Page 50 of Accidentally Wedded to a Werewolf (Claw Haven #1)

The moon was full.

Oliver could feel it pulling at his bones.

Wanting him to change. And yet every time he tried, his wolf retreated.

It still didn’t trust him after what he’d almost let happen to his family back in Arizona.

It was closer than it had been in a year, but that didn’t stop it from lingering just out of reach.

He groaned, eyes fluttering open. He was lying on his back in the moss, a sleeping bag draped haphazardly over him.

It was crumpled from him constantly pulling it on, then shoving it back off as he alternated between blazing hot and icy cold.

There was a water bottle balanced on a stump next to him, which got refilled every hour by his helpful, deeply annoying family.

Sabine, Leo, Grandmother and Uncle Roy were taking up the night watch, no matter how many times Oliver insisted he was fine and they should go back to the inn.

“So much for being made the alpha tonight,” Oliver gritted as he shivered on the ground.

Sabine peered down at him, one hand stroking Leo’s hair absently. “Shouldn’t he be in bed?”

“No,” Grandmother replied from her place on the stump, right next to the water bottle. “He needs to get in touch with his wolf. Being in the forest will help.”

“I don’t know,” Sabine said in that dubious tone that made Oliver remember she’d grown up in a human family. “He looks pretty sick. This seems like a blankets-and-cocoa situation.”

Grandmother shook her head. “Embracing the wolf will help him cure the bond sickness faster.”

Oliver shuddered as another icy spasm racked his body. He pulled the sleeping bag tighter over him. Werewolves ran hot. Before the bond, he’d never felt cold so deeply in his life. But he’d never felt so warm either. Lit up from the inside out. He’d probably never feel it again.

A shaft of moonlight fell through the trees and onto his face. The wolf inside him rumbled, trying to rise to the surface. But the moment Oliver tried to reach back, it shrunk away. He could feel its hot breath. It was so close.

“It doesn’t trust me,” he gritted. “I can feel it, goddamnit—it’s right there. Little bastard.”

“Don’t call your wolf a bastard,” Grandmother said. She offered him the water bottle. He knocked it away, striking out harder than he’d meant to.

Uncle Roy growled, fur sprouting along his neck. “This is a waste of time. Just let him sweat it out, and we can get to running.”

“We’re not gonna leave him here while we run,” Leo said, small face twisting in disgust at the concept. “Not ’til later, anyway. It’s barely dark!”

“It’s the full moon. If he’s going to reclaim his wolf, it will be tonight.” Grandmother placed the water bottle back beside her on the stump and looked over at Uncle Roy. “Just because your wolf didn’t return for years doesn’t mean your nephew should suffer that same fate.”

Uncle Roy growled again, and more fur prickled up his arms. If he ever had a problem summoning his wolf, it was long gone now. If anything, he was having trouble keeping his wolf contained.

Leo squirmed out of his mother’s arms and got on the ground next to Oliver, taking a deep breath to scream in his ear, “Go toward the wolf, Uncle Ollie!”

“I’m trying,” Oliver snapped. He looked up at Sabine pleadingly. “Can we get the kids out of here at least?”

The crack of twigs made him look over. It was Ben, striding through the trees with a wrapped bag of sweet, oily food in one hand and a hedgehog plushie tucked under his arm.

“You heard him,” Ben told Leo, nudging him gently with his shoe. “Move it.”

Leo pouted but scrambled up. He did a half-hearted jump to try to reach the bag of food, but Ben held it out of reach before relenting and breaking off a piece. Leo took it and scurried into the trees, waving goodbye to his mom as he went.

“Hey bro,” Ben said, sitting down on the space Grandmother had cleared for him on the stump. “How’s it going?”

“A-awesome,” Oliver replied, teeth chattering. He nodded at the oily bag dusted with sugar. “What’s that?”

“Churro,” Ben said, mouth full. He held up the plushie next, dangling it in Oliver’s face. “Hedgehog. Beth’s handing them out. Want me to grab you one?”

Oliver batted it away. “No. Is the fair still going?”

“Uh-huh.” Ben bent down, wedging the plushie under the blankets with him. “There we go. Have a little buddy.”

Oliver thought about throwing the plushie in his face. But Grandmother was right there. Also, he couldn’t be bothered lifting his arms.

Ben opened the water bottle meant for Oliver and took a sip. “We should get Luna to come back.”

“Go to hell,” Oliver croaked.

Ben ignored him and looked over at Grandmother. “It helps when they stick around after, right?”

“She’s busy,” Sabine said gently, her face so full of sympathy Oliver had to avert his eyes. Everybody had been handling him with kid gloves since Luna left. He’d been getting better at not snapping at them, but it was more difficult when he was weak and shivering on the forest floor.

Ben grunted into the water bottle. “I don’t know. I kind of expected her to show up anyway. She could still make the wedding.”

Sabine’s eyes went wide, gaze darting pointedly to Oliver.

He almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

He’d been counting down the days with increasing dread.

He knew it was the day before the wedding.

It had been impossible to think about anything else.

He thought about it while he was brushing his teeth, while he was doing paperwork, while he was out for a run or changing guests’ beds—Luna in another man’s arms, giggling at his jokes, partying up a storm.

She was never going to stay. They both knew that.

So why did Oliver feel like he’d lost something?

Something flared deep in his chest. An echo, he told himself as the wolf’s ears perked up inside him.

