Moon Bounded

Chapter 11 Azerin POV

The sound of my name on her lips froze me in place. I turned slowly, my heart pounding, and saw her standing in the doorway clutching what seemed like a leather bound journal. The warm glow from the cabin's lantern spilled over her, framing her in a halo of gold. Her long hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, catching the light like strands of brown copper. Her eyes, a deep, piercing golden brown, were swollen from tears but still bright, filled with that fierce determination I had always admired. She wore a simple sweater and leggings, but on her, they looked as elegant as a gown. She was beautiful—achingly so—and it only made the weight of what I had done all the heavier.

"Elara," I managed, my voice low and rough from the aftermath of the transition.

She didn't move at first, just stared at me like she was trying to decide if she should slam the door or step closer. Her hand gripped the doorframe, knuckles white, and for a moment, the silence between us was unbearable.

"You're here," she said finally, her voice trembling just enough to make me flinch.

"I shouldn't be." The words tumbled out before I could stop them. I looked down, unable to meet her gaze for long. "I didn't mean to—"

"Stop." Her voice was sharper now, cutting through my fumbling attempt at an explanation. "Don't do that. Don't stand there and act like you didn't come back for a reason."

She stepped out onto the porch, the soft glow of the cabin light catching the tear tracks she hadn't bothered to wipe away. It hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Elara, I—"

"No," she interrupted, her tone firmer this time. "You don't get to do this, Azerin. You don't get to walk away like I don't matter and then show up in the middle of the night like—like you're haunting me."

I couldn't look at her, not when the weight of her words pressed down on me like a thousand stones. My hands trembled at my sides, still caked with the evidence of what I had done in the woods.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," I said quietly, the words tasting like ash.

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound raw and unsteady. "Didn't mean to hurt me? Azerin, you broke me. You left me standing here, trying to figure out what I did wrong, why you wouldn't just—"

Her voice cracked, and she bit down on the rest of the sentence, wrapping her arms around herself as if to hold herself together. The sight of her like this—so strong and yet so fractured—made something inside me snap.

"I left because I had to!" I shouted before I could stop myself, my voice cutting through the night like a blade. "Because if I stayed, I'd ruin you, Elara. You don't know what I am—what I've become."

She stared at me, stunned into silence, and I hated the way her expression softened as if she was seeing past my anger, past the walls I had built.

"Then tell me," she said quietly, taking a step closer. "Let me in, Azerin. Whatever it is you're trying to protect me from, I deserve to know."

I shook my head, backing away from her. "You don't understand. I can't... I can't let you see that part of me."

"Why?" she demanded, her voice breaking. "Because you think I can't handle it? Because you think I'm too weak?"

"No," I whispered, my throat tight. "Because I can't handle what it would mean to lose you."

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the only sound between us was the whisper of the wind through the trees.

"Azerin," she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of all the things she wasn't saying. "You're not going to lose me. Whatever this is—whatever you're fighting—you don't have to do it alone."

I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to believe her. But the wolf stirred in my chest, a dark, restless presence that whispered otherwise.

She can't save you, it growled. She'll only suffer for trying.

"I don't know how to let you in," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

She stepped closer again, her hand reaching out as if to touch me but stopping just short. "Then let me show you how," she said, her gaze steady despite the tears in her eyes.

I stared at her, caught between the pull of her words and the fear that had rooted itself deep in my soul. I didn't deserve her trust, her kindness, or the way she looked at me like I was still worth saving.

But in that moment, standing there in the fractured light between us, I felt something I hadn't in a long time: hope.

And for the first time, I thought maybe—just maybe—I could try.

"Elara," I said, my voice trembling, "I'll tell you everything."