His Male Luna

LIAM****“You’re pathetic.” Nyratha, my wolf’s voice, sliced through my skull. “You should’ve broken his nose at least.”The rain drummed down the roof of the bus stop, the pattering almost drowning her voice.I wished it did.I wished it drowned everything.My eyes remained on the phone screen, on the text I had sent my elder brother thirty minutes ago.Me: Can you come pick me up?The message sat there read, yet no response.“At least slash his tires.” With a snort, she continued. “Anything would have been better than standing there like a drenched puppy while he dumped you.”“Will you shut up?” I yelled, voice tearing through heavy downpour, rough and aching.My ex’s voice pulsed through my skull. ‘You know I was never into men. Your female wolf got me all confused. Did you expect me to bring a man home to be my Luna?’“This is all your fucking fault,” I snapped at my wolf. “If you were a male wolf…” I paused, my cold breath shuddering. “I’d have been mated to a woman.”My chest

LIAM****Not today.The plea echoed through my skull, almost drowning the thuds of the boots hammering the concrete behind me.As they drew closer, I urged Nyratha to grant me more speed.Every ounce of strength she had poured into my legs, but it wasn’t enough.Nyratha was never enough.Not by werewolf standards. Even as a child, she’d never run as fast as the others. I remembered the races—children laughing as they shifted halfway, sprinting across the park grounds while I stumbled after them. Or was it when I tumbled down a flight of stairs at seven, my knees peeling. My mother had barely spared a glance. “Get up, Liam. It heals in a second. You have a wolf.”Second became hours, and hours turned into days. By then everyone had stopped pretending nothing was wrong. Had stopped hiding their disappointment.A month later, I was sent away. Far from the pack. Far from wolves. Far from a place I called home.My grandfather was oddly born without a wolf, so he never questioned it. So

FREDRIN~~~~The bloody shirt hadn’t moved. It lay exactly where I'd left it, on the coffee table at the center of the room. The blood had dried into a rusted copper stain.I’d gone out, forced myself through the activities of today, sat through conversations that floated above me, and now I was back, alone, in my room, sitting on the single sofa, glowering at the shirt.“You’re still not going to tell me whose blood that is?”My tight voice echoed in the silence that buried the room.A snicker rolled through my head. Low at first, then it grew louder and louder until it became a laughter so dark it crawled beneath my skin.“Did you kill the wolf?” The word scraped out of my throat.‘Does it matter?’ Gedon, my wolf, said, bored.Tightness seized my chest.“Do you know what’s at stake?” I gritted, “If he belongs to a pack.” I gulped. “You’re going to start a war.’Gedon yawned. ‘More blood for me then.’My phone vibrated, pulling me out of the conversation.Mother.My stomach dipped,