Half of You

I Am No Luna - (Introduction)*

I've never seen this many wolves here at one time. The den is what humans have given the term mansion to. Beautiful dark wood, four stories tall, large double-doored entrance. Not to speak of our pack crest shining over the front door through blue stained glass, the head of a big wolf with a rabbit hanging limp in it's mouth.

The two tall doors are propped open as people flow in and out of their own accord. Some linger right by the front, talking to others, some are in the tree line or sitting on tailgates drinking. Others sway back and forth to drum music rising from the back yard. Dad drives slowly through the endless rows of cars and trucks, then turns into a parking spot I hadn't seen before now, cutting the engine off.

I can feel the nervous energy radiating from my parents despite their constant attempts to reassure me. My mother's soft green eyes, bright like my own, seemed just a little dim when I caught her glancing at me in the rearview mirror. That all but gave it away.

I do my best not to show my own feelings despite the fact that everything is too bright, loud and smelly here. My senses still haven't adjusted to the changing, which is to be expected. It could take me weeks to get used to my heightened abilities. I'd accidentally broken my door the other night, slamming it after me and Lyon got into an argument. Mom was furious when she saw the damage.

I push the fact that my parents hadn't seemed this uneasy in a very long time to the back of my mind. The rolling pit in my stomach only grows deeper when I remember that they never acted this way at Lyon's first mating celebration - my mother's eyes were full of stars, twinkling as she fussed over every detail of his attire. When he pushed her away, she simply returned to what she was doing before and kept whispering under her breath how important this was.

Although I've looked forward to this moment my entire life, my parent's lack of enthusiasm makes me wish I could go back in time, even to last week, making venison stew over the stove with mom. Sipping bits of steaming broth from spoons during the cooking process to make sure the flavors were developing correctly.

My mate has waited this long, he could wait another year.

Mom opens her door, the first one out, stretching her legs and body. I'm next as I slide out of the small cab and brush some lint off of my jeans. Dad lingers for a few moments before finally joining us, grabbing her hand. Mom leans her body into his as they walk, and I swear I can hear a small sigh coming from her mouth.

They lead the way, and I try to focus on something, anything because of how overwhelming everything is right now. My wolf has been barely introduced to her own pack, much less this many wolves at once. There are so many here that I'm having trouble distinguishing between anyone.

They stop in front of me right before we go inside, and mom turns in my direction. Her stature may be small but the way she holds herself speaks of her many years experience as a warrior. Her body rests as if poised, constantly waiting for an impending attack. Her and father fought in the Great War many years ago, long before me and Lyon were born. Maybe it had something to do with that.

She brings me into a hug without a word, before pulling away and looking into my eyes. Are those tear stains on her cheeks? "Mom-" I start to say, but she interrupts me. "Come, Thea, if we are to meet your mate tonight, we best be in good spirits." Her tone is cheerful even though she's barely spoken since this morning. I wish her words gave me any comfort, but the ball in my stomach only grows.

She turns back around and links her arm with my father's, a small gap in the sea of bodies forming to let us inside. Most of the wolves here understand who my parents are, even if they don't live here. There is a wordless communication in the way they walk that has everyone giving them space. I follow close enough behind them that I can slip through the crowd too.