Author's note: This takes place in the year 1512. The cubs are now a year old and own a quaint little villa in their parents' terrace. Chas remains a prevalent character in their minds, but he also remains physically absent in his siblings' lives. The book title refers to Chas' departure, the 'moon' being him.

Well, I'm another year older and my life still sucks. It can't get any worse, right? Wrong. Not only has Chas not returned yet, but the girls keep nagging me to take them to the 'flea market'. What good will fleas do you when you're a werewolf like the three of us? Trust me, I've had fleas before, and the outcome was not pretty.

Ma had to give me bath, after bath, after dreadful bath because of those stupid little circus freaks. And on top of that, I had to wear a flea collar! Of course, when I Shifted back, it morphed into a pendant with our crest embedded in it. 

Now back onto the topic of Chas. Seeing as he hasn't come back yet, I shall be further forced to take the position of responsible elder brother to Asher and the girls. As I walk up to the house, I cannot help but fumble with my keys. I have a key for everything; one for the cottage, one for my keesake box; I even have one for the big house. In an act of both hurriedness and distraction, I drop my keys and yell 'Shit!'

Summer saunters over and pecks my cheek; though she and I are not dating, it is still a nice gesture. 'What's wrong, big brother?' she says seductively, thought there's hardly a reason for it. I roll my eyes and whisper 'Oh, nothing, ya cutie; just dropping my keys and cursing as always.' She lets out a small titter before going into the house.

I follow her in and the other two regard me with little more than a wave. But then Asher speaks. 'Guess what, Toby? I'm working nights for Dad now.' Now I am infuriated.

'Oh yeah? Well, I end up working nights every fucking time I set foot on the grounds on which my labor is needed. And for what; a boss who doesn't give fuck-all to his employees? You think I like getting paid three dollars a week to lay bricks for some cheap bastard who's hardly, if ever, heard of the word 'break-time'! I get paid three dollars a week, Asher; three fucking dollars a week! So stop being such an asshole and shut your god-damn mouth!'

Without meaning to, I lift my hand and slap Asher harder than he's never been slapped before. This causes Asher to whimper and run to his room, Sage on his tail (no pun; we're all werewolves here, right?) the entire time.

Summer puts her hands on my shoulders and rubs them with expertise. 'You didn't have to slap Asher, you know; the yelling would have sufficed. I guess that's just my opinion, though. Would you like a posset before you go to bed?'

I shrug; I honestly don't know what I want right now. If you thought 'Uh, what the fuck?' when you saw the word 'posset', it's basically what we would think of as a warm nightcap. 'No thanks, Summer. I'd rather just go to bed.' She doesn't understand that I am fucking tired, and when one is tired, they go to sleep. 'What about Asher? Aren't you going to apologize to him?'

Now I'm feeling sorry for Ash; I realize that I have to apologize to him. As I open the bedroom door, my ileum, jejunum, and duodenum (parts of the small intestine) feel like they've tied in one big knot. As I set foot into the bedroom, the knot tighten and I look to the bed. Underneath the covers is a whimpering, crying lump called Asher James Longclaw.

He looks up to see me when my hand runs itself along his arm lovingly. He may have pissed me off, but he's still my brother, no matter what. 'Tobias' he asks 'you ain't still mad, are ya?' I shake my head and whisper 'No; but next time, a suggestion might be to stop acting like you're better than me. Don't you think so, Ash?' He nods, a sign that he agrees with me. After making up, we embrace and all is right with the world.