Luna Paige's Arc

Chapter 1 of 10

Luna Paige studied her human hands in the lamplight and hated them. Two weeks ago she had run on four legs through the fae wood. Now her fingers fumbled the clasp of a borrowed traveling cloak, and the moon outside was only a thin curve. She was cousin to a noble house, brown-eyed and pretty enough to pass, but the curse under her skin still pulled toward fur. She needed the moonflower that grew across the border stones, and she needed to know why a fae claim had chosen a human man before her own claim on her body ran out. The rumor at the crossroads was specific. A silver wolf had followed a man named Michael Carney out of the wood and would not leave him. The gentry whispered fae claim. Luna understood the words in her bones. Whatever had bound that wolf to Michael was the same magic that had bound her into this shape. She could not walk up to his door and ask. He was a stranger, and the rumors had already cost him a marriage. A stranger's questions would get her turned away at the gate. So she made a reason. She rode to the herb woman at the crossroads and traded her mother's silver ring for a moonflower and a battered book on wolf customs. Then she rode to the pale mansion on the hill and told the steward the truth, sideways. Her cousin's house had heard of Mr. Carney's trouble. She had brought a gift and a book that might help him. The steward looked at the flower. He looked at the book with the two wolves stamped on its cover. He went inside. Michael met her in the front hall. He was shorter than she expected, brown hair tousled like he had been dragged from a chair, a wine sweater rumpled at the cuffs. The silver wolf sat at his heel and stared at her, and Luna's throat closed. She knew that stare. She had worn it. "You brought me a flower," Michael said. "That's bold. Most people bring pity." "I brought a book too." He glanced at the title. His mouth twitched. "Mates and moonlit bonds. Charming. Are you here to save me or study me?" "Both," Luna said, before she could stop herself. The wolf's ears pricked. Michael watched her face a beat too long. Then he stepped back from the door. "Come in, cousin-of-somebody. You've got about an hour before I decide you're a problem." She crossed the threshold. The wolf did not move aside. It smelled her wrist and made a low sound in its throat, and Luna felt her human skin prickle in answer. Michael saw it. His sass slipped for half a second into something sharper. "Sit," he said. "Start talking." She sat. The gate was open. Now she had to explain herself without giving herself away.