I never get good sleep the night of my heat.
For that reason, I hate it when full moons fall on school nights. Scratch that, I just hate full moons in general.
Ellie and I still aren't on speaking terms, so I have no one to complain to as the annoying symptoms slowly set in over the course of the fourth Monday since everything changed.
I don't know whether to curse the Moon Goddess or Mother Nature as I shove extra pads into my backpack to absorb the slick I'll be producing all day. Ellie uses tampons, but the thought of shoving something up my ass is still… really uncomfortable. I dodged that bullet on my birthday, and I'm not eager for a preview any time soon.
All my senses feel heightened as I walk into school. Everyone is louder, smells stronger, and even the harsh fluorescent hallway lights seem blinding. I am hyperaware of how my clothing clings to my body and every touch is amplified.
The whole experience sets me on edge, and even Taylor has the good sense not to give me his usual good morning hug, probably because my usually subtle, omegan pheromones reek of discomfort and annoyance right now, heightened by my heat to alpha proportions. The knowledge that the whole pack can smell my emotions right now—even if it's only my stronger ones which leak out into my facial expressions anyways—leaves me feeling dirty and violated.
During volleyball I sweat more than usual, and I can tell Ellie is feeling just as hot. We both are about to pass out when Coach Yukiya sidelines us, telling us to drink some water and take a break. We collapse next to each other on the bench, panting like dogs.
"This sucks," Ellie says casually as if we aren't still fighting.
"Yeah, it really does," I agree, falling into the natural banter we engage in every month. "Who knew a female goddess would be the one to perpetuate misogyny."
Ellie smiles. "I thought you didn't like being called a girl."
"Fine. Perpetuate the patriarchy."
"That doesn't work either. Technically you are the patriarchy."
"Not anymore. Didn't you hear?" I take a long pull from my water bottle, before continuing. "I got kicked out for refusing to marry the head patriarch."
"I thought that's when you joined them, finally realizing you couldn't be restricted to being a mere Luna for the rest of your life."
"I prefer to think I live outside of the patriarchy now. Neither a subject nor a representative."
"Hmmm… I think the Moon Goddess is trying to tell you otherwise."
"This?" I say dramatically gesturing to myself. "This could just be biology. Nothing at all to do with our resident cupid."
Ellie laughs softly, her eyes warming. "I've missed this, Cam. I've missed you."
I've missed her too. I take another long gulp of water.
"Cam, I'm sorry about keeping my suspicions about Davy from you. Can you ever forgive me?"
I sigh, feeling myself finally let go of my resentment. I admit I was being petty, and I just don't have the energy to keep up pointless grudges. "What? Were we fighting?" I meet her eyes and smile teasingly. She releases a breath in relief.
"I love you, bro."
"I love you too, sis."
After practice I wander the halls, trying to burn off my excess energy while I think.
I have been treating my friends and family pretty terribly lately. Some of them, like Mom and Dad, sort of deserve it, but despite how much David's and Ellie's betrayals hurt me, they don't deserve the way I've been behaving towards them. I haven't really thought about their feelings or tried to understand why they did what they did. I certainly don't want to fall into old habits of submitting to other's expectations again, but I also don't want to be alone forever.
It wasn't until I was bantering with Ellie like old times that I realized how lonely I felt. And I deserved it. I have been treating everyone like trash, not caring enough to make any meaningful connections. Even with Taylor, my one relationship that survived all this, I have not tried to have another serious conversation with him since the day after my birthday. I haven't asked him about his grief, his old pack, or being a rogue for two years, despite the nagging feeling that he could probably use a real friend right about now. When I'm with him, it is only ever jokes and frivolity, both of us avoiding the heavy stuff.
I don't want to be like that. Luke called me fake when I cared about everyone's feelings, but I feel just as fake being apathetic towards their wants. Maybe I only ever really cared about what they thought of me. Maybe my people-pleasing was only motivated by a desire to be accepted, rather than genuine love, but I know I don't want that to be the case. I don't want to be so self-absorbed.
