Chapter 88

Ava

I awoke to the sensation of the cool morning breeze hitting my bare skin, sending ripples of goosebumps in its wake. For a moment, I just laid there, letting myself bask in the afterglow of last night as I woke up.

I let my eyes stay shut, picturing Chris’s wide body moving over me again, his lips trailing fire along my collar bones and his limbs tangling with mine. We went at it for the better part of the night last night, only taking breaks for water and fresh air before we found ourselves unable to keep our hands off of one another again.

Although now, in the early morning light, part of me did wish that I had gotten a bit more sleep.

Shivering, I finally sat up, quickly gathering my blanket to cover my bare breasts. Chris was not in bed with me, and I wondered if he had slipped back to the Packhouse in the middle of the night so as not to raise suspicions.

“Chris?” I called out, not really expecting him to answer.

“Down here!”

Furrowing my brow, I climbed out of bed and grabbed my robe, slipping it on as I made my way down the stairs. I half expected him to be making breakfast in the kitchen in his pajamas, but when I found him, he was standing by the door fully dressed with a paper bag clutched in his hand and a tray containing two cardboard coffee cups in the other.

“Shit, I thought you’d be dressed by now,” he said, checking his watch. “We’ve gotta run.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Why?”

“Have you forgotten, sleepyhead?” Chris laughed, firmly pressing one of the coffee cups into my hand. “We have to catch the ferry in twenty minutes!”

…

Exactly twenty minutes later, the two of us were boarding the ferry to the human continent with bags packed for the weekend and half-eaten breakfast sandwiches in hand. I curled my fingers tighter around my coffee cup, thankful for the caffeine. Last night's escapades had left my mind a pile of exhausted mush, it seemed.

“Good to see you, Alpha Chris,” the ferryman said as he took our tickets and allowed us to board. “Just in time, too.”

“Yes, sorry,” Chris said with a laugh. “Late start.”

The ferryman nodded, glancing over at me. “I see. Special business on the human continent, or…?”

His voice trailed off, but I could sense the implications. I felt myself bristle, and quickly busied myself with sipping my coffee and looking out over the ocean instead. Chris could handle this one, I figured. He was the one who insisted on taking me to the human continent for a little vacation this weekend, after all.

“Business meetings,” Chris replied easily with a wave of his hand. “You know how it is. A man never gets a day off.”

“I’ll say,” the ferryman said with a laugh. “It’s very nice that the Acting Luna is going with you.”

“Yes,” Chris said quickly. “Ava is my right-hand woman. I can barely make any decisions without her.”

“You know what they say,” I added, lifting my coffee cup a bit with a wry smile. “A woman never gets a day off.”

The ferryman chuckled heartily, then gestured for us to make our way to the deck. Once we found a good seat overlooking the ocean, we tucked our bags down beneath the benches and sidled up next to each other.

Still cradling my coffee in one hand, I shot Chris a withering glare.

“We should be more careful, you know,” I whispered, taking care to keep my voice low and mild.

Chris glanced at me, his mouth already full from another bite of his sandwich—clearly he needed the calories after last night. Just the thought of it made me blush, and I sipped at my coffee again in the hopes that the cup would hide it.

“It’ll be fine, Ava,” he assured me. “You worry too much.”

“Do I?” I scrunched my nose up at him. “I think I worry just enough.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You seem to like me despite that,” I teased.

Chris chuckled, taking a sip of his own coffee as he balled up the paper wrapper of his finished sandwich and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Then, glancing over both shoulders, he reached over and slipped his hand over mine.

I almost flinched at the intimate touch, but managed to rein in my reaction. Instead, I simply looked over at him and shot him an incredulous look.

Before I could speak, though, he shook his head and tightened his warm grip on my hand. “Just because the Elders don’t want us to be together doesn’t mean that I have to act like I hate you in public,” he murmured. “No one’s looking. Let’s just have this moment, and…”

He went silent then, his eyes widening fractionally as they slid past me—out toward the water. Then, with a shaking hand, he pointed.

“Look!” he hissed.

Furrowing my brow, I followed his gaze and saw exactly what he had seen—off in the distance, far along the horizon, was a great, hulking mass of dark grays and bioluminescent greens and blues.

I shot to my feet, my mouth falling open. My breakfast sandwich, immediately forgotten, tumbled onto the floor.

“A lunar whale,” I breathed. “I… I can’t…”

“Don’t tell me this is some kind of sign,” Chris murmured from behind me. “Don’t tell me—”

“It’s not.” I looked over at him, beaming from ear to ear, and felt my smile widen even more when I saw the awestruck look in his green eyes. “It’s just… beautiful.”

Chris let out a breath and leaned over the edge of the boat, gripping the railing tightly. I followed suit, the wind catching a few loose strands of my curly hair as the boat began to move away from the shore.

Off in the distance, the whale’s form slowly faded—but not before letting out a puff of air, sending a stream of water up into the sky.

Chris’s hand slipped into the sleeve of my jacket then, and I felt his warm fingers wrap around my hand and give them a squeeze. This time, I didn’t pull away.

For the remainder of the ferry ride to the human continent, I couldn’t get the image of the lunar whale’s vibrant colors out of my mind—nor could I seem to manage to blot out the image of Chris’s smile, either. That childlike awe in his eyes, the way that his tousled locks had whipped in the breeze as he leaned over the boat’s railing, trying to catch another glimpse of the whale long after it had disappeared.

It was nearly noon by the time we docked, and I was aching for our hotel room. We stepped off the ferry, bags in hand and our cheeks rosy from the excitement of what we had seen, although I felt a sigh of relief escape my lips when I felt firm ground beneath my feet again.

“Tired already?” Chris asked as he hailed us a cab. “Our weekend has only just begun.”

I managed a smile and shook my head. “I’m alright. Although, maybe if someone didn’t keep me up all night…”

“Hey, get used to it,” he said, shamelessly snaking his arm around my waist. “With you around, I can’t control myself.”