Page 81 of Fool Moon First Aid

I skid around a corner, finding Bast by the entrance, looking calm as he leans against the front door. No fear emanates from him, just a quiet resolve as he swings the door open. Whether for me or not, I seize the opportunity, bolting out the door toward the forest, just as a shot pierces the air.

Pain explodes across my back, a sharp, biting sensation, but it doesn’t slow me. On four paws—paws?—I surge forward, the realization of my transformation tumbling through my mind in a chaotic whirl.

Don’t think about it, just run, Ava. Run.

The forest looms ahead, offering a dark, welcoming embrace. I hurl myself into its depths, dodging trees and underbrush. Shots and shouts fade into a distant buzz. Freedom is the only thing that matters now, the only thing that drives me.

A lone howl splits the silence, sending shivers down my spine. Friend or foe? At this point, anything is better than what I’m fleeing from. Drawn by the call, I race toward it, the howl echoing around me like a siren’s song, promising refuge or perhaps a new danger.

Then, I sense him. It’s a subtle brush against my consciousness, a whisper of awareness that caresses my fur with promises of safety, compassion, and support. The wild panic that’s fueled my flight ebbs, replaced by a curious calm as I skid to a halt in a moonlit clearing.

The moon herself seems to lean closer, her light bathing the clearing in a silver glow, as if she is eager to watch my story unfold. Panting, I struggle to catch my breath, the sensations so vividly new yet not unpleasant.

A large, black wolf approaches, his presence commanding yet gentle. His whine is soft, like a ghostly caress against my heightened senses, and his eyes—so human and familiar—lock onto mine with an intensity that stirs something deep within me.

In the light of the moon, he shifts. Ethan stands before me, naked and unashamed, his posture one of deference. I hadn’t realized I was growling until that moment, the sound dying in my throat as he speaks my name, a whisper carried on the night breeze.

“Ava,” he says, his voice a soothing balm to the chaos within me. “Baby, I need you to shift back.”

I resist, fear of capture twining with the newfound freedom of my form. A whimper escapes me, the sound foreign yet deeply mine.

“It’s all right. I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” Ethan assures me, his gaze reaching into the very core of my being. “Never again. You’re safe with me, with us.”

His words, laden with unspoken promises, wrap around me, giving me a cocoon of safety and belonging.

Perhaps it’s my imagination, or maybe it’s the stories I weave around his words that finally coax my spirit to calm. Maybe I’m not meant to fully understand.

In the next moment, I take a deep breath, the air cool and refreshing in my human lungs.

“There you are,” Ethan murmurs, catching me as I stumble into his arms, our nakedness a frivolous concern compared to the bond forming between us. “I have you. I promise.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” I repeat, my voice breaking with each apology, my sobs providing a release of the fear and pain.

It’s only later, in the quiet aftermath, that I realize the full extent of my transformation…not just the physical healing, but the emotional and spiritual renewal it’s begun.

Ethan

Fucking beautiful.

Words fail to capture the essence of the woman before me. Here, in this moonlit clearing, I’d bind our fates together a thousand times over with the moon as our witness and not harbor a single regret. The magic of the night wraps around us, making this moment feel sacred. The air is charged with ethereal magic, making every leaf and shadow thrum with unseen power.

She is transformed yet unaware of her new form. For the first time, she’s a wolf—magnificent, powerful, and utterly captivating. Her fur is a rich tapestry of browns, dappled with darker spots that mimic freckles, but it’s her eyes—deep and soulful—that pin me in place. My Ava’s eyes. They assess me, weighing and measuring, caught between her newfound animal instincts and the woman I know.

The mate I love.

I approach her with a caution that belies my racing heart, each step measured and deliberate. Lowering my head in a gesture of submission, I expose my throat to her—a silent declaration of my trust. She could tear me apart and end my existence with one swift movement, and I’d welcome it if it meant being this close to her spirit.

Her fur shimmers under the moonlight—a breathtaking sight that sends a visceral shiver through me. I can almost feel her confusion, her awe at her own transformation. It’s a critical moment, and I shift back to my human form, the night air caressing my bare skin.

Whispers escape me, a blend of encouragement and raw hope as I try to coax her back. The first shift is a precarious journey, one fraught with danger, especially when fueled by such strong emotions.

When she shifts, the sound of her sob tearing through the silent forest, I catch her, pulling her into the safety of my arms. Her skin feels warm against mine, a stark contrast to the cool night air. She curls into me, her body a perfect fit against my own, naked and miraculously healed.

Her ankle, previously broken and swollen, now shows no sign of injury, and her wounds have vanished as if they were never there, but the blood smeared across her face tightens my chest, and a violent surge of protectiveness overwhelms me. Imagining what could have happened, what her father might have done, ignites a fierce promise within me—Elijah Castellon will face hell itself if he laid a hand on her.

I suspect he did. He won’t survive the week.

Brody’s concern filters through our bond, like a silent vibration of worry that mirrors my own. He and Tyler hover at the edge of the clearing, their presence a constant pressure at the back of my mind. I feel their need to see Ava and confirm her safety as acutely as if it were my own. I want to hoard this moment and keep her all to myself, but I relent, understanding their need.

---