The Luna’s Peak

6

June 18th in the southern sector of our territory in New York…I didn’t remember this area being so big, and so time-consuming, for what I was doing with it.

I half-listened to the recounting of the events that occurred that morning, but the warriors’ retelling was fairly predictable—Dylan noticed two unfamiliar scents, he followed them, and he found the two strangers wandering in the woods. They were cooperative and they stated their names and where they came from…

I finished three assignments. Six to go, and this sector would be finished.

My phone lit up on my desk with a text message from Grady. I opened it.

“Hi, love. Are you busy?”

“Not really,” I replied. “Why?”

Right away, I received a response. “Do you have dinner plans?”

I smiled to myself. “Nope. What are you making?”

She typed for a moment, and I idly typed on my computer as I waited.

Finally, “I made too much soup. Would you like to come over for some?”

Grady’s soup and an opportunity to drive Reid even further out of his mind?! His agitation was already so strong, I could feel it via the Mate-bond.

I wanted him ravenous.

“I’d love to,” I responded to Grady.

I stood up from my chair to retrieve a binder from one of my bookshelves, and I could feel a certain pair of multicolored eyes watching my every move. I took my hair down. I let it tumble down my back and I shook out my loose curls with my fingers. When I returned to my desk, binder in hand, I finally stole a glance at him. His poker face was just as strong as ever, of course, but the urgency swirling in the depths of his eyes was plain to see, even from across the room. I gave him a slight, coy smile. His brow furrowed.

I wrenched my gaze away to force my attention to my binder, but just as I did, my phone vibrated on my desk again, with a new notification from Grady.

“Good. Copeland, Ellie, and Soren are on their way, too,” the message read. “Tell your brute you’re hungry.”

I looked between the binder and my computer screen, and I noticed the time in the bottom right hand corner. It was about 5pm…certainly late enough for an early dinner.

I stood up from my chair again. I crossed the room to take a seat on the couch next to Channing. I glanced up at Reid, seated on his other side, as I adjusted my skirt and crossed one leg over the other. I could see the muscles working in his chiseled jaw. It was clear he was expending quite a bit of effort to focus on the conversation now.

“I do believe Luna was correct in her belief that they were not here to spy,” Channing said, as he flashed me a polite smile. “They were truly unthreatening.”

“I agree,” said Garth.

Darcy and Dylan both nodded in agreement, too.

“Failure to report during your probationary period—” Reid began.

“Happens,” I cut him off, and I knew he’d either overrule me, or I’d receive a physical reminder of our chain of command later.

I hoped for the latter.

“Luna Natalie,” Reid warned lowly, but I ignored him.

“We’ll let you off with a warning, and we’ll extend your probationary period by two weeks,” I continued. “Beta will be in touch with you tomorrow to sign your write-up.”

Dylan exhaled a sigh of relief, and a smile spread across his lips. “Thank you so much, Luna.”

Reid kept his mouth shut, and I noticed a spike in his agitation via the bond.

I returned Dylan’s smile, but still, I informed him, “This will be your only warning.” I knew Reid wouldn’t stand for another silly write-up if Dylan failed to report, or made any other mistake, again.

Silas rattled off a reminder of our confidentiality policy—they weren’t to share details of their encounter with the outsiders with anyone.

“If there are no further questions or comments,” Reid said, “you all are dismissed.”

Our warriors all gave respectful farewells and took their leave. With Channing no longer seated between us, Reid turned his head to glance at me, and I caught the briefest glimpse of something carnal, lurking just beneath his mask of neutrality.

“Silas,” Reid said, and his casual facade felt like an art form, “we’ll save our reporting for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, Alpha?” Silas asked.

“It isn’t due till Friday. Luna’s hungry.”

Immediately, my head snapped up. f*****g hybrid telepathic s**t. He knew I was planning to escape.

“Oh, it’s okay, Alpha,” I cut in, “I was going to stop by Grady’s for dinner.”

“Nope,” he dismissed me simply. “Silas, you’re free to go.”

Pleasant surprise flitted across Silas’s face. “I’m hungry, too. I’ve got leftovers at home.”

One of Silas’s few weaknesses was food. The way he stood and hurried to the door, in a rush to get home to his leftovers, was endearing.

But when the door shut behind him, the atmosphere in the room immediately shifted, like a switch flipped.

I looked over at Reid expectantly, my skin prickling with anticipatory goosebumps. He was already looking at me. He was reclined against the back of the couch, his legs spread wide, his hands resting on his thighs, his relaxed demeanor a sharp contrast to the electricity that crackled between us.

“I should f**k you senseless,” he said smoothly, “right here on this f*****g couch.” He was steady and spoke levelly, yes, but the lustful undertones in his voice, the particular raspiness, and the primal hunger swirling even wilder in his eyes gave him away.

I suppressed a smile. “f**k me senseless?” I repeated. “What ever for?”

“Should we go down the f*****g list?”

I smirked. “Oh, please.”

“First of all, who do you report to, Natalie?”

“As Luna,” I replied, “myself.”

“Yeah?” he asked, and the way he was looking at me sent a shiver down my spine. “Do you think I’ll hesitate to put you in your place?”

“I’ll put you in your place, Reid.”

He stood up, and I giggled when he grabbed me, yanking me to my feet and all but dragging me to my desk.

“You know,” I said, as we went, “I did already tell Grady I’d be there.”

He bent me over my desk without a word. I steadied myself on my elbows, my heart thumping wildly in my chest, as he hastily gathered the fabric of my skirt, draping it over my lower back. Cool air nipped at my exposed flesh and goosebumps rose on my skin again.

He moaned just at the sight of me, a deep, gravelly sound, and a shudder rippled through me. He pushed my legs apart with his thigh, and he ran his fingers over the panels of lace on my ass.

He leaned over me, wrapping one large hand around my throat, forcing me to straighten up a bit, and I squeaked. I clutched at his arm. His arousal was pressed firmly against my backside—he was already hard as a rock. I stretched up on my tiptoes and tilted my hips back, a silent plea for more contact.

“I want to take you home,” he growled into my ear, “but I don’t think you can watch your f*****g mouth long enough to make it there.”

“Seems you need something to take the edge off anyway,” I quipped, and his grip on my throat tightened.