Sadly, I've been so consumed by my own feelings these past few weeks, that I haven't even had the courage to confront the one person I still have the energy to really care about.
I am so distracted by my rambling thoughts, I don't notice I wandered right into the shadow witch's labyrinth. The smell of rain-soaked lavender must have guided me here, because it is almost overwhelming now that I'm close to its source. If Alastair notices me approaching, he doesn't show it, continuing to play a melancholy rift. I stop just behind the final turn in the chalkboard maze, sliding down to sit on the ground.
As close as I am, he must be able to sense me, must know I'm here. But he doesn't call me out, and I still can't quite muster up the courage to disturb him. Instead I just listen to his heart wrenching song.
What is he thinking? How is the rest of the coven handling Addy's death? How was the funeral I missed? I hope they said nice things about her. From what Luke told me, I gather it has been hard on everyone. I think she was well liked, despite—or maybe even because of—her eccentricities.
How is Alastair dealing with all their thoughts on top of his? He said they were loud and intrusive, and Ruby told me he wasn't feeling well. I hope it is getting a little quieter, but somehow I doubt that makes it any easier. Is music helpful at blocking them out? Does he know how beautiful he sounds right now?
I want so badly to see him right now, see what expression he is making. His music sounds too alive to be coming from someone with those cold, dead eyes. The melody line is simple and haunting, while the supporting chords fill the graveyard with an eerie ambiance. The sound is achingly sorrowful, but it's also real and raw and alive.
I desperately want to tell him how his music makes me feel, to know if he feels the same, but I'm afraid of breaking whatever spell hangs between us. I not sure why he is tolerating my presence, but I don't want to do anything that might drive him away. Plus I suspect he already knows how I feel.
So I listen in silence. Just absorbing his song, trying to understand what he is telling me through music; feel whatever he is feeling. Just before the bell for lunch rings, I slip away quietly, wondering: for all the people he listens to everyday, how many listen to him?
That night, just like every full moon before, the pack gathers together in the large moon flower glade under the Goddess' blessing to reconnect and strengthen each other. The Alpha announces new werewolves born or welcomed into the pack, new matings, new jobs, occasionally deaths, or other changes in the pack. He sometimes announces expansions to our borders or tells cute stories about the baby pups in nursery. He may ask for help building a new house or remind us about the upcoming apple picking season.
Then we have a large feast all together as a pack. Some transform into wolves and go for runs, some mates adjourn for the evening—taking their duty to "strengthen the pack" quite seriously—and some drink, dance, and socialize around an enormous bonfire.
I hang back with Ellie and even tolerate Tiffany loitering nearby. Even before everything went south between me and the rest of the pack, I never liked being around other people during my heat. I worry that they can smell my perpetual arousal mixed with my heightened pheromones, even if I try to suppress all strong emotions. I feel like they are all constantly staring at me, eagerly waiting to pounce. This is probably just my self-consciousness speaking, and I'm overreacting, but maybe not, as I notice one wolf in particular looking my way.
I try to escape into the forest, before he approaches me, but I am stopped by my mother who grabs my wrist. "Don't go running off. You're still grounded." I grind my teeth together, but she releases me and walks away as David approaches. She has apparently done her job in slowing me down and no longer feels the need to intrude on our inevitable confrontation.
"Cameron, can we talk?" he asks, shuffling awkwardly.
Wasn't I just thinking I should be less selfish and treat my friends better? Try to be more understanding? "Sure," I sigh, "but not here." I pull him away from the crowd deeper into the forest.
We walk for a while in silence, and I let the awkward tension stretch. A part of me—a very small part of me—wants to be friends with David again, but not enough to be the first one to speak. Around us, moonlight brightens our path, but we both know the forest well and wouldn't lose our footing anyways. I hear the comforting sound of howling nearby, and I smile as David pauses to howl in response.
