Moonstruck

𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 | Whispers in the Dark

"Don't go against the natural order of things."

Kiera had never wanted to punch Seth more than she did at that moment. Even more than shortly after the first time they met, at age nine, when Seth had ripped a photograph of her family—the only thing she had left from her old life—in half. Even more than shortly after they first became friends, at age thirteen, when he had let his mother tell everyone how he was better at fighting than her despite the fact that she clearly overpowered him every time they practiced sparring.

Even more than when, almost a year ago, Kiera had turned up on Seth's doorstep in the middle of the night. She had been caught in a corner of the library exchanging stolen kisses with a pretty girl—a girl whose name Kiera didn't even remember anymore—who made Kiera's heart flutter every time she smiled with that soft, lollipop-sweet mouth of hers. Zahra had stared at both of them for a long moment, and then walked away without a word. By the time Kiera returned home, all of her belongings were in a giant black garbage bag sitting directly outside their front door. She never saw the girl again.

Seth, who had been sitting cross-legged on the floor beside his bed and polishing his ivory knife throughout Kiera's recount of it all, looked up with an unimpressed quirk of his brow. "So spend the next few days here, and then go back and apologize. Tell her it meant nothing, that you were just having some fun. That you promise to settle down with a nice and proper mate—a male one—when the time comes."

Kiera sat down on his bed and stifled a groan. She had to remind herself that he was her best friend, that he was only trying to look out for her. But she still wanted to take his knife and shove it up his ass. "That's the thing. It did mean something. I really did like her—I still do."

"It doesn't matter what it actually meant. You want to be Alpha, so you have to be the Alpha they want. That's the price of power."

"If that's the case," Kiera said, "then I don't want it. I don't want to be an Alpha who hides from who she really is, who's afraid of her true form."

Seth scoffed. "You and I both know that's not how it works."

"Then you can take it for yourself! Go be Alpha and get a female mate—make your parents proud. Suppress your own feelings to your heart's content!"

Shrugging, Seth put his knife down, stood up, and stretched. "If you would throw it all away just for a short-lived bout of puppy love, then perhaps I should."

Kiera glared at him. She felt an odd lump in her throat and wondered if she was going to start crying. It would be the first time she had cried in front of someone else since—well, she couldn't remember. All she knew was that there was something red-hot inside her, clawing to be let out, swelling and swelling until—

And then she laughed. She laughed, and laughed, and laughed. She laughed until she had tears in her eyes, until Seth was staring at her with a mixture of disgust and admiration— "What's gotten into you? Has your sentimentality finally driven you crazy?" —until she flopped onto her back and could laugh no longer.

Finally, Kiera's smile faded. She stared up at the plain white ceiling, counted the stripes painted upon its blank canvas surface by the moonbeams streaming in between the window slats. She raised her arm towards the ceiling—fancied herself reaching for the stars—and watched her hand become a part of the makeshift night sky.

"It hurts, Seth," she said. "It hurts so much."

There was a slight rustle as Seth lay down beside her on the bed. He said nothing. Together, they looked up and gazed at the masterpiece of the night—a mural of moonlight and moonstruck madness.