“What?” Ben asked as Sabine stared. “He knows. Hey Ollie, your ex-bondmate is getting married tomorrow.”

“Ben!” Sabine whispered.

Uncle Roy grunted. “No, ’s good. He needs to get over it.”

“He needs to stop having a fever,” Ben corrected. “She could drop by before her honeymoon. Wait, would that make things better or worse? Is it better to go cold turkey?”

“Everybody shut up about Luna!” Oliver shouted.

The forest went silent. Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t the ghost of warmth in his chest. He’d never feel it again.

“Oliver,” Grandmother said.

“Nope,” he snapped. He struggled to a sitting position, pushing the sleeping bag and the hedgehog plushie off him.

The hot flashes were back, chasing out the chill.

They were even more powerful than usual, the heat curling through his chest in a way that was so similar to the bond that Oliver ached.

He gritted his teeth. “Seriously, if one more of you say—”

“Oliver,” Grandmother said, voice so tense and urgent that he stopped.

She was staring out into the trees, face slack with shock.

Oliver froze as a familiar scent hit him: jasmine and sage.

Heat pulsed through Oliver’s chest, a faint echo that died as soon as it arrived.

He turned.

Luna stood behind him, her blond hair frizzing around her shoulders. She wore a puffer jacket and smelled like sweat and airports, but mostly, she smelled like the flowers he’d come to associate with her.

Another echo of warmth pulsed through his chest before dying. The bond was gone. But Luna was here. She was here, staring at him with the smallest smile on her pink lips. She looked uncertain. Like she wasn’t sure if he wanted her there.

“Luna,” Oliver breathed.

Luna’s smile grew. “Hi.”

A growl ripped through the forest, making everyone jolt. Uncle Roy was curled over, shaking hard. His teeth formed into huge fangs, fur rushing out to cover every inch of his face except the old burn scar. That stayed bare and gnarled, every single time.

“Sh-she can’t,” he choked, slurring through his half--transformed mouth. “I won’t—won’t let—”

“Hey, whoa,” Ben said, surging up with his hands raised peacefully. “Cool down, Uncle. Nobody wants to hurt us.”

Uncle Roy shook his head. It twitched, ears shooting up toward his scalp, bones shifting under his skin. He let loose another growl and fell to his hands and knees, which were growing longer and hairier.

“He’s losing control,” Sabine warned. She started growing fangs, fur sprouting over her cheeks. Ben started shifting with her, but Oliver barely noticed. Everything in him screamed to get between Luna and the threat.

He shoved himself up on shaky arms. “Uncle, don’t.”

“Roy,” Grandmother said, sharper than Oliver had ever heard it. A tail sprouted from underneath her skirt. “Stand down.”

Uncle Roy arched, his fingers turning into paws. The transformation was complete. His head snapped up, eyes flashing on Luna. There was no human left in them. Just wolf. Primal and snarling and scared, ready to pounce.

“Uncle,” Oliver yelled. “Don’t!”

Uncle Roy leaped.

Oliver surged up. The only sound that existed was Luna’s yelp.

There was no slow change, like with Ben and Sabine, and even Grandmother, stumbling after them on half-formed paws.

The wolf burst out of Oliver as if it had never left, the world coming alive around him in a way it hadn’t in over a year.

Oliver didn’t see anything but Luna, who had her feet planted even as she trembled.

He raced forward, barreling into Uncle Roy and shoving him into a tree. Uncle Roy snarled and snapped, but Oliver was already climbing off him. He darted to Luna and curled around her, baring his teeth.

“Safe,” he rumbled, slurring around his fangs. “Don’t hurt pack. Safe. Mine.”

Uncle Roy snarled. But Ben and Sabine were there, and Grandmother, who limped up to fix him with a stare that made Oliver’s tail twitch.

Uncle Roy’s ears flattened against his head. He gave another weak growl, but Grandmother nipped his flattened ear, and the growl turned into a whine.

Luna’s breath hitched. She’d never seen him like this, Oliver remembered as he twisted to look at her.

For a second, Luna looked uncertain. Then her face split into a wondrous smile.

“Hi,” she whispered. Her hand sank into Oliver’s fur, right at the back of his neck.

Oliver shuddered as the rightness of it filled him up. His wolf was back, Luna was back—he felt complete. Like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.

Luna yanked her hand back. “Oh no, sorry!”

“No,” Oliver replied, still slurring through a mouth not made for speech. “’S good.”

He nosed at her wrist, licking the warm skin. Then he paused. There was no wedding ring on her finger. Not even an engagement ring.

He couldn’t think properly like this. He closed his eyes and reached down inside him, pulling the human back. When he opened his eyes, he was looking down at Luna, his clothes in tatters.

Oliver swallowed. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I do.” Luna hesitated. Then she laid a hand over his chest, skin exposed by his ripped shirt. “Here. With you.”

Behind them, his family was nudging Uncle Roy farther into the woods. Uncle Roy let out an irritated yip but let it happen.

“How long?” Oliver asked.

“Um,” Luna said, cheeks flushed. “As long as you let me?”

A howl echoed through the trees, loud and joyous. Another one joined it. All over town, the pack would know. The aunts would head back, kids in tow. Time to run.

Luna laughed, startled. “Do you want to go with them? It’s been a while.”

She started to drop her hand. He caught it, pressing it back to his chest. Her hand was cool, but it was warming up fast.

“Later,” he said. “I need to get changed. There’s a fair in town. Want to come with me?”

Luna grinned. “Love to.”