Page 47 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
Stifling my sigh, I said, “So I heard, anyway. It all happened three days after I left home.”
“How does it all work?” Maxwell asked, sounding genuinely intrigued. “If you don’t mind me asking. Kit mentioned to me a while back about how wolves can physically feel others in their pack?”
I found myself rubbing at my chest.
“It’s not really physical, not like…” I waved my hand vaguely. “We call them pack bonds. They’re like—god, this sounds so cheesy—invisible threads connecting everyone. You feel them here.” I tapped my sternum. “Not with your actual nerves or whatever. Deeper.”
Maxwell continued to pierce me with his gaze, and my skin prickled as if he was peeling it back, exposing me.
“When you’re in a pack, you always sort of know where everyone is. Not like, oh, Sarah’s at Tesco’s buying milk, but more like… if I closed my eyes, I could point in the direction of any pack member. The closer you are to someone—emotionally, I mean—the stronger you feel it. There’s no escape. Family bonds are the worst. I mean, strongest.”
I shifted in my seat, suddenly hyper-aware I was anxiously fidgeting. “It’s why Kit and I can always find each other, even when we’re pissed off at each other. Our tether somehow sort of survived, even after we both left the pack. He’s the only one I have left, though it’s not the same. We’re not exactly a pack.”
The car hit a pothole, and I used the jolt to swallow around my tightening throat.
“When a bond breaks—” My voice did that stupid cracking thing. Brilliant.Shut up, Rory, shut up. But I couldn’t. Kit never allowed me to talk to him about this, and so it was like the words demanded to pour out of me. “It feels like someone’s reached inside and snapped something that shouldn’t be able to break. It’s not just emotional pain. It’s…” I shrugged, trying for casual. “It’s like your body forgets how to exist properly. When someone dies, you’ve still got the pack to help you through it. But when you leave—when you cut yourself off from everyone at once—most wolves never experience that level of severance. Waking up gasping because your brain keeps searching for connections that aren’t there anymore.”
Maxwell was tooquiet. I risked a glance at him.
“Did that happen to you?” he asked softly.
I flashed him a smile that felt like baring my teeth. “Turns out ADHD makes pack bonds feel different too. Everything’s always too much or not enough. The elders called it ‘bond sensitivity’—just another way I was defective. When I left…” I swallowed hard. “Let’s just say there’s a reason lots of lone wolves don’t stay that way for long… one way or another. Your brain’s not wired to exist without those connections.”
I looked out the window, suddenly fascinated by the passing tower blocks. “Kit helped, once I made it to London. Having one bond still intact, even a… partial one, probably kept me from going completely mental. Those few months in Glasgow…” I trailed off, the name of the city sticking in my throat like a fishbone.
Glasgow.The concrete underpass that reeked of piss. The cardboard that never quite kept the damp out. The hollow ache in my stomach that became so familiar I stopped noticing it. The looks from passers-by—pity from some, disgust from most.
I’d arrived with just enough money for a week in a hostel. After that ran out, I’d tried other packs. Three of them. As soon as I’d dropped the Thorne surname, their expressions had changed. Turns out my family were known as righteous, posh snobs who thought they were better than the rest, especially city wolves.
Then there were the two blokes with knives who’d cornered me behind a supermarket, demanding my backpack. I’d had nothing worth taking except my ID and a photo of my mum from before everything went wrong. The wolf inside me had howled to be released, claws itching beneath my skin. But I’d swallowed it down, handed over my backpack with shaking hands, and walked away with nothing but the clothes I wore.
The weight of Maxwell’s stare prickled across my skin. He’d definitely listened in. I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“Why didn’t you just come to London straight away, if Kit was there?” Maxwell asked softly.
“We weren’t actually talking at that point.” I squirmed in my seat. “It’s a long story. But eventually a wolf from another Highland pack spotted me, managed to get Kit’s number, and told him what was going on.” I remembered the black eye I’d been sporting, courtesy of a much larger homeless man who wanted my sleeping spot. “The next day, he just appeared on the street, right in the underpass where I was camping.”
The emotions tied to the memory came flooding back. Shock, horror,relief.
“I told him to fuck off, then I burst into tears like a baby.”
“And he took you back to London?”
“Yeah. Three days later, I was Killigrew Street’s newest employee.” I attempted a laugh that came out more like a strangled cough. “Biggest regret of Seb’s five-hundred-year life, I’m sure, hiring me.”
A sharp squeak pierced the air, followed by frantic scratching against my coat.Shit. I’d been so caught up in our conversation that I’d completely forgotten about Freddy.
“What was that?” Maxwell frowned, glancing over at me.
“Nothing! Just my stomach—”
Before I could finish, Freddy erupted from my pocket like a furry grey missile, launching himself onto the dashboard. His matted fur stood on end, yellow eyes glowing with hunger as he bared his yellowed teeth at Maxwell.
Maxwell screamed—not a manly shout or dignified yelp—but a full-on, spectacular high-pitched banshee wail that probably shattered several nearby windows. The car veered sharply left, tyres screeching as we hurtled toward a lamppost.
My body moved before my brain caught up. I lunged across the center console, one hand grabbing the wheel, the other shoving Maxwell’s frozen arm. The car straightened with inches to spare, tyres bumping against the kerb before settling back onto the road.
Maxwell’s chest heaved with rapid breaths, eyes wide behind his glasses as he stared at Freddy, who was now innocently sniffing the air vents.
