All Chapters of Loner for Luna: Chapter 51 - Chapter 57

AndrewHere I was – pacing my damn room like a kid with ADHD. First, I threw myself on the bed, arms spread wide, staring up at the ceiling as if the cracks and shadows could spell out some divine answer for me. Nothing, just silence and my own heartbeat pounding like a war drum.Then I was up again, restless legs carrying me in circles around the room. One lap, two laps – hell, I could’ve worn a groove into the floorboards. I stalked over to the window, shoved it open, and leaned out like the trees of the forest were about to part their branches and whisper advice into my ear. But nope, just rustling leaves and the faint scent of pine.Next thing I knew, I was standing dead center in my room, hands on my hips, glaring at the wall that separated me from her. As if I could burn holes through the plaster, reach into her space, and somehow pry open her skull just to get one single thought out of her head. Goddess, I wanted to know what she was thinking. Was she restless like me? Did she

PrueHe stares at me with his jaw tight clearly contemplaiting what to tell me and what to keep. Perhaps he said more than he wanted me to know. At least I would never confess to him something like this."But now I’m sitting here thinking, silly me, maybe I should’ve just done it years ago – because my mate apparently has the patience of a toddler on a sugar high." His tone is dry, clipped, a little mocking. But underneath it, I catch something else. Regret? Maybe. Not my problem though. Se.x is fun. Passion is human. (Or, well, wolf.) I get the whole “wait for your true love” thing – but in my case? It wasn’t some drunk mistake. It was real – warm and tender. I mean at least once. Somehwere in the background I've registered that he has called me "my mate" for the first time ever, but I don't have time to pay too much attention to it now."But... everyone at school says you're a fuc.kboy," I mutter, still trying to recalibrate everything I thought I knew about him.He scoffs, like tha

PrueThe dust motes in Tom's study danced like frantic, tiny embers in the amber slanting of the afternoon sun, a stark contrast to the hollow, restless ache that lived under my skin. Being a lone wolf meant I was perpetually vibrating at a frequency of flight, a frantic heartbeat away from another anonymous town, another set of locked doors, another year of playing the invisible ghost. I felt the familiar weight of my nomadic soul pressing against my ribs, but for this fleeting, quiet moment, I allowed myself to anchor into the stillness of his room."So, let's get to the most interesting part – what did you read during the last week?" I looked at Tom with soft smile."This one!" Tom picks up a gray book with a red-orange bird at the center of it and passes it over to me. I read the title: Man’s Search for Meaning, a classic tribute to hope from the Holocaust. The Holocaust?"Hmm, interesting choice for the book," I say as I twirl the other side of the book and scan over the comment.

AndrewThe absolute hardest part of being a teenage wolf is the waking – the jarring, immediate realization that my body has betrayed me before I’ve even managed to open my eyes. I wake up, and my di.ck is hard as wood, skin feels like it’s vibrating, my pulse a frantic, thrumming beat in my ears, and all I can think is that my physiology is nothing short of dim-witted. Doesn't my own body have any sense of its surroundings? It should be able to smell the stale, empty air, feel the cold, lonely space of the sheets, and register with brutal, objective clarity that there isn’t a single female in my bed to anchor this chaotic surge of horny energy. It is an exercise in pure misery, being a guy at this age, caught in the suffocating transition between boy and man. We are left trapped in this purgatory of biology, prowling the halls of high school with a huge hunger that has no outlet, just a constant, burning reminder of everything we haven't earned yet.The school is another level of nig