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19. Bridging gaps
Lena WindsorLet me know what you guys think of the story so far!
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The Way You Taste 20. Moonlit desires
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW ****RATED R**** Theoretically, Mondays are a holy day for werewolves. “Moon day”. Everyone in Ghost Pack has a day off, except for essential workers. It’s the only day on which Cadets have no training, and it’s the only day on which there are no meetings with the ranked wolves. Yet, we partially live in a human world, so those with jobs outside the territory proceed as usual. I actually don’t have any classes on Mondays this semester, so I could be back in the territory chilling with my friends and enjoying my free time. Instead, I’m hiding in the University laboratory. I’m trying to convince myself that I’m doing something productive, that I’m actually working on my research. But I’m not. I’m sulking and brooding. I’m trying to figure out what I’ll do today. I’m hiding from Willow. Per our agreement, I’ll be spending time with her today. She pretty much decided on it for me, she said I had to take her to dinner and to the Moonlit Communion afterward. It
The Way You Taste 21. Heartbeats and heresies
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW Ah! Goddess! Holden’s tongue is a gentle caress to my soul. He brings me so close to the edge I’m about to scream his name, and then he detaches his mouth from my pussy, looking up at me with heavy-lidded eyes. Fucking tease. His eyes are glassy, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. “I need you inside me,” I plead breathlessly. He pulls me towards the edge of the rock and stands between my legs. His cock brushes lightly against my inner thighs, and I moan softly in anticipation. Before he can act on my request, a distant howl cuts through our lust-filled haze, sending a shiver down my spine. It’s close. Too close. Holden stiffens. “Not now,” he snarls, looking around. “Fucking shit,” Jamie protests in my head, and I growl out loud. Holden chuckles at my reaction, and I stand up. He helps me fix my dress, his face a mix of disappointment and worry. “We’re not safe here,” he says. Once we’re back in the car, the tension is palpable. We’re both on edge, l
The Way You Taste 22. The weight of leadership
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW We all sit around the large table in the Council Room, while Father paces around. The ranked wolves – Alpha Michael, Luna Daphne, Beta Ricardo, Gamma Linda, and Delta Adrew -, along with the pack’s official Moonseer, Elder Johnson, are collectively known as the High Council, the ones responsible for all decisions in the pack. They’re often joined by the future ranked wolves, so today, Nick, Rhys, Sally, Olivier, and I are here too. I’ve never seen those people looking so grim. The atmosphere in the room is thick, charged. Anxiety, fear, and anger are evident in our faces. “We have a breach,” Father begins, his voice echoing with authority. “Someone entered our territory, tainted our sacred grounds, and we have no idea who they are. We can’t let this slide.” He slams a fist on the table, making us all stand at attention. “This act of defiance is not just a slap in our face, but an affront to Selene herself,” Nick says, with a reddened face, flared nostril
The Way You Taste 23. Whispers in the Barracks
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW In wolf form, Jamie and I are more connected to nature and to the Goddess. We’re even more connected to each other, and sharing our feelings and thoughts feels both terrifying and comforting. I don’t know what I would do without her to lean on. The horrible sight of the defaced Altar of Selene hurts even worse this way. I don’t want to face it, to face reality. I don’t want to face the thoughts of what this means for my pack, for wolfkind as a whole. Every step, every breath feels heavier with the weight of the thoughts racing through my mind, so I try to outrun them. The cool earth underneath feels soothing against my paws, almost like the earth is trying to absorb some of the chaos within me, some of the grief. The wind rushes past me, brushing against my fur as I sprint through the forest. The trees blur around me as we remember the gut-wrenching sight of the Shell. The sacred place of our ancestors, violated. I hear distant howls and feel how heavy th
The Way You Taste 24. Strength amidst despair
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW Well, this has to be the most depressing Tuesday ever. It’s like there’s a dark cloud looming over the pack, making the mood desolate, somber. But, like Alpha Michael said, we can’t afford to falter, we must push through. And so, the air is also filled with resolve. The Cadets gather at the indoors gym, a sea of sad faces, in stark contrast to the usual vibrant energy. Gamma Rhys leads us and does his best to show strength, but I can see the strain in his eyes. He guides us through cardio, weightlifting, and sparring. As my legs pump and my lungs burn, I feel a sense of release. Each pounding footstep seems to drive away a little of the darkness that has taken over me. Then, I do my best to get distracted by Gamma Rhys’ and Olivier’s history lesson. They go over a historical battle, analyzing the terrain, the different strategies, possible alternatives, and what they could’ve resulted in. I’m sure it would be a very interesting lesson if my mind was fully
The Way You Taste 25. Bittersweet
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW Holden pulls back and stares into my eyes so intensely that I’m sure he can see into the very depths of my soul, he can see my innermost dreams and desires. His eyes are filled with adoration and a heat that makes my heart race. Yet, despite that, I see a glimmer of vulnerability in his gaze, like he’s on the edge of a precipice, grappling with feelings he’s yet to fully understand. “I was wrong,” he whispers huskily. “What do you mean?” I ask confusedly. “The Goddess is real. You’re it. And I’m going to worship you now.” A shiver of anticipation runs down my spine at his words, and my eyes flutter shut as his hand tenderly caresses my cheek. Our lips meet in a fervent kiss, the world fading away as we lose ourselves in each other. The connection between us deepens, and I can feel the walls he built around himself starting to crumble. I hear his heartbeat thundering, matching the tempo of my own, and I know desire is coursing through his veins just as
The Way You Taste 26. Wrestling with fate
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW As I shower, I do my best to wash off the thoughts flooding my mind. Thoughts of last night, of my moment with Willow, thoughts that leave me both exhilarated and terrified. It’s like a whirlwind of emotions crashing through me, and I can’t quite make sense of it all. My morning routine should help, right? Cardio, weights, sparring with Nick – each move is supposed to bring clarity, but it’s like I’m going through the motions while my mind is still lost in a haze. And half of me is trying to push me off the edge. “I’m not the only one trying to make you give in. You know there’s more to this than instincts. It’s real. Don’t try to deny it, that’s not a good look on you,” Hendrix says, just as I deliver a solid punch on Nick. Hendrix keeps going in my head, but as I spar with Nick, I find myself drifting into thoughts of Willow once again, into the memories of last night. Her smile, her touch. It’s all there, carved into my mind. A misplaced step and Nick’
The Way You Taste 27. A "date" with the supernatural
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW A chill runs down my spine as I stare at my reflection. Dressed in casual jeans and a dark shirt, I can’t help but feel nervous about the upcoming evening with Willow. I had the entire morning in class to daydream about every single possible outcome, and I can’t tell which ones I like most, and which ones I dread most. This is the first time I’m going unguarded to a meeting with her since the welcoming dinner. Last night, she beat me at my own game. Her argument struck a chord with me. I’m starting to entertain the thought that giving in to the bond and joining forces with her might be the most sound, rational idea. “You’re learning,” Hendrix says, pacing around in my head in anticipation. I never expected to find myself on a date, especially not with Willow. She’s the antithesis of everything I am – mystical where I’m logical, fiery where I’m cold. Or where I try to be cold. “You didn’t use quotation marks,” I ignore Hendrix’s banter. Yet, here we
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