When The Moon Rises, I Want You

Chapter 5: Off the Grid

POV : Aria Chen

I woke up to the smell of damp stone and blood.

Not mine. Ryan’s.

My shoulder throbbed where the silver had torn through me, but the ache was duller now. Not gone—silver burns don’t let you off that easy—but bearable enough that I didn’t cry out when I shifted on the cot. The sound of my movement made Ryan’s eyes snap open immediately.

He’d been sitting on the ground beside me, back against the cave wall, jacket off and bandages wrapped tight around his ribs. He looked wrecked. Pale, sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead, exhaustion carved into every line of his face. But he was awake, and the second he saw me moving, his whole posture shifted from guard to panic.

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “You’ll reopen it.”

Kiera was across the cave, kneeling by the wall with a whetstone and a knife. She didn’t look up when I moved. She just kept running the stone down the blade with slow, deliberate strokes. The sound was soft, rhythmic. Comforting, in a grim way. She’d left us alone when it mattered. Smart.

“Where are we?” My voice came out rough, echoing off the rock.

“Safehouse,” Kiera said without stopping. “Old cave off the quarry trail. Pack used it before I was Beta. No windows, soundproof, warded. If the hunter told anyone else, they won’t find us here.”

“Warded?”

“Old witch sigils,” Ryan said. “Stops scrying and dampens scent. Keeps us off the grid.”

Off the grid. That phrase kept circling back.

I sat up slowly, testing the pull in my shoulder. Pain flared, but it was manageable. Ryan shifted forward instantly, close enough that if I swayed, he’d catch me. He didn’t touch me. He was careful like that—like I might shatter if he used too much force. Like he was afraid of what would happen if he didn’t keep his hands to himself.

“The hunter said I’m not on any registry,” I said. “What does that mean?”

Ryan and Kiera exchanged a look I didn’t like.

“It means you’re off the grid,” Ryan said, choosing his words carefully. “Every wolf born in the U.S. gets logged at first shift. Name, pack, bloodline, location. If you shift and no one files, the Council assumes you’re rogue.”

“And rogues get culled,” Kiera finished flatly. She finally looked up, eyes hard. “No questions. No trials. Just removal.”

My stomach dropped. The cave suddenly felt too small, too close.

“So that guy was trying to kill me because I don’t have paperwork?”

“Because you’re a liability,” Kiera said bluntly. “Unclaimed, unregistered, late shift. If the Council finds you first, they’ll kill you to avoid a precedent. If a rival pack finds you first, they’ll try to recruit you or kill you to keep you out of North Ridge’s hands.”

“And if my own pack finds me?” I asked, and I was looking at Ryan when I said it.

He held my gaze, and the air in the cave got heavy.

“Then it depends on what I say you are,” he said.

Kiera snorted, but there was no humor in it. “You’re not Alpha yet, Ryan.”

“No,” he said. “But I’m his son. And I’m not letting them touch her.”

Her.

He said it like it mattered. Like I wasn’t just a problem to contain or a secret to bury. Like I was someone.

The silence that followed was thick. Kiera felt it too—she went back to her knife, giving us space without actually leaving the room.

Ryan knelt beside the cot, close enough that I could see the faint tremor in his hands from the silver graze he’d taken for me. His ribs were still wrapped tight, but he hadn’t complained once. He hadn’t even acknowledged it until now, when he shifted and a flash of pain crossed his face.

“You should be resting,” I said.

“So should you,” he replied.

He reached out, stopped himself halfway, then let his hand fall back to his knee.

“The hunter told someone,” he said quietly, so only I could hear. “I saw movement in the treeline when we left. We have maybe a week before they start looking harder. Until then, you stay here. No training. No leaving. I’ll tell my father I’m recovering from a rogue encounter. That’s true enough.”

“And if they come here?” I asked.

“Then I keep them off you,” he said simply, like it was that easy. Like he could just stand between me and the Council and make it work.

Kiera’s knife paused for half a second.

“You can’t fight the Council, Ryan,” she said.

“I’m not planning to,” he said. “I’m planning to make sure it never comes to that.”

