Moonlight In Ash

CHAPTER 2

I slung my tray down on the cafeteria table like I owned it, though technically, I didn’t own anything here except my smart mouth and quick wit, and those came with zero guarantees for survival. Felix was already there, sprawled across the bench like cafeteria royalty. Leah sat opposite him, perfectly poised in that way that made her look like she had it all together. Which, of course, she didn’t.

“Hey.” I said, plopping down beside them and nudging her. “Try not to act like people can see us. I like my anonymity.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “You mean you like your drama-free bubble.”

I grinned. “Yeah, that too. Mostly the drama.”

Felix chuckled, biting into his sandwich…somehow making cafeteria meatloaf look gourmet.

“Seriously.” I said. “How do you make a slab of meatloaf look i********:-worthy?”

He shrugged. “Genetics, maybe.”

I laughed, but something in the air felt off, like static under skin.

Of course, that’s when Simon showed up.

Simon, the alpha’s son…blond, smug, and certain the world revolved around him. He swaggered toward Felix with all the confidence of someone whose father’s name could bend the rules, or at least the football team.

“Felix!” Simon bellowed, voice booming across the cafeteria. “Dude, did you hear about the…”

I tuned out, eyes tracking Simon’s movements. That practiced alpha son swagger, the curl of arrogance in his mouth, but also something heavier, like a shadow clinging to him effortlessly.

“You listening?” Felix snapped.

“Uh, yeah, totally.” I said, forcing a smile. My brain was doing backflips. A buzz in my chest made the air feel thicker.

Focus. Don’t. Feel. Don’t.

Simon ignored me. He leaned toward Felix, whispering about football stats that didn’t matter. Inevitably, he veered into dangerous territory.

“You heard about Nathan, right?” Simon said, loud enough for nearby tables to perk up. “My dad said he’s been seen around the packlands.”

I froze. The cafeteria noise dimmed. Nathan…rival alpha’s son, dangerous, unpredictable, a storm smelling of smoke and frost. And now his name was out in the open.

Simon leaned on the table, smirking. “Honestly, Nathan’s just full of hot air. Acts like he’s dangerous, but he’s all talk. My dad says he wouldn’t last a day without his pack backing him.”

Felix shifted uncomfortably. “Still… he’s not someone I’d mess with, man.”

Simon laughed. “Please. The guy’s a wannabe alpha with daddy issues…”

“Shut up, Simon.” I snapped before I could stop myself.

His head jerked toward me, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me? You don’t tell me to shut up, Margot. I’m the Alpha’s son. You don’t get to forget your place.”

My jaw clenched. “Guess I just did.” I said.

I felt it before I even saw him. The pull in my chest, subtle at first, then sharpening like someone had flicked a switch. It was primal. Intense. I blinked, gripping my tray so no one would notice my pulse spiking. That’s why I told Simon to shut up. Because I knew that he was coming. I could feel it.

Felix shifted uncomfortably beside me, sensing the tension before he fully understood it. Leah’s fingers drummed against the table, rapid and nervous.

And then, just like that, he was there.

Nathan.

He appeared behind Simon as if he’d simply materialized, shadowed in the glare of the cafeteria lights. There was no entrance, no preamble. He just… existed. And the room seemed to acknowledge it, the chatter dimming slightly as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.

I froze, and my stomach betrayed me with a flutter so sharp I thought I might actually levitate off my chair. My brain screamed, Don’t show it, Sage. Don’t show it.

But my body didn’t listen.

Nathan’s eyes met mine, and for a fraction of a second, I felt everything. The pull was stronger now, a tug at something buried deep, a resonance that shook my bones. It was matebond energy…I knew it, even if I couldn’t name it out loud. The connection was subtle, dangerous, and impossible to ignore.

I forced myself to look away, hiding behind my fork as if stabbing at a meatball could erase the awareness burning across my chest.

Nathan tilted his head slightly, just enough that I knew he sensed it too. A flicker of curiosity crossed his face, sharp and wary, but then he leaned into the moment with a calm that unnerved me more than his sudden appearance ever could. He played it off, pretending nothing happened, glancing briefly at Simon before straightening up.

Simon, completely unaware of the tension that had just flickered through the air, continued his rant. “...and I swear, my dad said Nathan’s up to something. The packlands aren’t safe with him roaming…”

Nathan stepped closer, shadows stretching with him. “You’ve got a lot to say about me, Simon.” He said evenly. “Care to repeat it?”

Simon stiffened, words dying on his tongue.

I leaned back in my chair, smirking. “Careful, Nathan. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene. Some people bruise easy.”

Nathan’s eyes slid to me, slow and assessing. “You must be Margot. The one who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

I tilted my head. “Oh, I know when. I just don’t care enough to.”

A ghost of a grin tugged at his mouth. “You always this mouthy?”

“Only when someone’s worth it.” I said sweetly.

Felix kicked me under the table, but Nathan just chuckled…low and dark, like he couldn’t decide whether to be irritated or entertained.

“Well.” He said finally, eyes still locked on mine, “try not to get yourself in trouble, smart mouth.”

“Don’t worry.” I shot back, grinning. “Trouble usually finds me first.”

Nathan laughed softly and turned away, leaving Simon red-faced and sputtering as the whole cafeteria watched him shrink in his own shadow.

Just like that, he disappeared, leaving a faint trace of… something lingering behind him. Smoke? Ice? I couldn’t place it. All I knew was that the space he had occupied felt empty, yet heavier, like the air itself had absorbed his presence.

Felix exhaled sharply, finally noticing the tension. “Uh… everything okay?” His eyes flicked between me and where Nathan had stood.

I forced a smile. “Yeah, fine. Totally fine.” My voice sounded too high, too fast. Smooth. Casual. I stabbed my fork at my meatball with a bit more force than necessary. “Just lunchroom paranoia, you know. Happens all the time.”

Leah looked unconvinced, but she didn’t press. She was smart that way. Instead, she gave me a quick glance, one that said You’re lying, I know it, but okay.

Simon, still jabbering about football and Nathan’s supposed threat, didn’t notice the strange current buzzing through the cafeteria. No one did. That was the worst part. I felt isolated in my own body, a storm brewing behind my ribs that no one could see.

I kept my hands busy, pretending to butter my bread, but the pull in my chest didn’t stop, a low vibration that hummed every time I thought of Nathan.

Leah leaned toward me. “You feel that too, right?”

I shot her a look, trying for casual. “Feel what?” My pulse was still racing.

“That… him.” She nodded toward where Nathan had stood. “It’s weird.”

I bit back a comment about mysterious alpha sons. Even here, I couldn’t admit how much he’d affected me. That would be reckless.

Felix looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Did he just appear?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, and I saw a unicorn drinking a latte. Totally normal, Felix.”

He didn’t laugh, just kept staring at the space Nathan had left.

Simon finally noticed and frowned. “Wait… where did he…?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. Nathan was gone, but the feeling he left behind wasn’t. It clung to me like static, impossible to shake.

By the end of lunch, my stomach was half-empty, my nerves fried, my thoughts spinning. I kept replaying the moment our eyes met…the flicker of recognition, the pull of something I couldn’t name.

I’d survived high school and worse. But this? This matebond feeling? That was different. Uncharted.

Leah nudged me as we gathered our trays. “You okay?”

I forced a grin. “Yeah. Just… lunchroom paranoia.”

Felix’s hand brushed mine as we walked out. I ignored the shiver that followed.

Nathan wasn’t just a rival alpha’s son. He was something else. Something dangerous. Something that mattered.

And I wasn’t sure I could resist it.