SEVENTY-SIX | MABBEN

Atticus

The sound of Lily’s howl made something earthen, something primal, roar to life in Atticus’s chest. He howled back, an Alpha calling to his Luna, to his mate. There were no complications here, like this: there was just the craggy silhouette of trees above and the rumpled earth below, with darkness filling every cavern in between.

It was not the darkness of hate or shadows; it was the cool balm of the shade on a summer’s day, the comfort of solitude shared with another. Atticus revelled in it, his huge black body blurring with it as he moved through the woods.

It should always have been this way. This was right; Atticus felt it in every part of him, in the pulse of his blood and in the shards of his bones. As Lily slowed, he did too. They were one: light and dark, shadow and sun. He nudged her with his nose, playful, joyous. This was right. This had always been meant to come to pass.

Her words from before stung, but they had lost their barb as she’d shifted with him. This was a