Page 94 of Fool Moon First Aid

She dodges the question, her gaze searching for Ethan. “He ran into town,” I say, treading carefully around the truth to avoid unnecessary conflict.

Her response, a pout, is suggestive of the Natalie I remember, yet it signifies something more profound now. Our friendship, though platonic, is complicated due to her unwavering attraction to Ethan—a dynamic that has shaped our relationship for years.

From the moment of our arrival, Ethan and I connected on a level that only deepened with time, a bond that Tyler’s later arrival only strengthened. We understood, implicitly, that if we found our mate, we would share her—a practice born of necessity and unity within a pack.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Natalie’s stance shifts, her gaze briefly landing on the house before circling back to me. Time hasn’t been gentle with us. It changed Natalie from the selfless child I knew into someone who sees her value only in terms of mating—the very fate we once ran from together.

She isn’t the girl I fondly remember, and I’ve long since outgrown the role of the boy she once knew.

“Nat,” I mutter, my voice a blend of weariness and caution, “I can’t.”

“Because she’s in there,” she accuses, her gaze hardening as she sizes up the house, the façade of friendliness slipping away. “Since when does a girl come before our friendship?”

Her question stings. I love Natalie like a sister, but she refuses to see that, convinced our shared history entitles her to a future I can’t offer.

“She isn’t just some girl, Natalie. You know that,” I counter, the edge in my voice sharper than intended. “Why are you here?”

Her eyes flick back to me, carrying an unspoken understanding of the delicate balance we’re trying to maintain. Her mere presence here is a risk, her scent a potential catalyst for chaos, especially with a mate nearby. We’ve always been cautious, limiting our interactions with others to avoid this scenario, and the clothes Tyler gathered for Ava? I made sure they were reduced to ashes.

Natalie shifts, unease written in her movements.

“Natalie,” I rumble softly in warning.

“Fine,” she spits out, defiance tinged with resignation. “I just wanted to visit.”

I can’t help but call her bluff. “Bullshit. You know the rules. If Ethan sees you here, you’ll be shunned from the village.”

She grinds her teeth, and I know that any words she’s about to say will only piss me off. For some reason, I feel the need to shatter her illusions today.

“Erase that thought,” I say, my words firmer than intended. “You will never be our luna.”

Her reaction is swift as tears glimmer in her eyes. “You don’t have to be so harsh,” she replies, her voice breaking.

It’s a necessary, but bitter pill I force upon us both. “I do, Nat. It’s time you understand we don’t see you that way.”

The harshness of my words hangs heavily between us, then something shifts in her—a fiery determination that sets off alarms in my mind. Her next words are laced with malice. “You should reconsider your association with someone linked to the Puritas agenda.”

“I’m well aware of her connections,” I retort, tension rising.

Natalie steps closer, laying a hand on my bicep. Her touch is meant to provoke, but my reaction is not what she expects.

I take a step back, dislodging her touch and holding her gaze. “Natalie,” I warn, my steady voice betraying none of the turmoil she’s stirring. “As a doctor, I’ve sworn to protect, but I also know how to inflict pain. Don’t push me.”

Her defiance doesn’t waver, but she leans in, her next words a whisper meant only for me. “Christopher Thompson heads Puritas. Think about the implications of that for your mate.”

Her revelation leaves me frozen, a storm of thoughts whirling through my mind as the backdoor closes. I don’t pull away, her words representing a warning that challenges everything I thought I knew.

We suspected her dad was a part of the cult, but the head of it?

What cruel fate is this?

Natalie takes my silence for something else and grips my hand as though she’s giving me comfort.

I hastily release Natalie’s hand as if it scalds me. It’s a figurative burn, yet my heart pounds, fear coursing through me like wildfire.

Natalie, sensing an upper hand, smiles softly. “I just felt that it was something you should know.” She glances past me, hinting at our collective burden. “With the future of the clan on the shoulders of your pack, it’d be a shame to choose a luna who might be a…well, spy.”

“Who’s a spy?” Tyler arrives, his presence marked by Ava’s distinct lavender and wildflower scent, intertwined with the unmistakable aroma of sex.