Lunarcrossed

“I still can’t believe Uncle Alder let you come. I’ll bet your balls haven’t even dropped yet,” my cousin River ends with a laugh. “You’re just jealous because Willow stole yours cuz,” I counter, “everyone knows she’s the dominant in your relationship. And you’re just the little bitch.” River throws back his head and laughs in a mocking way. Though I don’t hear him deny the words I’ve spoken about his mate back home in Shadow Ridge. In the parking lot of a big rig friendly gas station, twenty miles outside of Camden, Indiana, he leans against the open truck door lazily. He’s the lightest of my cousins, his human skin a shade that refuses to darken much no matter how long he spends in the sun, long fire red hair, and freckled skin from his head to his toes. He’s leaner too, and shares no features with the other Ironclaw’s, so much it’s a long running family joke that he got his name from being found by the river as a cub, abandoned for being the runt of his own pack. This grimy tru

We rent a couple rooms out in a motel on the outskirts of Camden to clean up and catch a few hours of shut eye before tonight’s hunt. We have to do most of our investigations during nightfall, as several large wolves stalking the walking trails in broad daylight would be sure to draw too much unwanted attention. Wolves are nocturnal creatures for one thing, and our pack members are much bigger than your garden variety wolf, so eight of us spotted in a small, rural town while the sun is still up, would likely cause a panic. Night not only gives us the most freedom to roam the crime scene and track the creature responsible for the local dead man, but it also gives us a chance to blend into the forest and shadows to escape unwanted eyes and recorded videos from gob smacked bystanders. Not to mention, the town of Camden is mostly farmlands, with large open spaces, and fewer places to hide in the sun. The place where the hiker was drug from the trail, is like the only wooded area in the

By the time the moon and stars come out to greet us, we are amped and restless, ready to join the hunt. Except for Clay, who smells of a human female, and smiles serenely from ear to ear. He’s burned off the tension of the upcoming hunt in the best ways he knows how. Wolfe mouths off about not getting lucky and having to fulfill the grunt work orders from the beta in command. Clay rubs it in every chance he gets as we load the gear and prepare to depart for the nature trails across town. He gloats by giving details of the fuck he just gifted a human girl, as if it was the best ride of her life. I roll my eyes and River laughs and calls him out. River claims to be the Alpha in that regard when it comes to satisfying a female in all ways. But that is certainly up for debate. Growing up with the pack, with shedding our clothes and human skins to merge with our inner wolf, is a way of life. We shift back into the state of birth, naked and unbothered by it. Shame over nudity and modesty

Thanks to their driver’s licenses, we identify the dead parents as Jack Cross aged thirty-seven, and his wife Ava, thirty-four. A paper trail of old leases also tells us the family moved to Camden four months ago and has moved many times over the past several years. The lockbox contains the girl’s birth certificates, placing the oldest Sloane at eleven and Bale’s child Celeste, at only four. We try to put the pieces together about how Bale fathered a cub with the human woman who was already married and had a six-year-old daughter by the time the little wolf was conceived. With the way he acted around Star, I have to wonder if it was consensual.We reach out to Grady to help us get those answers we seek. But since the bodies haven’t been officially called in yet, his hands are tied before he can do some digging for us without raising too many suspicions. Our inside detective makes sure an anonymous tip is called in about the dead parents after we leave the farm at 1722 Cherry Tree Lane

Nothing compares to the feel of the wind coursing through my fur beneath the light of the moon, through the trees, the naked ground beneath my paws, with a pack of my brothers running alongside. The freedom, the simplicity of it, is the closest my kind will ever get to Heaven on Earth. I do not let these feelings override our mission though, do not allow myself to get lost in the euphoric emotions the merge brings, of the beauty of each vine, the masterpiece of every flower, the sounds of the birds and other creatures dancing among the trees, the rich smells of the moon’s creations, because the moon must be avenged, and our own cub returned to the pack. Violations of the worst kind have been committed against the moon’s children, both those that walk on two legs or many, and blood is the price to be paid from the transgressor. The moon demands blood, and as moon favored and the strongest among its creations, we will make sure that debt is paid in full.Our strong legs carry us through