The Hunter's Moon (The Secret Warrior Series) by Beth Trissel

head, his was bare. Stray lengths of black hair brushed his cheeks. In many ways, he seemed older than seventeen. Having to shoulder such responsibility, coupled with the great expectations placed on him regarding the prophecy, must’ve forced him to mature earlier.
    She’d also had to grow up faster than intended. Did she seem older, too? She surely felt ages beyond her years.
    “Jackson. This is a little off the subject, but, do you think, maybe, we—” She hesitated, her voice a breathy whisper.
    He turned his head, brows arched, and his eyes searching hers. “Yes?”
    She took the plunge. “Have we any chance to be together?”
    “You mean, as a couple?”
    Fiddling with the scarf at her neck, she nodded. “Yes.”
    His lips twitched. “Are you asking me out, Morgan?”
    “I think this is as out as we’re gonna get.”
    “You mean, up .” He grinned. “There’s a pickup truck at the lodge. I could take you for ice cream.”
    Her cheeks heated. “That would be super.”
    “The best date of your life. Uncle Ray sells some at his hardware store. And hotdogs.”
    “The uncle who was banished for breaking Wapicoli law?”
    “That’s him. He’d be tickled to meet you.”
    “Sure. But seriously, about us…” she trailed off, suddenly feeling shy. Jackson wasn’t making this easy for her.
    Humor faded and he grew earnest. “We can overcome anything, if we want to badly enough.”
    “I do. But—what of the prophecy?”
    He was pensive. “I do not know all that is said of us. Okema has not yet told me.”
    “Nor me. But we’re to be enemies,” she reminded him, as if he could forget that part of the curse.
    “Yet, here we are. And Okema gave you his blessing. Unheard of.”
    Realization dawned. “That’s what his laying his hand on my head meant?”
    Jackson looked at her as if she’d missed the obvious, but didn’t say, ‘duh,’ as Hawthorne or Jimmy might. “Yes. In turn, you have sworn to fight for our people. Your people, now.”
    “Perhaps, the prophecy says I will change?” Doubt nagged at her. “The ice queen hates you. How can Okema alter that?”
    “He called you to these ridges. Our meeting before your first transformation has bonded us and given you an advantage.”
    “I pray so. But she’s strong.”
    “Then you must be stronger still. What do you fear?”
    “That she will kill you.”
    “No.” He circled one hand at her cheek, her skin tingling beneath his touch. “Your wolf has much power, but not greater than mine. Do you not understand, I am to be all that Okema is? You cannot top that.”
    She opened her mouth, hesitated, and made another attempt. “I’m trying to wrap my mind around it. You’re still you, right?”
    “Of course. But I’m more than you know.”
    “All right, then. Will you come and go as he does?”
    “Perhaps.” A smile flitted across Jackson’s face. “I am swift now.”
    “Not invisible.”
    “Yet,” he amended.
    “Or immortal,” she added.
    “True. I can be felled, though not by your bite. I’m immune to the venom.”
    “You can still get ripped up by my teeth and claws.”
    “I rapidly heal from injury, as will you after you change. It’s in our blood.”
    “Oh. I forgot.” Even armed with this knowledge, doubts still assailed her.
    “Morgan, it’s true you possess more power than any other Morcant woman, but I’m the sum of Okema and the Star People.”
    “That’s freaking awesome,” she conceded. “Okay, you can withstand me, but what of the others? Somehow, I must beat the ice queen back.”
    “You cannot beat her back. The wolf is part of you. Draw strength from her, but never allow her to prevail. Learn to dwell together. This is your challenge, and your gift.”
    “You speak with such conviction. I have not yet been tested.”
    “It’s said, the finest steel must first go through the fire. I’m not telling you the change will be easy. But I believe in you, Morgan. Let go of your fear.”
    Frustration