Artemisia

“The moon is stolen.”

“Stolen?” How was that even possible?

I thought the moon was a stationary object which couldn't move. Maybe my knowledge of geography was rusty. But hearing this right now says otherwise.

And with the look on everyone's faces, it seemed like that was the case.

“Darling, you don't need to worry your pretty head about this.” Laurent grinned.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, then concentrated on what Mila was saying.

“The moon has been stolen, and the goddess isn't answering us. We werewolves, we are on the receiving end since, without the moon, we are nothing. Our wolf's form refused to come out, and we are...