Page 138 of Untamed

"Well, shit," Conner Grim looks down at the front of his jeans. "Let's go before I give myself carpal tunnel." Sarj still looks shell-shocked as they leave while Conner fucking winks at me again. "Lucky fucking bastard," he mutters, shaking his head. Inauspicious introduction. I’ll have to see if we can strengthen our alliance with ClearHowl. Later.

The knock on the door interrupts me.

"Little Luna? Your Mama wants to speak to you," Jax sounds resigned.

"We're busy," I call back.

There's a pause. "Get downstairs and make sure she doesn't scent of anything, In. I can smell it through the damn door."

Willa giggles as I pick her up and carry her back to the shower.

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Willa

Mactiir carries me to the soft chair downstairs and settles me down. "What is this called, again?" I whisper to him.

"The couch or sofa, kitten," he murmurs back, giving me a soft kiss on the lips before settling next to me.

Young Alpha winks at me from across the room. "Hey, cutie. Looking good."

"I will rip out your tongue and gouge out your eyes," Mactiir tells him mildly.

"Naw, the females love my green eyes. And my tongue... whew!" He grins. "What do you think, Willa?"

Mactiir bristles, the low growl rumbling from his chest, but I think it's a good question.

"Your tongue is noisy, and your eyes... like water-weeds, I suppose," I tell him. Mactiir snickers until I say, "Mactiir has eyes the color of walnut poison." I do like walnut pie...

Warm, blunt fingers tickle my sides. "Stop it!" I giggle helplessly. Mactiir doesn't until I squirm into Pup's lap in my attempt to escape. Growling, Mactiir pulls me back to his side.

"My eyes?" Pup asks quietly. He braces himself. My poor Pup.

I look into his ink-dark eyes. The Light Moon, that bitch, has given this male a sore deal.

"Eyes of the Dark goddess," I tell him quietly. I'm not sure how else to explain it, the blindness of the Moon.

"Ah. What goddess is that?" Old Alpha asks cautiously as he settles down at a long table overflowing with food. My nose twitches, I'm hungry, but Purple and Coffee are sitting at the table, too. And their old, watery eyes are fixed on me.

I feel my Ogre stare at Old Alpha menacingly. Deep inside my Mactiir, he doesn't like the question. I wonder why?

"The Dark Moon?" I frown at him. "Don't they teach pack wolves anything?" I mumble to myself.

"Kitten," Mactiir says slowly, gathering me up into his arms so that I am cuddled on his lap, "the Dark is... not good."

Darkness has its color, potent sable. There is nothing terrible about the silky black of the Dark. It is nothing like the empty absence of light that surrounds the moon. That fickle, hollow moon.

Before I can tell him the truth, Young Alpha speaks.

"Don't witches follow the Dark Goddess?" he eyes me suspiciously.

"What is a witch?" I ask him. I don’t remember ever seeing that word in our book.

He peers at me for a moment before relaxing, "nevermind. It's considered bad luck for anything to happen when there isn't a moon in the sky. Births, deaths, matings, all of it."

Pack wolves. "Why do you think this?" I ask him, genuinely confused.Confused; addled, befuddled, bewildered.

"Because..." Young Alpha's voice trails off. He looks at Old Alpha for help.

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