Read Online Moon Crossed (Werewolf Hunter Series): Season 1 (Episodes 1-6) (Crescent Hunter) by Bella Roccaforte - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bella Roccaforte
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I
smile with hooded eyes. Oh God I think I'm actually flirting. Weird.
“Huh, whatchya
got down there?”
“Reinforced steel
bars built into the ground, set with concrete top and bottom, coated
with silver.” I tilt my head, waiting for his response.
“That might be
strong enough if I get the urge to moon-shift,” he concedes
begrudgingly.
“It is,” I
add. “I also place protections on the upstairs so even if you
get out, you'll not be able to get through to the outside of the
house.”
“Smart,” he
comments.
“Yup.”
There's a long silence
while we both swish our drinks around in our glasses, looking around
at everything but each other.
Cole inhales a
tentative breath. “So you think you'll be able to find a cure?”
“I have a lot of
hope. And I'm really trying.” My words sound pleading.
“That's what you
do down there? Look for a cure?” His tone is foreign as though
he's debunking some sort of fairy tale.
“Yes, it is. That
and study for school,” I answer.
“Trevor mentioned
you were too serious.” His accusatory tone isn't lost on me.
“Did he now?”
I purse my lips.
“He did.”
He smiles. “But I'm going to fix that.”
“Really?” I
arch my brows in mocking disbelief.
“Yes, really.”
There's a playful part of me that wants to lick that smug look off
his face. Oh, did I say lick? I meant slap.
“We will.”
I nod, sipping on my straw. “I'm an epic killjoy; it's what I
do. It's the only way to keep these boys in line.” I return the
smug smile.
“Best of luck.
Wolves don't walk the straight and narrow,” he says, eagerly
awaiting my retort.
“Locke does.”
He's my number one. My confidant, my best friend. He's usually pretty
level-headed and mature beyond his years.
“He's also too
serious,” he adds, pointing at me with one finger while the
rest of his hand remains wrapped around the glass, holding a
cigarette.
We're both sitting on
the edge of our seats, leaning toward one another, exhibiting an
offensive posture. Just because I'm not a wolf-borne doesn't mean I
was spared the aggression they can sometimes have. We're also
apparently very passionate about what we're saying. I lean back to
stand down. Hopefully that will relax things between us again. “Nah,
just focused. He wants the cure just as much as I do.”
“So that's what
you do with all of your spare time?” He's genuinely curious.
“Mostly, when I
don't crash and fall asleep.” I roll my eyes at having fallen
asleep and realize I probably still have crusty spittle at the corner
of my mouth even though it's been hours.
“Ha, yeah. It
felt good to sneak up on a hunter.” He gets a serious edge to
his tone. “What were you dreaming about? You were kind of
making some noises.”
The smile that lights
my face gives him the wrong idea. “Oh, it was one of those dreams?”
“No, I don't have those dreams.” Oh God, I’m so embarrassed. “I
was dreaming that I could shift.”
“Really? That's
odd.” He's taken aback.
“Not really, I
watch the boys shift all the time. I obsess on figuring out how to
get them to not shift on the full moon. I'm a...” I
trail off; we've spent enough time tonight discussing the finer
points of me being a hunter. “Anyway, it doesn't seem all that
far-fetched.”
“I guess when you
put it that way,” he concedes. “Before I reached shifting
age I used to dream about it all the time.”
“Really? The boys
never mentioned that.” I resist the urge to run downstairs and
get my tablet so I can make notes. “What were your dreams
like?” I want to compare his with mine, to see if there is
anything I can glean for my research.
“My dreams...I
would shift, then I would run. It was like I was trying out my legs.”
He stops, in thought. I remain silent, studying his features. His
thoughtful eyes, his jaw, the way it softens when he's in deep
contemplation. There's a quality about him that's so different than
anyone I've ever known. “It was like
smile with hooded eyes. Oh God I think I'm actually flirting. Weird.
“Huh, whatchya
got down there?”
“Reinforced steel
bars built into the ground, set with concrete top and bottom, coated
with silver.” I tilt my head, waiting for his response.
“That might be
strong enough if I get the urge to moon-shift,” he concedes
begrudgingly.
“It is,” I
add. “I also place protections on the upstairs so even if you
get out, you'll not be able to get through to the outside of the
house.”
“Smart,” he
comments.
“Yup.”
There's a long silence
while we both swish our drinks around in our glasses, looking around
at everything but each other.
Cole inhales a
tentative breath. “So you think you'll be able to find a cure?”
“I have a lot of
hope. And I'm really trying.” My words sound pleading.
“That's what you
do down there? Look for a cure?” His tone is foreign as though
he's debunking some sort of fairy tale.
“Yes, it is. That
and study for school,” I answer.
“Trevor mentioned
you were too serious.” His accusatory tone isn't lost on me.
“Did he now?”
I purse my lips.
“He did.”
He smiles. “But I'm going to fix that.”
“Really?” I
arch my brows in mocking disbelief.
“Yes, really.”
There's a playful part of me that wants to lick that smug look off
his face. Oh, did I say lick? I meant slap.
“We will.”
I nod, sipping on my straw. “I'm an epic killjoy; it's what I
do. It's the only way to keep these boys in line.” I return the
smug smile.
“Best of luck.
Wolves don't walk the straight and narrow,” he says, eagerly
awaiting my retort.
“Locke does.”
He's my number one. My confidant, my best friend. He's usually pretty
level-headed and mature beyond his years.
“He's also too
serious,” he adds, pointing at me with one finger while the
rest of his hand remains wrapped around the glass, holding a
cigarette.
We're both sitting on
the edge of our seats, leaning toward one another, exhibiting an
offensive posture. Just because I'm not a wolf-borne doesn't mean I
was spared the aggression they can sometimes have. We're also
apparently very passionate about what we're saying. I lean back to
stand down. Hopefully that will relax things between us again. “Nah,
just focused. He wants the cure just as much as I do.”
“So that's what
you do with all of your spare time?” He's genuinely curious.
“Mostly, when I
don't crash and fall asleep.” I roll my eyes at having fallen
asleep and realize I probably still have crusty spittle at the corner
of my mouth even though it's been hours.
“Ha, yeah. It
felt good to sneak up on a hunter.” He gets a serious edge to
his tone. “What were you dreaming about? You were kind of
making some noises.”
The smile that lights
my face gives him the wrong idea. “Oh, it was one of those dreams?”
“No, I don't have those dreams.” Oh God, I’m so embarrassed. “I
was dreaming that I could shift.”
“Really? That's
odd.” He's taken aback.
“Not really, I
watch the boys shift all the time. I obsess on figuring out how to
get them to not shift on the full moon. I'm a...” I
trail off; we've spent enough time tonight discussing the finer
points of me being a hunter. “Anyway, it doesn't seem all that
far-fetched.”
“I guess when you
put it that way,” he concedes. “Before I reached shifting
age I used to dream about it all the time.”
“Really? The boys
never mentioned that.” I resist the urge to run downstairs and
get my tablet so I can make notes. “What were your dreams
like?” I want to compare his with mine, to see if there is
anything I can glean for my research.
“My dreams...I
would shift, then I would run. It was like I was trying out my legs.”
He stops, in thought. I remain silent, studying his features. His
thoughtful eyes, his jaw, the way it softens when he's in deep
contemplation. There's a quality about him that's so different than
anyone I've ever known. “It was like
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