Page 122 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
“I’ll close my eyes,” I promised, letting my eyelids fall shut.
“Hold Freddy for a second.”
Something cold and wriggling was thrust against my chest.Great.
The air grew hushed, broken only by soft grunts of effort. Then pain exploded through my body—musclesscreaming as if they were being torn apart and rebuilt, bones feeling like they were snapping and reforming. I gasped, dropping Freddy as I pressed my hands to my ribs, my spine, anywhere the agony seemed most intense.
Christ, is this what Rory goes through every time?
But more importantly, what the fuck is happening here?
The pain faded as suddenly as it had arrived. I inhaled sharply, opening my eyes.
Wolf-Rory gazed up at me with those same blue-green eyes, now gloriously larger in his lupine face. For a moment, I couldn’t tear my eyes off his coat—it was such a rich tapestry of golds—from pale champagne along his belly to deeper amber across his shoulders and back.
Two silver hoops still glinted in his left ear. I reached down instinctively, stroking the soft fur of his muzzle.
“That felt painful.”
Rory simply yelped, already wiggling out of my grip and bounding towards a nearby rock. Freddy launched himself onto Rory’s head, clinging to the thick fur with tiny claws.
Rory’s nose dropped to the ground, working methodically across the terrain. His movements were fluid, purposeful—following some invisible trail that only he could detect. We moved deeper into the thicket, Rory weaving between trees. Finally, he stopped at the huge stone wall, his attention focused on a gap near the base—a hole just large enough for a person to crawl through.
“This must be where Priya and Felix snuck through,” I said, eyeing it. Would I be able to fit?
There was only one way to find out.
I threw my rucksack to the ground to toss through, then fell to my knees before Rory could dash through the gap and leave me behind.
I squeezed through the gap in the stone wall, my jacket catching on jagged edges as I scraped my way to the other side.
Freddy scampered through, his tiny paws pattering against the ground, followed immediately by Rory. Then they were off again, Rory’s nose pressed to the earth.
He moved so bloody fast I had to break into a light jog just to keep pace with him, my breathing already becoming laboured in the Highland air.
“Christ, Rory, I’m going to have to put a collar on you at this rate,” I muttered under my breath.
A sound that could only be described as a wolf’s laugh burst from Rory’s throat—a huffing, almost wheezing noise that was utterly ridiculous and entirely endearing. Contentment poured out of him like warm honey, and he veered towards me, nuzzling against my legs with his massive head.
For one mad moment, I had a vision of myself walking him through Hyde Park on a lead, tourists stopping to photograph the “unusually large dog.”
The moment of levity shattered as Rory’s behaviour shifted dramatically. His entire body went rigid—then he started dashing ahead in short bursts, then stopping abruptly to look back at me with urgent eyes.
“What is it?”
He took off again, and this time I didn’t bother trying to walk. I broke into a proper run, keeping pace alongside him as we moved through the heather and gorse.
We emerged into a wide, open patch of Highland moorland, the landscape spreading before us under the moonlight. That’s when I saw it—a dark shape on the ground about fifty metres ahead. A body, face up.
Rory zoomed off like a rocket.
“Rory!” I shouted, but there was no stopping him.
I sprinted after him, my lungs burning as I closed the distance. As I got closer, details became clearer—tall frame, brown skin, a face that could have graced magazine covers with its sharp cheekbones and perfect symmetry. Yes, this was definitely Dev.
I felt rather than saw Rory beginning to shift back, and squeezed my eyes shut as that same excruciating pain tore through my body again. I kept my eyes clamped closed until the agony faded, leaving only the sound of ragged breathing.
When I opened them, Rory crouched naked beside Dev’s still form, Freddy on his shoulder, his hands hovering uncertainly over his ex-boyfriend’s chest. Part of me hung back, watching this reunion with a churning mixture of relief and something darker. What if this turned into some Sleeping Beauty situation? What if Dev woke up, saw Rory, and pulled him into a passionate kiss whilst I stood there like a spare part?