He looked at me again, and something in his expression shifted. The soldier, the heir, the careful boy who measured every word—he was gone. For a second, he was just Ryan. Tired. Scared. Determined.

“I should have been faster,” he said. “I should have seen him before he got a shot off.”

“You saved me,” I said.

“I almost didn’t.”

His thumb brushed against the edge of the cot, inches from my hand. He didn’t take it further. He was always holding himself back around me, like he was afraid of what would happen if he didn’t.

“You’re staring,” I said, trying to break the tension.

“So are you,” he replied, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. Tired, but real.

It hit harder than I expected.

Kiera cleared her throat. “I’m going to dig into Cedar Falls. See what the hunter found. If he tracked you there, there’s a record somewhere. I’ll be back by morning.”

“Be careful,” Ryan said without looking away from me.

“Always am,” she said. Her eyes flicked between us, and she smirked slightly. “Try not to get attached while I’m gone.”

She left through the narrow tunnel that led back to the surface. The rockfall we’d moved to get in scraped shut behind her with a grinding sound that made the whole cave feel sealed.

Silence fell.

It wasn’t awkward. It was heavy, warm, charged in a way that made my skin feel too tight.

“You’re still bleeding,” I said, nodding at his ribs.

“It’s stopped,” he said. “Lying.”

“Ryan—”

“I’m fine,” he cut in. “You’re the one who got shot.”

He shifted closer, resting his elbows on his knees, close enough that I could see the gold in his eyes even in the dim firelight.

“When I saw him aiming at you, I didn’t think,” he said. “I just moved.”

“You could have died,” I said.

“So could you.”

He said it like that settled it. Like my life weighed more than his in his head, and that was that.

I swallowed hard. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you doing this? For me? I’m nothing to you. A stray you found in the woods.”

Ryan’s jaw tightened.

“You’re not a stray,” he said. “You’re not nothing.”

“Then what am I?”

“Dangerous,” he said honestly. “Terrifying. And mine to protect.”

The word mine landed like a punch.

I sat up a little straighter, ignoring the pull in my shoulder. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“No,” he said. “But I get to try.”

He reached out then, slowly, giving me time to pull away. I didn’t. His fingers brushed a strand of hair off my forehead, tucking it behind my ear with a gentleness that didn’t fit the wolf I’d seen fight tonight. His thumb lingered against my temple, just for a second, checking I was real. Checking I was okay.

“Don’t shift again,” he murmured. “Not until I know what triggers it. Not until I know I can keep you safe after.”

“And if you can’t?” I asked.

“Then I’ll figure it out,” he said. “I’m not letting you face this alone.”

The word alone hit me harder than it should have. Two years of hiding, of pretending, of never letting anyone close enough to see what I was. And now he was here, in a cave, bleeding for me, promising things he couldn’t possibly guarantee.

“You don’t even know what I am,” I said.

“No,” he said. “But I know who you are. And that’s enough for me.”

My throat felt tight. I hated how much I wanted to believe him.

“Ryan,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He smiled at that. Small, tired, real. It made the cave feel less cold.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “Wait until we get through the next week.”

He stood, wincing as his ribs pulled, and moved toward the tunnel. He paused at the edge, looking back at me.

“I should go before my father notices I’m gone,” he said. “But I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“I’m not alone,” I said. “You’re here.”

Something shifted in his face. Something careful and dangerous and wanting.

“Not for long,” he said quietly. “But I’ll be back tonight.”

He disappeared into the tunnel, and the rockfall scraped shut behind him.

The cave felt emptier for it.

I lay back on the cot, staring at the ceiling, heart beating too fast for someone who was supposed to be resting. Kiera was right—this was stupid. He was the Alpha’s son. I was an unregistered liability. This couldn’t go anywhere.

But he’d said mine to protect.

And when he’d touched my face, it hadn’t felt like duty.

It had felt like a choice.

Outside, the wind picked up through the trees. Somewhere out there, the hunter’s contact was deciding whether to come for me.

In here, all I could think about was Ryan’s hands, and the way he’d said my name like it mattered.