Page 95 of Wolf Bonded (Rejected Moons 2)

I open the door carefully and slip outside.

The moon isn’t full, but it’s getting close. As soon as I’m standing under it, I feel more powerful. It’s like I’m a balloon. When I’m inside, I’m slightly deflated, bumping along the floor. But when I’m out in the moonlight, I regain my full size. My outsides stretch to take in all the magic.

My body lifts slightly off the ground.

Yes.

I reach for the moon, pulling it toward me, pulling myself toward it. Hovering was the very first piece of magic I ever did, back when I was still with Victor and the pack. I didn’t know what I was doing then.

I do now.

I let my magic lift me up to the roof of Giuseppe’s. If Wilder were here, he would have insisted we climb, but I don’t want to risk kicking the side of the building and making noise. I can’t let my mates catch on to what I’m doing.

I reach the roof and step onto it easily. I cross to the center and sit down, legs crossed, arms resting on my knees.

I close my eyes.

I couldn’t tell my mates everything. I couldn’t tell them why it is that I’m so confident our child is going to survive.

But the answer is simple.

My baby will live because I refuse to let him—or her—die. There is nothing I won’t do. There are no lengths to which I won’t go.

I know what Wilder and I agreed on. I know what I promised.

I don’t care.

So this time, when I open myself up to the power of the moon, I don’t just let it fill me like sunlight, the way he told me to do.

I pull from it. I do exactly what he told me to avoid. I drink in the moon’s energy as if I’m stranded in the desert and I haven’t had water for weeks, as if it’s the only thing keeping me alive.

I need every drop of it if I’m going to have enough strength to protect my baby.

I channel all that power and energy inward, toward the little spark of life I’ve detected inside myself. I give it everything I know how to give. Healing magic, to make sure it’s in the best condition it could possibly be. Shield magic to make sure that nothing can hurt it. I visualize my baby growing big and strong and healthy and perfect.

And I feel it respond, taking in what I have to give.

This is how I’m going to keep my baby alive until it’s ready to live on its own. I’m going to give it the power of the moon.

I’m wrong to do it, and I know that. Wilder would scold me for it. Milo would be horrified. What I’m doing now…these are Moon Drinker tactics.

I just have to believe that it’s different for me. It’s different because of the fact that I’m not trying to gain power, and I’m not trying to hurt anybody. I’m trying to save a life. That has to be worth doing.

Besides, I’m one person. How many times has Wilder told me that one person doesn’t have the power to hurt the moon? I might be behaving alittlerecklessly—all right, I definitely am—but there won’t be any consequences. It’s just me alone. It would be different if I was asking the men to help me with this, but if everything goes according to plan, they’ll never know.

I exhale, letting the power of the moon go for now. It’s enough for tonight.

“Emlyn?”

I startle and look toward the voice.

Wilder is standing on the ground, looking up at me, concern etched into his features.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say. I get to my feet and head quickly over to the edge of the roof. Because Giuseppe’s is partly sunken into the ground, I’m only a few feet up, so I’m able to jump down fairly easily.

“Are you okay?” Wilder asks. “Not in any pain, are you?”

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