I throw my head back and howl with him, letting myself release everything I've been feeling all day—all month—into the sound. David grins at me, and I let him approach. He reaches his hand to my cheek, but his touch feels like fire on my oversensitive skin.
"I love the sound of your howl," he tells me. "I love your scent. I love everything about you."
"David," I draw back from him slightly.
"Please, Cammy. Anything you want, I'll do it. Anything."
"I care about you David. I really do. A lot."
"Then why?" He begins to cry and my heart breaks a little. I really don't want to see him cry. "Why don't you love me?"
"I'm so sorry David. You can't be what I want, and I can never be what you want. We wouldn't make each other happy. Someday you would realize that, and you would regret all the sacrifices you made for me."
"No I wouldn't! I could never regret being with you!"
"Let me ask you just one thing." He nods, but tears still stream down his face. "Does it bother you that I never call you Davy?"
He knits his brows together, turns down his lip, and blinks rapidly. "I—" he starts. Then stops.
"You've never corrected me, but literally no one else calls you by your given name."
"It was just always your special thing," he whispers, breaking eye contact with me.
"Yes, but did it bother you?"
When he doesn't answer, I have my answer.
"Tell you what. I'll call you Davy from now on and you call me Cam. No more David or Cammy. Then we can start over as real friends."
I wait in silence for his response. "My dad wants me to give up on you, but I don't know if I can that easily."
"Davy," The word is thick and strange on my tongue. "I'm so sorry for pretending I was ok with everything all those years. I was trying so hard to please you and everyone else while desperately clinging to my own identity that I just ended up making everyone upset. I don't know what my future will be, but I want to start deciding for myself what it will look like, and I would really like us to be friends at some point in it. You're an incredible, nice guy, and you deserve a mate who is going to love you unconditionally and not expect you to change for them."
"Thanks… Cam. I can't promise I'll give up on you, but I'll… try."
"Well, I think you're probably straight, so maybe try for a girl next time," I tell him jokingly.
His serious expression breaks into a little shy grin. "Hey! I'm definitely bisexual."
"Right… and have you ever been attracted to a man that wasn't an omega?"
Davy flushes, and I realize I've never asked him about other men before. I sometimes wonder if Davy has ever even looked at someone else, but just based on his facial expression I can tell he has. I chuckle at his embarrassment. "Y— yes," he sputters defensively. "There's… um… I mean, he's not a werewolf, but, you know, just as an example of my tastes, um… Benny from cheer?"
"Benny?! The human twink? See this is what I'm talking about. He doesn't count. If he were a werewolf, he would be an omega."
"Hey, you're one to talk! Now that I know I'm not your type, don't think I haven't noticed how you stared at Pretty Magic Boy all the time."
"Alastair?" I feel the heat rising in my cheeks, but I strangely don't feel embarrassed, just pleasantly warm. "I stand corrected. Apparently you do have good taste in men."
"I don't know about that. I fell for you."
"Wow! Ok. Wow. Ouch. Teasing really? I didn't think you had it in you, Davy."
"I aim to please," he says suggestively.
"Please don't," I chide.
"Yes, sir."
I grin and it strikes me that this is so nice. I've never had this kind of playful banter with Davy before. Now that the air is cleared it seems like we both don't feel the urge to walk on eggshells around each other anymore. Maybe we really could be friends.
"Davy, thanks for everything. I actually do love you, just not romantically."
"I know."
Then, he pulls me into a tight hug. He kisses the top of my head, and I allow myself melt into him one more time. He breathes in my strong, heat-induced scent, and I let myself enjoy the tingling caused by his touch. It's not sexual, just… nice. It feels like hugging my brother or Taylor.
For the first time in weeks, I feel genuinely happy. Happy that this chapter of my romantic life is closed. Happy to have my friend back. Happy to have made up with my sister this morning. Happy to be feeling less alone.
I don't know how long we stand there hugging in the glade near the edge of our pack lands, but peacefulness washes over me as I breathe in calming lavender.