Chapter 1
1675words
I nestled against his chest, my fingertips tracing circles over his heart, feeling each powerful thud—a private rhythm that seemed to beat only for me.
He always radiated a primal, untamed magnetism. His emerald eyes, now soft with afterglow, studied my face with fierce attention. Moonlight spilled through the curtains, casting him in silver that made him look almost otherworldly.
A lone howl pierced the night air from somewhere in the distance, unnervingly clear in the stillness.
"Penny for your thoughts?" His voice came rough with a delicious rasp that vibrated through my chest.
I inched upward, nuzzling his chin with my nose, my tone a blend of playful pout and genuine concern:
"I'm wondering why my husband vanishes completely from my world every time the moon gets full."
Julian went rigid for a heartbeat, his pupils narrowing to pinpoints in the moonlight before he forced himself to relax. Before I could say more, he captured my mouth in a searing kiss.
His kiss was demanding and fierce as always, staking his claim with an intensity that left no room for argument.
Only when my lungs burned for air did he break away, resting his forehead against mine as our ragged breaths mingled.
"Babe, don't be jealous. It's just business."
Once my breathing steadied, Julian took my hand in his—warm, dry palm enveloping mine—his voice dropping to that gentle baritone that always made me melt.
"Ella, I need to head back to my family again."
My heart plummeted. Those words had become a dreaded refrain in our marriage.
"How long this time?" I fought to keep the tremor from my voice.
"Two weeks." His eyes locked with mine, his tone gentle but unyielding. "There are important family traditions I can't miss. It's for our future, Ella. I swear, we're almost through these long separations."
"Two weeks?" My voice pitched higher as anxiety clawed at my chest. "Your 'family business' usually only takes days. Why so long this time?"
Julian's gaze wavered before hardening with resolve. "It's more complicated this time—an inheritance ceremony. I have to be present for the entire ritual. Can't duck out halfway."
His fingers tightened around mine, his voice a gentle steel. "Trust me, Ella. This is building our future. Soon, these separations will be behind us."
Two weeks… longer than he'd ever been gone before. Dread washed over me in waves, but who was I to challenge my husband's obligations?
I nodded, swallowing the rising panic and forcing my lips into a smile. "Okay. I'll be here when you get back."
But the unease gnawed at me like insects burrowing under my skin.
This would be our longest separation since our wedding day.
The day Julian left, the house echoed with emptiness. I clutched his pillow to my chest, breathing in his crisp, masculine scent, but sleep remained stubbornly out of reach.
Morning came with no messages on my phone. Not a single word all night.
Had something happened to him?
I stared at my blank screen, anxiety sprouting like invasive weeds in my chest. Julian had never failed to send a goodnight text before, no matter how busy. This silence was deafening.
I waited until moonrise, my patience finally snapping. With trembling fingers, I tapped his profile picture and initiated a video call.
One ring was all I got before the call was abruptly terminated.
Seconds later, a terse message appeared.
Julian: "Family protocol. No calls or video during ceremonies. You know this."
I stared at his words, my heart clenched in an icy grip.
"I was worried about you."
The phone stayed silent. Minutes crawled by as I watched for the "typing" bubble to appear.
Just as despair settled in, my screen lit up.
"K."
I clutched the pillow tighter, tears stinging my eyes. One letter. Not even a full word. Was this the same man who once filled pages with poetry after catching me glance his way?
Outside, the moon swelled toward fullness, its cold light flooding the room but failing to penetrate the darkness growing inside me.
Two weeks later, the front door lock clicked softly.
I bolted from the couch, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood as I rushed to the door.
Julian stood in the doorway, road-weary but vibrating with strange new energy. He dropped his bags and swept me into his arms in one fluid motion.
His embrace was crushing, almost desperate. His usual clean scent had intensified, now mixed with something earthy and wild—like a forest after a thunderstorm.
I buried my face against his neck, drinking in his scent. His skin burned against mine, heat radiating through his thin shirt and setting my pulse racing.
"Missed you, baby," he murmured against my hair, his voice a rough growl.
He released me only to produce a velvet box from his luggage with a flourish. Inside nestled a vintage sapphire necklace, its deep blue creating a striking contrast with his emerald eyes while somehow complementing them perfectly.
"A gift from the family," he said, fastening it around my neck, his fingertips lingering on my collarbone. "Damn, it's like it was made for you."
