The Luna He Can’t Get Back

The Awakening

Zane's voice was low but strong, "Focus," pulling her back to him. Though his arms were folded and his posture was easy, he never looked away from her.

Trying to calm the quickening of her heart, Deanna drew a long breath. Her inner fire was alive but barely controlled, erratic. She sensed it growing, pressing against the confines of her awareness, begging to be released. She was afraid of what it could cause.

Zane kept urging her, his voice softening, "Focus on the warmth." Let it rise, as a wave would. Let it be. Let it be, please.

Though she nodded, her hands shook as she lifted them a little. Starting slowly, a gentle burn under her skin, the heat built. She concentrated further and her breath increased to try to regulate the force, feeling the intense burn of the fire curling in her fingertips.

Zane said softly, his voice barely audibles above the intensifying fire inside her.

Still, it wasn't sufficient. Once more, the power surged uncontrollably. Heat radiated from her chest, burning her from the inside out and then,

Zane yelled, "Stop!"

Flames shot from her palms, spiralling in the air before she could respond. Spiralling around her, they were a furious fire ready to consume anything in front of her.

Zane was there in a flash, yanking her arms and dragging her to the ground. Though the fire was still there, sparking and alive between them, his touch was solid, like a lifeline.

Deanna, you must manage it, Zane pleaded, his voice low and frantic.

Breathless, she fell back, her body quaking from the intensity of it all. I regret... I didn't mean to,

Zane's hand touched her cheek. You will discover. This power, however, is not only about control. It's about grasping it. You will.

The fire within her cooled, leaving only a slight warmth remained.

Deanna, though, glanced up at him and understood the truth. Her personal anxiety was not all she was coping with. She was coping with something that would destroy everything she valued.

Though the fire had been put out, Deanna's heart still raced. Zane stood next to her, his presence a constant comfort; yet, her inner anxiety had not gone away.

How do you manage it? she calmly enquired, attempting to calm her breath.

Zane's eyes clouded as he looked away. Knowing your boundaries helps one to and by believing in yourself. But that's not all you should be concerned about.

Deanna frowned, confused. Could you clarify?

Zane continued, his voice sombre, "Tyler's pack isn't the only threat right now." Others include rogue wolves who disregard your bloodline and future. Power matters to them. They also desire it.

The words struck her like a load. She had heard about Tyler's fixation on her, but what about this? It was a different kind of risk.

Deanna sensed it as Zane spoke: a presence in the air, a subtle hum vibrating under her feet. Her instincts howling at her to flee, she looked about.

A wail reverberated from the woods.

Not Tyler's. Something more profound, more sinister.

Zane reached out quickly to draw her nearer to him. Remain near. We are not alone.

Her muscles tightening, she felt a frigid shiver run down her spine. Her thoughts raced: who else existed? What did they need from her?

The wail returned, this time closer. The trees around them trembled, a distant rustling as someone, no, something, shifted in the darkness.

Who is it? Deanna murmured; her voice almost undetectable.

Zane's eyes narrowed as he searched the shadows. Rogue. They are not here by coincidence. "They know just where you are.

Deanna's heart sank. How should we act?

"We wait," Zane said, his voice steady but his eyes showing unmistakable need. We get ready, then.

Her heart raced in her ears, the darkness pressing in, and the pull of her own strength, a perilous force she hardly grasped, tugged at her from inside out.

She was not prepared. Whether she was ready or not, the battle was on its way.

Zane sat on the edge of the camp later that night, back against a tree, gaze fixed on the fire. Deanna came along, her mind a jumbled mix of anxiety and uncertainty. She desired knowledge, desired to understand who she actually was, what she had to become.

Zane, tell me the truth, she said, her voice softer than normal. What is actually happening here, then? Why do they all stare at me as though I'm some sort of,

"Queen?" Zane completed for her, his voice low and consistent. You are thus. You simply don't know it as of now.

His words made her tense up. Your words make me doubt you.

Zane looked at her, his face inscrutable. You will indeed. But you are not quite there yet. You have to acknowledge it.

Deanna replied, more vehemently than she intended. I don't want to be a symbol for all of you to follow.

His gaze softened and he stretched out to brush her hand. It's not about being a symbol. It's about having the strength to defend what is yours.

Her breath shallow, she withdrew her hand. What if I lack the strength? What if instead I set everything ablaze?

