December's Moon

12| AURORA

| AURORA |

Aurora paced down one of the aisles in the library, running her fingers over the dusty spines of the old books. Now that December had left, she was finally alone.

Finding him here was a surprise, but it had worked with her plot regardless. She hadn't been planning to be so direct with the way she came on to him, but December liked to move quickly with everything. Direct worked well with him.

A lump hung in her throat as she paused in front of the books, something Luca said going through her mind.

That's cruel.

It wasn't cruel, though, was it? It was just a part of the game, after all. The game they'd all been forced to play. Something inside her hurt as she thought that, though. She wasn't really trying to hurt December, just distract him, right?

Right?

She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes fixed on the red spine of the book in front of her. In faded gold print it read "Dream Interpretation."

As much as she tried to deny it, sitting there with December had felt good. The physical contact, the way he smiled at her and pulled her in towards him. It tugged at her heart to be so close with him. She hadn't been lying when she told him the winter they spent together was the best part of her life. She was drawn to him, and a part of her wanted to let him in closer.

She frowned, continuing her walk through the aisle of books. She couldn't do that, though. December was the enemy—the competition. She had to keep her emotions in check.

Aurora finally reached the end of the aisle labeled "mysticism" and turned to the next—the aisle she was looking for: Myths and Legends.

The conversation she'd had with December yesterday had been weighing on her mind during class all day. She'd barely been able to focus, which was unusual for Aurora. Something about what December had said about enemies that could take away the ability to shift seemed familiar, like it'd been mentioned in passing during class one semester.

She scanned the books in front of her, her eyes dancing over the green, blue and red spines until finally one stood out. "Werewolves and Other Ancient Shifters." The book was a deep black leather with the title melted into it and dyed in red.

She pulled the book out of the row, a small plume of dust bellowing out around it. The warm, musky sent of earth and old paper filled her nose as she opened it to the table of contents. The paper was thick and gritty beneath the pad of her thumb. She took a seat on the floor, with the book in her lap.

Ever since she was a child, Aurora had loved reading. It had been an escape for her. So much of Aurora's childhood was spent within the pages of stories. The smell of the old, yellowed pages was home for her. It was a comfort.

Aurora remembered when she was seven, when she first started to understand what being born on December's Moon meant for her—when she learned about the tournament she would compete in once she came of age.

When the last day of first grade was over and summer began, Aurora rushed to the central pack library. She stood on her tiptoes in front of the desk and begged the librarian for any information she might have about upcoming summer camps for young werewolves.

"Of course, Aurora." Miss Jenkins smiled and dug around in her desk for a moment before retrieving a small stack of pamphlets and fliers. 

Aurora accepted them with a grin, and then she set up her station on the blue carpeted at the back of the children's section. She spread the pamphlets out on the floor and lay down on her stomach in front of them, searching for any classes in fighting or shifting for young werewolves. If she was going to beat the two boys she'd heard so much about, she needed to start training immediately. There wasn't a day to waste.