Whispers at Moonrise

seemed to be a mêlée of so many problems and yet so many possibilities. She’d lost Derek, but gained Lucas. She’d lost the bond with her stepdad but found Daniel. She’d lost being human, but was now supernatural.
    And today was the day she was supposed to meet her grandfather and discover just what it all meant, but she doubted that would happen. A frown pulled at her lips and the darker side of her mood tried to take over.
    Not that she’d let it win. She closed her eyes and tried to think positive thoughts. But her mind went to Hannah and the fact that Kylie shouldn’t postpone telling Holiday any longer that her sister was dead. Just thinking about how that conversation would go took another bite out of Kylie’s disposition.
    Then her heart reminded her that Lucas hadn’t shown up last night, despite the fact he’d told her he would. That pretty much made it official. The dark side, the bad mood, had won. Glancing back up at the ceiling, she couldn’t help but notice there were indeed more shadows than sunlight.
    For some crazy reason, she remembered Nana telling her to enjoy her childhood because soon enough she’d be an adult. Was this adulthood? To wake up every day and know it would bring both good and bad? To do things you had to do, even if you wished you didn’t have to do them?
    Then she recalled another piece of Nana’s advice. Just remember, sweetie, sometimes we can’t change what happens, but we can change how we let those things affect us.
    “Easier said than done, Nana.” Kylie inhaled a big gulp of frustration and the sweet smell of roses tickled her senses. Turning her head, she saw the single pink rose on her nightstand. The memory of Lucas having robbed his grandmother’s rose garden and filling Kylie’s room with roses sent her bad mood on time-out. Then, seeing the note beside the rose, she sat up and reached for the slip of paper.
    Kylie,
    Sorry I was late. Something came up and I had to go visit my dad. You were out like a light when I got here. But damn, you are so beautiful when you sleep. If Della hadn’t heard me opening your window and poked her head in and shot me the bird for waking her up—she’s impossible—I would have climbed in bed with you just to feel you next to me.
    You have no idea how much I’d like that. To feel you against me. All of you.
    Sweet dreams,
    Lucas
    Kylie reached for the rose and placed it to her nose. The sweet scent made her smile. Maybe the bad mood wasn’t going to win after all.
    *   *   *
    Kylie reconsidered her positive attitude when a couple of hours later, she batted at the bugs swarming around her as she moved into the woods with Holiday and Burnett. But it wasn’t the bugs causing the deterioration of her good mood. It was one certain dark-haired, blue-eyed werewolf.
    Kylie should have been excited about going to the falls. She always felt better after a visit. But right now, she didn’t want to feel better. She wanted to feel … mad.
    Wait. She didn’t want to feel it, she did feel mad.
    Mad at the rose-leaving, note-writing were.
    She’d completely let go of her aggravation about Lucas not showing up last night. She’d tried to set aside the fact that he’d practically told her he had to keep secrets from her. While she didn’t like it, she’d even accepted that Fredericka, his one-time sex buddy, would always be within touching distance of him, when Kylie wasn’t anywhere close enough to touch him herself. She had worked at overcoming the fact that his grandmother, his father, and even his entire pack, were against their being together.
    She’d done a lot of setting aside, overcoming, and accepting. And after this morning, she realized that it might have been too much—because after not showing up last night, after hardly seeing her yesterday, he’d barely acknowledged her this morning in the cafeteria.
    Another mosquito buzzed past and she swiped at the air, sending the pest headfirst into a tree. Bzzz … splat!
    Couldn’t Lucas have come over and had breakfast with her? She wouldn’t have even blamed him if he’d brought Clara with him. But no, all she’d gotten was a smile, and even that smile had seemed somehow purposefully short. Then he’d joined the were table with all his other friends, his pack—people who clearly came before her now and probably always would.
    Last night, he’d climbed into her bedroom way after midnight while she’d been asleep. He’d left her a rose and a sweet