Revolting

Hannah was sitting comfortably on the forest floor, leaning back against Michael's broad chest, licking chocolate off from her fingers. Michael had also enjoyed the warm cookies, and was now content to have his mate back in his arms, her sweet scent calming his anxieties. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed deeply.

Unexpectedly a long, low, mournful howl broke the silence. Hannah immediately leapt to her feet, her face turning towards the boundary line. Michael followed her, standing slowly, placing one hand on her slim shoulder. "Its Boyd," he said quietly. He looked down into Hannah's eyes. "He's probably still crying for Frankie."

Hannah's brow wrinkled up in a frown, and she turned and started toward the sound of the distant howl. "Hannah, wait..."

She didn't listen, and instead started pulling off her t-shirt.

"Hannah, Boyd's a big man, he can deal with this on his own..."

She shot him an exasperated look and shoved her pants off from her hips. He had only a second to admire her beautiful body before she shifted. The girl could change form faster than any other wolf he had ever seen. She went bounding through the woods. Michael sighed, and shifted, galloping after her. He followed her as far as he could but forced himself to stop at the boundary line. He paced back and forth restlessly, torn between staying with his mate, and respecting the rules that had been set out. The Rebel Moon alpha was being lenient for Hannah's sake. But he had no doubt if he stepped over that boundary line, all amnesty would be revoked.

Hannah continued to gallop through the woods until she found Boyd. He was crouched under a tree, his elbows resting on his knees, his scruffy head bowed as his shoulders heaved with silent sobs. She shifted and sat next to him, not caring at all about their nakedness. She touched his head in a motherly, comforting way.

Boyd gasped and looked up at her with red, swollen eyes, and a dirty tear-streaked face. Her expression was soft, compassionate, caring. He snuffled and wiped his nose across the back of his arm. He couldn't speak the words to express what he wanted to say, so he simply pantomimed with his hands. First he outlined the shape of a woman with his hands, as though he were tracing hour-glass curves. Then he grabbed ahold of his heart, closing his eyes, letting his face express the emotion he'd felt at finding his mate. And then finally he traced the hands over his own stomach, indicating a pregnant bump.

Hannah's eyes flashed with understanding.

Boyd almost smiled through his tears. It took a girl who didn't speak to understand him.

She nodded her head, and then shook it. She grabbed ahold of her head as though it were causing her pain. Boyd could only watch her with concern. She lifted her head, and grasped his face between her hands, pulling him closer to her. Her face was screwed up in concentration. She opened and closed her mouth several times before she forced out the words.

"He's dead."

Boyd blinked at her, surprised to hear her soft, hoarse voice. He couldn't make the sounds, but his mouth shaped the word, "Who?"

Hannah shook her head, as though forming those words had taken all her energy. Instead she shaped a pregnant belly over her own womb.

Did she mean the father of the child was dead? Boyd scratched at his head, and wished that he could just have a conversation like a normal man. He peaked at Hannah out of the corner of his eye, and she nodded solemnly, as if confirming his silent question. She reached over and placed her small hand over his heart, and then pointed back toward the Rebel Moon territory. She smiled slightly and nodded.

His eyes followed the direction of her finger. Though there was nothing to see but trees, in his mind's eye he pictured the little blond woman the biggest, bluest eyes he had ever seen. For a moment hope bloomed like a fragile flower... and then it got squashed by the ugly reality. He was nothing. A mute rogue with only the clothes on his back. He had nothing, totally nothing to offer her... or her unborn child.

He sighed and let his head fall between his knees again. It was hopeless.

There was a short howl and a few yips from the boundary line. Michael was growing impatient. Boyd nudged her, and then gestured toward the place where Michael was starting to make a fuss. He mouthed the word "go".

She stood, and he averted his eyes, both out of respect for Hannah, and fear of Michael. He didn't want to be caught looking at Michael's mate in the nude. He sighed. The mate bond was a powerful thing. When he sensed she'd returned to her wolf form, he allowed his eyes to go back to the small ginger colored wolf. He watched her trotting off into the thick trees.

She would have made a great luna, he thought mournfully.