For my "protection," he presented something else—a silver handgun with an ornate wolf's head on the grip, beside a stylized letter W.
"Keep this in your nightstand. It'll keep you safe when I'm away."
I took it hesitantly, the cold metal unnervingly heavy in my sweating palm.
"Let me show you how it works." He guided my hands with surprising gentleness. "Safety here. Trigger here. Remember—only for real emergencies."
That night, he burned away my fears with hungry kisses and desperate passion.
His desire crashed over me like a tempest, and I surrendered like a small craft in a hurricane.
But such bliss never lasted. It dissolved like morning mist under the harsh sun of reality.
Two weeks later, I heard it again—that hushed phone conversation from his study. I was chopping vegetables when his lowered voice reached me, and my knife froze mid-cut.
When Julian emerged, his face wore that apologetic mask I'd grown to hate.
"Ella…"
"Let me guess. You're leaving." My voice came out eerily calm, surprising even myself.
He nodded, reaching for me, but I stepped back before he could touch me.
Something died in his eyes, his arms hanging awkwardly between us.
This time, my heartache wasn't just empty longing—it was physical pain, like ice needles stabbing every inch of me. What were these mysterious absences really about?
Three days into Julian's absence, his friend Leo showed up at my door clutching an expensive bottle of red.
"That's just how he is, Ella." Leo swirled his wine, flashing that practiced smile. "Family duty runs in his blood. But trust me—he's crazy about you."
I managed a tight smile but kept silent. Leo's words sounded rehearsed, his expression too carefully arranged.
That night, our king-sized bed felt like an empty continent. I watched the ceiling fan's hypnotic rotation, feeling like the sole survivor on a deserted island.
Outside, several long howls shattered the night's silence.
No dog made sounds like that.
The cries were haunting and mournful, carrying an ancient sorrow that penetrated our walls and burrowed into my bones, raising goosebumps across my skin.
I bolted upright, heart hammering against my ribs.
"Jesus Christ—are those wolves?"
My phone grew hot in my clenched hand, but remained stubbornly silent. I wanted to call Julian—video, voice, anything—but my finger froze above his contact. Hadn't he forbidden communication during these times?
As the moon swelled night by night, the howling intensified. I scrolled through old texts from Julian, seeking comfort in past endearments that now rang hollow.
My phone finally buzzed with a message, but by then I'd already surrendered to exhaustion after the endless night.
Another cycle completed: separation, reunion, fleeting happiness.
The third "family emergency" came while I was ironing his favorite white silk shirt. I pressed the steamer over each wrinkle methodically, wishing I could smooth away my doubts as easily.
He embraced me from behind, his chin settling into the crook of my neck, his voice dripping with practiced contrition.
"Just one more time, sweetheart. Wait for me?"
I switched off the iron and turned to face him, meeting his gaze with newfound resolve. This time, I wouldn't swallow my truth.
"Julian," my voice was quiet but firm, "take me with you this time."
His smile vanished like it had been slapped away.
Raw panic flashed across his eyes—so genuine and intense that I almost doubted what I'd seen.
"Absolutely not," he snapped, his voice suddenly parched.
"Why not?" I challenged as my pulse quickened. "I'm your wife. Meeting your family is hardly an unreasonable request."
"My family…" He looked away, his Adam's apple bobbing as beads of sweat formed at his temples. "They don't welcome outsiders."
Outsiders?
The word pierced me like an icicle through the heart. Before our wedding, I'd never met a single relative of his—his family was "traditional," he'd said, "private." But after three years of marriage, I was still an outsider?
I inhaled deeply, forcing down the knot in my throat, and offered one last compromise.
"Fine. I'll stay behind," I said, each word deliberate and clear. "But you will video call me daily. You don't have to speak—I just need to see your face, to know you're okay."
"Ella!"
His voice cracked like a whip, sharp with an authority I'd never heard before. Those emerald eyes that once melted with tenderness now glittered with warning.
"How many times must I explain? My family follows ancient traditions! Visual communication is strictly forbidden during ceremonies! Why can't you understand something so simple?"
I recoiled as if slapped, staring at this stranger wearing my husband's face.
In that moment, the loving mask slipped completely, revealing something cold and alien underneath.
With sickening clarity, I realized I knew nothing about the man who shared my bed, this husband I'd given my heart to.
