Page 1 of Moon Tamed

ONE

Fur would fly.

I should have called in sick. Had I pretended to suffer from some ailment, my name wouldn’t have been on the list of potential sacrificial lambs doomed to work for the Hunters of Moonriver for the next week, possibly for longer.

I enjoyed change, and I preferred it on a daily basis.

The Hunters of Moonriver would give me change for a few days, but after a week, the monotony would do me in. All factions were alike. Once someone settled into their role, that was it. They stared down an endless tunnel of the same old routine, climbing the social ladder for higher pay, slight modifications to their daily duties, and more responsibilities.

After a month of that, I would surely go mad.

As one of Moonriver’s unaffiliated, I flitted from faction to faction, filling in for those who couldn’t work for whatever reason. I preferred when I covered for one of the craft factions, but after a week of doing the same job over and over, I craved new waters, new experiences, and new people.

I loved the thrill of discovery, and none of the factions offered me the variety I needed to be satisfied with my lot in life. As a result, I remained one of the oldest unaffiliated in the city-state, working at a temp firm.

My boss understood how I ticked and made certain I tested new waters often.

Had I done something to irritate my boss? A job with a minimum duration of a week counted as my personal nightmare, although I would do the work with a smile if it was asked of me.

“I knew I should have selected a faction last quarter.” Of my co-workers, Sila tended to be the first to voice a complaint but the last to do anything about her situation. Had anyone else tried that garbage with me, I would have moved on, but Sila somehow managed to make me smile, even during dire situations. While she complained and rarely acted, if she could help someone else, she would.

My friend was a queen of contradictions.

She cleared her throat to make certain she held my attention. As she rarely put up such a fuss, I did as she wanted and met her gaze.

“I told you we should have made our selections last quarter, Coraline,” Sila whined.

Any other day, I would have told her to mind her own business or muttered about her attitude. Today, I wanted to join her and abandon my professionalism to indulge in a childish temper tantrum over the situation. If I had picked a faction last quarter, I would have avoided the entire problem, but I doubted I would have been happy with my choice. Still, she made a good point. “You might be right. How many qualified for the job?” With a little luck, all six hundred or so of the firm’s employees were eligible for selection, significantly limiting my chance of being the unlucky one.

The last thing I needed was a long-term contract with any faction, let alone the undisputed rulers of Moonriver.

“Twenty,” Sila informed me in a solemn tone. “Of which we are two of the twenty. I peeked at the list. More accurately, the boss asked me to warn you that you are on the list, and he will not believe any excuse you might concoct to dodge this. As such, you can’t avoid your dance with doom. I fear it’s probable you’re the unlucky soul stuck with the Hunters contract. Why else would he make me make you show up?”

Until it was confirmed I was stuck with the contract, I would hope someone else would win the assignment. As there were more than twenty people in the room, I assumed our boss had another reason for calling everyone together. Usually, he either dropped the contracts off at our desks or sent us an email telling us we had feet and should use them.

I longed to voice a curse, but professionalism demanded I remain silent.

“There’s a rumor that the odds aren’t equal. By request.”

I relaxed, as my general skill set meant I spent most of my time working with craft or artisan factions in a secretarial or accounting role. “The boss asked you to toy with me, didn’t he?”

“Maybe a little. He didn’t tell me who was picked, just that somebody has already been assigned the contract. He mandated that you must deal with the stress just like everyone else. But you’re no Hunter, and everybody knows it. But maybe the boss wants to add a little extra versatility to your resume? As far as I know, it’s only for a week or two.”

The wolf-dominated Hunters needed athletic, strong people with a fondness for difficult challenges. I preferred difficult mental challenges, especially when numbers were involved. While anyone could discover their animal and begin shifting at any age, those who wanted to shift actively pursued their magic—or they partnered with a shapeshifter.

I had opted against putting in the effort; I struggled enough getting through life without the additional complications associated with shapeshifting. I also dodged dating shapeshifters, as most who married a shifter developed the magic through frequent exposure.

As such, I did my best to avoid anyone associated with the Hunters of Moonriver, who ran the city and nearby towns with iron paws, common sense, and tolerable ethics.

“Well, that should eliminate me, then,” I said, allowing myself a relieved sigh. “Me, working with the Hunters? You said it yourself. I’m no Hunter.”

Fur would fly, and not in a good way.

The last thing I needed in my life was to develop magic, especially of the shapeshifting variety.

Sila snickered. “With that comment, you just guaranteed your selection. That is what normal people call testing their luck. Have you worked for the Hunters before?”

“No.” With Sila, short and to the point worked the best. If I gave her a single opening, she would talk me to death and force me to regret my decision to be her friend.

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