Chapter 0271

Hannah

The weeks leading up to the Summer Hunt flew by faster than I expected—even faster than the days leading up to the charity gala, despite being longer. Noah and I worked side by side, true to our agreement to extend the divorce for another two months. But the tension between us was palpable, like a taut rubber band ready to snap.

Every time our hands brushed while passing documents, every stolen glance across the room, sent shivers down my spine. My wolf whined restlessly, yearning for his touch even more than before. The memory of our night together haunted me, intensifying the urge. It was as if that taste of ecstasy had made me addicted, leaving me craving more.

Each night, I was too restless to sleep. I kept thinking of him, of the sensation of him inside me, pursing my lips, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to push Noah from my mind. But each night, it was impossible. Each night, my face burning with shame, my hand would move under the blankets, whispering his name. Then, each morning, I would pretend it hadn't happened.

“Hannah?”

I jerked my head up from my buttered toast, my eyes bleary, to see Noah standing by the coffee pot. He hadn’t approached me for sex since that night, and I hadn’t approached him. Yet, even as I looked at him, I was already imagining taking his clothes off—

“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head to dispel the thoughts. “What is it?”

“What do you think about this layout for the banquet?” He handed me a slip of paper with a crudely drawn map—a seating chart for the banquet following the hunt, where we would—hopefully—roast and eat the deer we hunted.

“It’s good,” I said, my mouth full of toast as I studied the map. “But maybe we could move the dessert tables closer to the dance floor? Encourage more mingling.”

Noah nodded, taking the paper back. I watched him scribble something on it with a pencil, then tuck both pencil and paper into his pocket. “Always thinking about the social dynamics. This is why I need you here.”

His words sent a pang through my chest. Need, not want. That was for the best, no matter how painful. And that was what that night had been: needing. Nothing more, nothing less.

“We should also consider more vegetarian options,” I said. “Some of the younger pack members have been asking for it.”

Noah scoffed, but nodded. “It’s becoming more common these days, isn’t it?”

I hesitated, then said, “That actually reminds me; maybe we should set up an activity for the children and anyone who doesn’t want to—or can’t—participate in the killing.”

Noah considered this for a moment before sweeping to the door. His cologne hit my nose as he passed, and I felt like I might faint. “I’ll consider it,” he said, then left me alone with my toast and a squirming sensation in my thighs.

Eventually, the day of the hunt dawned on the first day of summer, as per tradition. The location was perfect, largely thanks to my expertise as Luna. Due to a long week of rain, the original land had become too wet, so I’d secured a new location by calling in a few favors accrued during my eating disorder campaign.

As I approached the grounds, the clearing was already bustling. Lanterns hung from tree branches, casting a warm glow over the misty forest. The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of roasting meat and fresh bread, and children hopped around in the underbrush searching for toads.