Luna's Lost Daughter

Chapter 14 - Skin Deep

It had been three weeks on the island. Elena had been steadily regaining strength—practicing yoga with Mira, learning herbal medicine with Nessa—but today, something in her felt… off.

She pressed a hand to her chest.

Her pulse was fast. Her skin too tight. Too warm. Too alive. Something distant and feral was scratching at her ribs, like a sound just beyond hearing—an anxious, animal whine that didn’t belong to any part of her she understood.

She tried to shake it off. Breathe. Focus. The day had a rhythm now, a comfort. She clung to that.

The apothecary cottage greeted her with its usual calm. Nessa stood at the workbench, hands already stained green with crushed herbs. The air was thick with rosemary, lemon balm, nettle, and sea salt—scents that usually soothed her.

Not today.

Elena moved carefully, deliberately, but her fingers felt jittery. Her limbs too tight. Her skin prickled like something unseen was watching her from behind.

“Grind this lavender down smooth,” Nessa said gently, handing her the mortar and pestle. “We’ll infuse it into oil.”

Elena nodded, but as she worked, her grip faltered. The pestle clanged against the edge of the bowl. A tincture bottle teetered—then toppled.

Glass shattered on the floor in a burst of clove and myrrh.

The scent hit her hard. Her breath hitched. Heat climbed her throat, nausea rising fast.

“Elena?” Nessa’s voice was calm, but closer now. “Breathe… in and out.”

But Elena couldn’t. Her lungs felt tight, sticky. Her eyes stung. She crouched to clean up, but her hands trembled too much. Shame burned hotter than the nausea.

She fled out the back door. The bottom half was still latched, so she leaned over it and vomited into the shrubs, coughing and spitting until her stomach was empty and her eyes overflowed. She wiped at her mouth, tears hot and unwelcome.

Nessa appeared beside her, warm hand on her back and a soft hankie in the other.

“Let’s call it a day here,” she said. “Come on, I’ll make you some ginger tea. Then you’re going to rest.”

They walked in silence. Once Nessa was satisfied Elena was curled in the faded pink armchair in the lighthouse, tea in hand, she left to clean up the mess in her cottage.

Elena sat quietly, watching steam curl from the mug. Twenty minutes later, her stomach had settled. She told herself it must’ve been something bad in her system. That was all.

Mira arrived through the back door, cutting into a loaf of bread without realizing anyone was there.

“Hey,” Elena said softly.

Mira jumped, then grinned. “Oh! Hey, girl. You done early with Nessa?”

Elena nodded without explanation.

“Cool. I was just thinking—let’s grab some sandwiches and hit the beach early today. You up for yoga?”

“Sounds good,” Elena said, eager to feel normal again.

But as they made their way down the grassy trail to the shore, unease curled back into her belly. Not again.

Mira led her through their usual sequence—gentle, grounding. The ocean whispered nearby. Sunlight warmed her skin. Mira’s voice was low, patient.

Then Mira placed a guiding hand on Elena’s spine to correct her posture—and Elena jolted like she’d been touched by a live wire. Her skin buzzed with hypersensitivity, not fear exactly… something older, deeper.

Her breath stuttered. Cold sweat tickled her brow.

Mira drew her hand back gently. “You okay?”

Elena forced a nod but looked away. “It feels like… my body’s betraying me.”

Mira crouched beside her, thoughtful. “It’s not betrayal. It’s instinct. Healing doesn’t always feel safe—it feels wild.”

Elena wasn’t so sure. Her reflection that morning had looked strange. Foreign. Her own breath had started to feel unfamiliar.

She got through the session, clumsy and frustrated. Mira, sensing her mood, didn’t push for conversation as they walked back up in silence.

---

That afternoon, the boat arrived.

Elena spotted it from the lighthouse window, towel still wrapped around her hair after a long, hot soak. Relief bloomed in her chest at the sight of Ethan and Kai. She quickly dressed, eager to see them again. Maybe that would help settle her.

But as she reached the back door, she froze.

They were already turning toward Nessa’s cottage. The door closed behind them.

“Oh,” she mumbled, pausing in place. Her excitement curled into disappointment. She turned away, heart sinking.

—

Mira had intercepted the men just off the trail.

“Afternoon, gents,” she said before they could speak. “Nessa wants a private word first. In the cottage.”

Kai could hardly hide is irritation at the diversion from Elena. He could feel her—closer than she’d been in days. The bond stirred like an ache in his ribs, sharp with yearning.

But he followed Mira.

Inside the herbal kitchen, the four of them gathered around the workbench. Kai’s arms were folded, tension already simmering behind his eyes.

Nessa didn’t waste time. “Elena’s wolf is trying to emerge. And it’s hurting her.”

Ethan frowned. “What are you suggesting?”

Mira stepped in. “We need to tell her the truth. Soon.”

“I thought we had more time,” Kai said, his voice low. “She’s still healing.”

Nessa met his gaze. “The drugs in her system had kept her wolf sedated. Now that she’s detoxing, it’s fighting to surface. And she doesn’t understand what’s happening.”

“She’s blaming herself,” Mira added, arms crossed. “Reading it as weakness. As failure.”

Nessa gave them both a hard look. “If we keep her in the dark, we risk doing as much damage as those who broke her.”

Silence fell.

Ethan slammed a fist against the table. “Then we tell her.”

Kai closed his eyes, jaw tight, trying to think. “There’s so much going on… I just wanted to give her peace. Ease her into it.”

“Don’t underestimate our girl,” Mira said. “She can take it.”

“She’s right,” Nessa said, resting a hand on Mira’s shoulder. “Elena deserves the truth.”

Ethan’s voice softened. “Is she well enough to see us?”

“Yes,” Nessa said, moving toward the door. “It might do her good.”

As the men moved to follow, Mira stopped them with a look sharp enough to halt a charging bear.

“Take it slow,” she warned. “She’s had a hard day.”

Kai, Alpha of the Crescent Pack, met the small woman’s fierce gaze—and said nothing. He nodded once, humbled. Pride and gratitude stirred in his chest. These women had protected Elena—nurtured her, guarded her—even from the truths she didn’t yet know.

And now, it was time.

Kai lingered at the threshold of the lighthouse one hand on the cottage door. Just beyond, his mate—unaware, unraveling. He wasn’t sure if stepping inside would save her… or shatter the fragile ground she’d only just begun to stand on.