Zane's jaw tightened and for a brief moment, his eyes showed a flicker of something more sinister. Then I shall assist you. I will assist you in regulating it. Deanna, you must choose.

Deanna stared at him, her eyes lingering. Which one?

Zane stood, his body tight with something she could not read. Whether you are ready to confront the force within you is up to you. Should you be prepared to join me and the Reavers in support.

Deanna's heart leapt. She wanted to reject it, to pull away, but the draw between them was unrelenting. The link, the one that spanned between them, she felt it as certainly as she felt the fire within her.

Zane's gaze flicked passed her and his demeanour changed to one of stress before she could say anything.

Out of the gloom came a shadow she all too well recognised. Standing in the distance, Tyler's wolf's eyes glowed in the moonlight.

Zane spoke in a low growl. He has returned.

Deanna's stomach sank. The past was not finished with her still.

Deanna stood at the edge of the clearing, the wind rustling through the trees as though it bore the weight of her thoughts. Every pulse was a reminder of the strength that had been lying inside her for so long, thus her heart raced in her chest. The heat that now coursed through her seemed different, stronger, darker, more vibrant.

Zane stood next to h er, his eyes fixed on her face. Though his presence was grounding, something in his stare made her uncomfortable. He'd taught her and led her, but now it seemed as though he was waiting for her to accept the reality, waiting for something more to happen.

Zane whispered "Focus," his voice low yet tinged with eagerness. Accept your inner strength. Give up the battle.

Deanna's hands shook at her sides, the usual heat starting to rise up her arms. She could feel the wolffire, but this time, it wasn't the mild flare she had felt previously. Burning, insistent, pressing at the barricades she had erected around it.

"I don't want this," she said softly, her voice almost inaudible.

Zane retorted, his words cutting yet not cruel, "You have no choice." Deanna, the strength within you belongs to you. You can either let it run your life or you can manage it.

Deanna's breath caught. The dread of losing oneself, of turning into something out of control, seized her chest. She had spent her life trying to escape this power, but now there was no place left to hide.

Before she could stop it, a surge of energy exploded from her palms as the fire within her grew and spread like wildfire through her veins. Roaring to life, the flames twisted in the air devouring everything in their path.

Deanna! Zane yelled, advancing.

Still, she couldn't stop. The flames roared, an inferno threatening to engulf her whole. Though her body shook, the force she could feel was eating her from the inside out. The fire danced like a storm and her hands shone with warmth.

Zane found her in a split second; his hands firmly clutching hers. "Control it!" You are able to accomplish this.

Deanna attempted to breathe and concentrate, but the strength was too great. It surged higher and the flames spread like a tidal wave, sweeping throughout the camp.

She understood something then; this was more than simply a present. It was a misfortune. She could not help it.

Though the fire eventually died, Deanna's body still tensed up. Zane stood in front of her, his hands still grasping hers, his face blank. The Reavers had gathered around the camp, silently observing the aftermath of her show of might. Deanna's heart beat and she could feel the fire in her hands, still faintly blazing with the force she had let go.

"You did it," Zane murmured gently, his voice lacking pride. Just anxiety. But at what expense?

She withdrew her hands and shook them like if the heat was still alive under her skin. Stepping back, she said, "I can't do this," her voice barely above a whisper. I cannot be the person you all wish me to be.

Zane's jaw grew tighter. You need not be ideal. Deanna, you have to control it though. Should you fail to control it, it will ruin you and anyone close to you.

Her eyes flitting about the Reavers' observing faces, she stepped back once again. Some were nodding; others gazed at her warily, their attitudes unclear. Their expectations were pushing down on her, and the burden of it all seemed to destroy her.

But then, from the quiet, a howl cut through the tension. Low, threatening, and clearly recognisable.

Deanna came to a standstill. She was aware of that sound. Her heart missed a beat.

"Tyler," she said, her voice shaking. His was the call of the wolf, one with strength, authority, and possessiveness. Though she wished to battle it, to turn away from him once and for all, something deep inside her fought against it. His hold on her, the connection between them, was not so easily cut off.

Zane's stare became more intense. We have to get ready now. Deanna, the fight is just getting started. Tyler's pack is coming after you.

Deanna gulped hard, the tidal wave of her history crushing down on her. She had believed she could go away, but she couldn't. Not while Tyler's wolf still plagued her thoughts, still rang out in the night.

The future she feared was already at her doorstep. And it wasn't going to go without a fight.