Noah's POV
In less than an hour, the full moon will rise over Lykandor. The pack will shift and run, drink and howl under the goddess's silver light. They'll dance and hunt and laugh and forget—just for a little while—that the world is swallowing us whole.
And I'll be here.
Sitting on my couch.
Getting a chip drilled into my wrist by my boyfriend.
The cottage is quiet. Too quiet. Without Oliver's tiny footfalls or his constant narration of every toy, every sound and breath—it feels like a tomb. I left him with Ma, promised him I'd be back before bedtime. I didn't want him here for this. Not because it's violent or bloody or dangerous. It just felt… wrong.
I could still be at the Big House right now.
'You're an amazing father.'
Sneaking pieces of lamb out of the stew pot. Laughing with Astrid. Sipping mulled grape wine with spices while Rowan plays tag with Lila and Oliver.
'The Melee? Will you be there?'
But, nope. I'm here.
'Yes, love. Just me.'
