Fractures in the Bond
720 Words
The night was heavy with silence. The firepit had burned low, and most wolves had gone to their dens. Only a faint wind whispered through the trees when Anya finally gathered the courage to approach Kane’s quarters.
Mira caught her by the wrist. “Are you sure? He hasn’t exactly been welcoming.”
Anya’s eyes shone with quiet determination. “Then I’ll make him hear me. I won’t be Luna in silence.”
She slipped free of Mira’s grip and knocked on the heavy wooden door.
It opened after a pause. Kane stood there, shirt loose, hair damp from training. His gaze hardened slightly when he saw her.
“Anya. It’s late.”
“I know. But we need to talk.”
He studied her, then stepped aside. “Come in.”
---
Inside, the room was sparse—maps spread on a long table, weapons mounted on the wall. Anya stood in the middle, feeling small but refusing to shrink.
“You’ve avoided me since the ceremony,” she began. “Why?”
Kane’s jaw worked. “Avoided is a strong word.”
“You barely look at me. You don’t speak to me unless others are around. I need to know what this bond means to you.”
Kane’s eyes flashed with conflict. He poured himself water, his back to her. “The bond is fate. But fate doesn’t guarantee suitability.”
Her chest tightened. “Suitability? You think I’m unfit?”
“I think you’re… kind,” he said carefully. “Too kind. A Luna must be steel, not silk.”
Her voice sharpened. “You mistake kindness for weakness. Do you think compassion cannot rule?”
He turned then, eyes hard. “Compassion doesn’t hold territory. Compassion doesn’t keep warriors alive. A Luna must have teeth, Anya.”
“And you think I don’t?”
His silence was answer enough.
---
She stepped closer, her voice trembling with anger. “All my life I’ve given to this pack. I’ve healed wounds, comforted the grieving, stood with those who had no one else. Do you think that takes no strength?”
Kane’s expression softened briefly, but he forced it away. “It’s not the strength this pack needs.”
Her breath caught like a blade in her chest. “Then what do you need, Kane? A Luna who terrifies her people? Who rules with fear?”
He didn’t answer. He just looked at her, and that silence hurt more than words.
Finally, she whispered, “You don’t want me, do you?”
Kane’s hands clenched at his sides. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what’s best for the pack.”
---
The words sank like stones in her heart. She straightened her spine, blinking back tears. “If you think my heart is weakness, then you don’t know me at all.”
For a moment, his mask cracked. Regret flickered in his eyes. But he turned away. “Go back, Anya. Get some rest.”
Her lips trembled, but her voice was steady. “One day, Kane, you’ll regret underestimating me.”
And she walked out before the tears could fall.
---
Outside, Mira was waiting, leaning against a wall with arms folded. She took one look at Anya’s face and sighed. “That bad?”
Anya nodded wordlessly, wiping at her eyes.
Mira slipped an arm around her shoulders. “He’s blind, that’s all. You’ll show him.”
Anya’s voice was quiet but sharp with resolve. “If he cannot see my worth, I’ll make him. Or… I’ll find a place where I don’t have to.”
Mira’s eyes widened. “Anya—don’t say that. You’re Luna. This is your pack.”
Anya stared into the night sky, the moon casting silver light over her face. “Then why do I feel like a stranger here?”
Mira tightened her arm around her. “Because he hasn’t opened his heart yet. But you… you already have. That’s your power, Anya. Don’t forget it.”
Anya nodded, though her chest ached. For the first time, a seed of doubt lodged in her heart—not just about Kane, but about the bond itself.
And far in the shadows, unseen, Lyra lingered at the edge of the courtyard, a faint smirk curving her lips.
- Writer
