When finally the howling stops, my attention is pulled back to Mia.
“Now let’s have a good time!” she shouts, and there’s a cheer from the crowd.
The circle disbands, people gravitating back to the fires and to refill their mugs. A few members of the Rocky Pack, amped up by the howling, whip off their clothes in the shadows and shift into their wolf forms, running off into the darkness.
“They’re really going for it,” I say as Mason, Katie, and I make our way to a hexagonally shaped arrangement of logs.
“Oh yeah, it’s like I said: that extra lunar energy around the blood moon.”
“It’s kind of like the Blue Moon Festival all over again,” Katie says, suggestively arching a brow in my direction.
“Sure,” I mutter. I’ve lost sight of Jasper since the circle broke up.
“So you guys have never heard of the blood wolf before?” Mason asks as we sit.
Katie and I both shrug in response.
“Is it true?” I ask. “I mean, is it just a superstition or has the blood moon really made someone go crazy?”
“Well, I can’t say for sure if this was because of the blood moon or a curse from the Moon Gods, or just a coincidence, but there was one guy, about twenty years ago—a Rocky Pack wolf, a gamma, one of my dad’s subordinates—who went up to Wolf Point to see the blood moon, and when he came back…”
Mason pauses.
“What?” Katie asks.
“He was never the same.”
“What happened to him?” I ask.
“I’m not sure—my parents never really told me the full story. I think he probably left the pack, went rogue.”
“That’s so sad,” Katie says.
“He was probably just some guy who needed help,” Mason says, “and we just didn’t know how to give it to him.”
Mason goes quiet, staring into the flames. I wonder if he’s thinking about whether his parents would accept his differences if they knew about them. Accepting wolves who deviate from the norm is not a pack’s strong suit: it’s not in our nature.
I notice Mason’s cup is empty.
“Hey, you want a refill?” I ask, pulling Mason back from the brink.
“Sure,” he says, then turns to Katie. “While he’s gone, let’s come up with a plan to get your mate situation back on track.”
I wander in the direction of the glühwein, and I have to be honest, I’m kind of amazed. Mason is so thoughtful—he just wants to help me and Katie, who are struggling with our mate situations, even though it can’t be easy for him. I guess he’s right: we are like our own pack, even if we’re separated by territories and alphas. And we need to look out for each other, or we could end up like that gamma, alone and packless.
“Two refills and one more cup, please,” I say to the woman sitting next to the crockpot.
While she fills our mugs I turn and immediately spot Jasper sitting in a circle, Clayton to his right chatting to some girl, and Mia on his left, leaning against him, with his jacket draped over her shoulders.
That’s it!
If someone like Mason, the kid of a high-ranking wolf, can be so cool and supportive, why can’t Jasper? Why do I have keep finding him looking all flirty with someone else? Someone with an agenda.
“There you go,” the glühwein woman says, but I’ve lost my thirst.
“Sorry, I just remembered I have to…go.” I turn and run straight into Olivia, who’s just appeared out of nowhere holding an empty mug.
“Ugh, watch it,” she says, glaring at me like I’ve just rammed her Porsche with my rusty pickup.
