Moon's Crescent (Book One)

Three: Acceptance Is Impossible

***Moon's P. O. V.***.

I get to my house and change back into a human. Breathing hard, I jog to my room and slam the door behind me. I realize I still have Crescent's Hot Wheel car in my hand, so I toss it away from me.

No, no, no. That child cannot be my mate. I won't accept it. They say that if you don't accept your mate you'll never be happy, but there must be some way I can exchange mine or something! I'm not a baby sitter, I do not want to have to be around a kid for the rest of my life! Come on, gods! What were you thinking? Crescent is not the other half of my soul.

"Yes, he is," my inner wolf says.

"No!" I growl, pulling at my hair.

I'm not just thinking of myself. That poor kid! He's too sweet and innocent to be marked and have to mate with me. I don't want him to be ruined.

***Crescent's P. O. V.***

There was something special about that guy. I don't know why he ran out so fast, but I wanted to be friends! He smelled very nice. I still don't get who he is. Some other kids bowed to him and stuff, and I don't understand why.

I don't have this being in a pack thing all figured out. I was raised by humans after Mommy left me because of my hands. When I became a teenager, I'd have crazy times when I'd turn into a wolf and act horrible to people without knowing what I was doing. Mrs. Cleinfield told me that's normal, but my human mommy and daddy couldn't handle it. They left me too. I wandered the woods, eating anything I could so I wouldn't die.

Even though it was bad for me sometimes, I'm not sad. It all worked out, and lots of friendly people are in my life now! I still have a lot to learn about being a werewolf, but I'm sure I can pick it up quickly!

I hope that man comes back. I felt so good when he was by me, and I don't even know why!

***Moon's P. O. V.***

I've been in bed for hours, just thinking about my situation with Crescent. I tried searching the Wolfnet for ways to get a different mate, but everything I read said that I should stick with him and see what happens. That's not what I want to hear right now! I was hoping there was some type of magic I could use to roll the dice again and get a different soulmate. No such luck for me.

I hear a light knock on my door.

"Moon? Are you okay? We brought you a cup of your favorite tea. . ." Uncle Clarke says.

"Go away," I reply, my voice shaking.

"Come on, Moon. We heard about what happened. Don't you want to talk about it?" Gregory asks.

I don't answer. Instead, I burrow into the many blankets on my bed. Do not cry, Moon. Don't be such a pussy. My door opens, and I feel the bed dip as my uncles sit down.

"Moon, seriously, what happened?" Greg asks with concern in his voice.

"I don't want to fucking talk about it," I growl, looking up with tears in my eyes.

"If you're crying then it's something serious. We're worried about you. We want to know what happened," Clarke says, and he looks so worried that I sigh and sit up, taking the mug of peppermint tea from Uncle Clarke.

"It's not a big deal. It got overwhelming, so I left. What's the problem?" I lie.

They look at each other, then Greg says, "You're not telling the truth, Moon. I wish you wouldn't be so difficult."

"Fine," my voice cracks. "I met a little boy named Crescent. If Miss Sinclair showed you the pictures she took then you probably saw him."

"Did he have blond hair and green eyes and something wrong with his hands?"

"Yeah. Anyways," I say, annoyed. "He's. . . well, he's. . . he's my mate."

"Really?! That's great, Moon! Oh my god, we have to tell everybody!" Uncle Gregory exclaims.

"No!" I bark. "I'm not accepting him as my soulmate."

"What the hell? Why not?!" they say in shock.

"He's like a child, guys. He's sixteen but he acts like he's ten. I don't want him, and I don't want to put him through the mating process."

"Well, that last part was surprisingly thoughtful. But of course you want him! Wasn't your wolf going nuts when you saw him?" Clarke asks.

"Yeah. . . But still. He's not my type, and I don't want to have to watch over him forever."

"There's never been a mistake in the history of wolves finding their soulmates, Moon. This person is who you're meant to be with," Greg states confidently.

"Let's just chock this up as the first mistake, then," I snap.

"Even if you think it's a mistake, maybe he doesn't. You're being selfish. You can't do that to someone. Crescent will die of a broken heart without his mate. Now that he saw you, you have to go see him again and at least talk," Gregory says.

"Just give me some time," I sip my tea. "I gotta let it process, then I'll go and tell him that it's all a misunderstanding."

"That's so cruel, Moon."

"In the long run, no, it's not. He won't experience nearly as much pain if he continues his life without me."

"We don't agree. You're the alpha, and it's your life, so in the end we can't tell you what to do. But we think it's dumb. Can't you at least try to be with him?" Clarke asks, sounding slightly pissed.

"No. Now go away. I don't need your counseling," I turn away and open my laptop.

They both sigh and put something on my nightstand before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind them. I turn to see what they left behind, and I realize that it's the boy's purple car. Could it be that Crescent really is my soulmate? No, it's just not possible. I can't accept it.

~~~~~~~~~~

When I come back to my office a few days later, it's been overrun by papers and letters left here by my secretary. I groan and plop down in my chair. This is going to take forever to go through.

I'm starting to separate all of the crap into neat piles when I see a pink envelope on the bottom of the entire unorganized stack. Pink? What the hell? If someone thinks that that's funny. . . I suck in a breath of air. In big, sloppy letters the name Crescent is written on the front. Why is this kid sending me stuff?

I pick up a letter opener that looks like a mini Lord of the Rings sword. Grasping it in my hand, I debate whether or not to just throw this stupid pink envelope away. I'm about to do it, but I realize I can't. Even the letter glows from being touched by him, and it carries his scent. I rip it open quickly. It reads: "Dear Mister Moon, thank you for playing cars with me. It was fun.", and there's a picture of two stick people holding little cars by an orange ramp.

He drew his stick person with messy blond hair and with his hands bent at a ninety degree angle to his arms, which is how they are in real life. The figure that's meant to be me has brown hair that's much more neat than his. It's obvious he took more time drawing me than him.

His handwriting looks like a kindergartener's, to be honest. Oh, wait, he probably had to write this with his feet, or with the pencil in his mouth. There is the chance he might have held it between his hands, too. Now I feel bad! I can't toss this in the trash knowing how much effort he put into it. For a normal kid something like this might be "cute", but for him it's actual hard work. He deserves for me to at least go there and talk to him about why we can't be together.