ChrisI hung my head at the bar and nursed my drink, feeling like a complete and utter fool. The hour had grown late and the ball around me had erupted into an all-out party, but I couldn’t seem to enjoy myself.How could I have even suggested such an absurd idea to Ava? She was right—it would have
Ava“—never happen,” the woman's hushed voice echoed down the hallway. “The Acting Luna doesn’t stand a chance with Alpha Chris. She’s too old for him anyway…”I felt my heart leap into my throat as I pressed myself against the corner. The voices down the hall, oblivious to my pain, continued.“Yes,
In my drunken, emotionally vulnerable state, I didn’t immediately pull away. Some distant part of me craved the comfort of being held, of being wanted. But just as Patrick’s lips brushed against mine, the image of Chris’s face flashed through my mind—and with it, a painful ache that reminded me how
AvaIt was just after two in the morning when the nurse came in to gently inform us that visiting hours were over. Chris and I had been keeping a silent vigil by Degas’s bedside for hours, neither of us willing to leave the frail Elder’s side—but neither of us able to speak to each other, either.“I
“Luna Ava,” she said, dipping her head politely. “It’s good to see you.”“Acting Lu—Nevermind.” I crossed the room, unable to stop myself from pulling the shorter woman into a hug. “I’m so sorry about your friend,” I murmured into her hair. “I know you two were close.”The girl stiffened momentarily
AvaI nearly dropped the coffee cups I was holding when I saw it. There, sitting up in the middle of the hospital bed, was Degas—his eyes open and alert as he talked animatedly with Chris.“Degas,” I breathed as I ripped the curtain open. “You’re awake!”The Elder turned to me with a weary smile. “I
AvaI awoke to the sensation of the bright sun filtering in through the window and a distinct ache in my head. For a moment I just laid there, squinting my eyes against the brightness—and then the events of the night before hit me like a freight train.The ball. The bachelorettes. Chris’s proposal.
“Me, too,” I said with a grin.Soon enough, the picnic was laid out beneath a large oak tree—homemade loaves of bread, wedges of sharp cheddar cheese, glistening berries spilling out of a large ceramic bowl, a bottle of fruit wine, and even an array of cold cut meats that made my mouth water just lo