It Took a Moon or Two (A Werewolf Love Story)

Ch.1: New Moon

Ferris' POV

It started off as any normal day. At least, that's what I thought when I woke up that morning.

My name's Ferris. Yes, like that big wheel at the amusement parks. Yes, I am a werewolf. No, it's not weird. We try and keep it hush-hush from the humans, but the truth is, we are a major percentage of the population you see in your daily lives. There are packs of us throughout the world. In our region here, we have at least ten within two-hundred kilometers. We've been given a bad reputation through folklores and fairy tales. The whole full moon thing is bullshit, to start with. We didn't kill humans for fun, and we weren't all about dark magic like the vampires.

We're pretty much the same as everyone. Consider us like a mafia family, but with none of the illegal business (if we could avoid it). Our family runs our businesses, and our business is our family.

Are you following along?

My father took over what my ancestors began and transformed it to what it is today. His name is Griffin, Griffin Grey. He's a pureblood descendant from a line of wolves thousands of years old. For those reasons, and probably more, he's respected by others. Which means, our family is rather well off. Okay, we're rich. But don't make a big deal out of it.

There's only one thing that comes from wealthy traditional wolf families: big parties for traditional milestones.

Today was no exception.

On the immediate grounds around my family's home were at least thirty other families that comprised the inner business. These were dad's trusted confidantes. He worked with half of them directly, the others remotely. There were more of us beyond the main grounds too. The entire family gathered for a lot of our traditional ceremonies. Most of them would be showing up today to attend my coming-of-age ceremony, which I knew was bound to be humiliating. And the shitty part about being the big, fancy alpha's daughter is that he invites other big fancy alphas to come too.

The place was loaded.

Did I mention I had terrible stage fright?

There are going to be hundreds of pairs of eyes focused on me while I try and walk in a dress and some shoes with "some semblance of a heel, please, Ferris" - and that's a direct quote from Molly Grey.

Speak of the devil herself, here she was. A vertically challenged woman much like me, with wide shoulders and narrow hips. She was built like a gymnast too short to fly over the vault. My mother was a shapeshifter who made whatever style she chose that day work. Side by side, we'd be twins. But unlike our freckles and curls, I didn't share her body type.

I was, proudly, two inches taller than her. Not so proudly, more than a few inches wider than her in every department. At least I had an ass. I could always rub that smugly in her face when she made a comment about my choice of shoe wear.

'Thicker than a snicker,' my best friend Chelsea liked to say.

"Ferris? Ferris!"

Ah, right on time.

Mom barreled down the hallway with the big, white binder of information that she trained around like a clutch purse. Her party-planning assistant flanked her right and her two closest she-wolf friends weren't far off from her with their heads pressed together in conversation.

"Thank the gods we've found you!" mother exclaimed. "The guests are beginning to arrive, and I need you front and center, ready in ten. It's improper to have the host missing from her own event! We need to show them the best hospitality we can!" She recited a few rapid-fire details to Elaine who jotted down in her flip pad that she balanced between two flower bouquets missing 'baby's breath, can you believe it?' - another quote from Molly Grey that will be inherited by our future generations.