I watch as his eyes change shades, deep black, which hold no light compared to the green forest ones that mesmerize my soul. His lips are curved outward into a solemn frown. His jaw is set, his veins prominent.
"Repeat what you said." His hands are all over the place. He keeps them hidden in his pockets, then on his thighs, clenched into fists.
"I don't want to be a Luna anymore." Even as I say the words, my heart aches with yearning, and my lips tremble. It's satisfying to see him, the Alpha, with his hands on his knees, standing before me completely hopeless. Perhaps not as hopeless as I think he is, but the twitching of his eyebrows every few seconds seems to confirm my suspicion.
