Page 123 of Conner's Luna

"Dr. Honekier," I murmur. I haven't seen him around lately. His special project is over. Tonight I had been working on the lab's current study of genetic mutations of European bloodlines.

"Why didn't you build your own lab?" I ask Sarj. ClearHowl certainly can afford it.

"I'm not sure. I guess the real question is; with what scientists?" he asks me, shrugging. "CH is a billion-dollar company, but they have less than a thousand wolves."

"Is that small?" I ask him. I push my glasses up eagerly and wait for his response.

His smile is slightly sad, "I'm from a larger pack, up in Canada. The RustClaw," he says quietly. "My brother is the alpha."

"Why are you here?" I ask him quietly, picking up on his somber mood.

"I... had to get away for a while," he responds. "Ah... I'm... there's this thing, called MateLess. I shifted and... um... knew I didn't have a mate out there."

I study the lines of his face. He's young, just few years older than me, but at that moment his eyes are ancient. He's carrying a world of hurt inside.

"Can you find someone?" I ask him. "Like Conner and I?" I hold my breath, worried that I overstepped, but also concerned that Sarj will tell me that finding love outside of your mate is impossible for wolves.

He smiles. "You're meant to be mated to a wolf, Bailey, but, yeah. Falling in love is always possible. Hell, I've seen it happen in a good way and in a fucking awful way, but I'll be honest, you and Conner make it look easy."

My heart sinks to my toes. We make it look easy. Because we're so good together, or because I have some sort of lust-inducing siren gene? My arms tighten on my backpack. I'll start testing tonight.

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31 - Romeo, Oh, Ro-Me-Oh

Conner

I drop another mouthful of cabbage on the doorstep. It's been two days since Bailey was injured and sent to the hospital. Three days of virtual silence from her after she practically begged me for space. Space is shit, that's for fucking sure. One more day left until Christmas Eve and I take her out for our date.

My wolf is being driven crazy. Our female is living on RedMoon land, barely communicating with us other than a couple of text messages, injured and exhausted and possibly traumatized from learning I'm a wolf. Sarj told me that she seemed scared when they left Honekier Labs today. I harangued him until he spilled that some old fucker asked her out.

Jogging into the woods, I let my wolf piss on a few trees and rub against the bark of some more, making sure I spread my scent all over my territory. Whenever he scents one of the RedMoon fuckers, he digs and pisses, and at one point defecates over an older, faded scent of Trey.

Assholes. Stay away from my female.

I shift back at the edge of the tree line, staring up at the soft glow of light from Bailey's bedroom window. I lick my lips, imagining climbing up there again, like fucking Romeo to my Juliet. Only, I don't think Romeo ever woke up Juliet with his face between her legs. If he had any balls, he would have.

I stroke my cock a few times, hard and frustrated and leaking precum just from the thought of what's between Bailey's legs. I wonder if she shaves or just trims? Or is it wild? Fuck.

I grab my phone from my pile of clothes I discarded earlier and call her. She won't answer. She hasn't picked up her phone the last two times I called tonight. I wait as it rings, stroking myself and picturing those sweet, bee-stung lips wrapped around my cock. Her message comes on as my balls swell with my impending orgasm. I grit my teeth, jerking myself more roughly as her voice fills my ears.

"Hi, this is Bailey. Please leave a message!"

"Fuck, Bailey," I gasp as cum spurts from my dick. Snarling, I jerk myself all over the tree trunk that grows closest to her bedroom window. Panting, I squeeze out the last few drops, moaning her name again, "Bailey."

"Conner?"Comes through the connected phones. Her sweet voice washes over me and I smile, leaning against the tree trunk.

"Conner? Is that you? Are you OK?"

Aw, fuck. I force my eyes open, looking up at her window. There's no movement, but she doesn't sound sleepy. It's late, maybe two in the morning. She's usually asleep by now.

"Hey, honeygirl," I murmur. "I'm fine."

There's a pause, then she suspiciously asks,"what are you doing?"

"Thinking of you," I reply. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Why aren't you sleeping?"she shoots back.

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