The Alpha's Shadow Luna

Chapter 8

Anton sighed and released his grip on my shoulders. “I should’ve seen it coming. Shane’s always been hungry. That’s how he moved up so fast in the old pack.” The old pack … this was a small pack that ended up merging with ours. They lost their alpha and didn’t have a replacement. It took a special bloodline to be the alpha. It couldn’t go to just anyone. A pack needed a leader. So we took them in and they became part of our pack. I watched Anton as he stalked back to the wall, kicked at it, then spun around again. “He’s got no loyalty. Not to you, and probably not to me. He’s out.”

“I think he is loyal to you. He’s also the best fighter you’ve got, Anton. I’ve watched him take down three wolves twice his size. If you kick him out, you’re going to have a hole you can’t fill.”

He made a sound, part snort, part growl. “So what? I’m supposed to just let him get away with it because he can win a fight?” He glared, but the heat wasn’t for me. “It’s not about strength. It’s about trust.” He spat the last word, like he couldn’t believe it had ever been in question.

The firelight caught in the sweat at his hairline, outlining every sharp angle of his face. For a moment, I was a little girl again, watching him pace before our mother’s casket, vowing to never let anything bad happen to me or Mary. I wanted to tell him that he’d done his best, that some things just break on their own. But I didn’t want to be coddled, not now. Not ever again.

He stopped pacing, hands on his hips, chin down. “I don’t know what to do with you, Leah,” he said. The words were soft and it put me on alert. “You always act like you don’t matter, but you’re the one holding all the pieces together.”

I felt my chest constrict as my nose burned. He noticed … I didn’t think anyone really noticed how I faded into the shadows.

He turned, almost smiling. “You are caring, kind, brave, and strong. Shane is an i***t. Mary has nothing on you.”

I gave him a look. “She’s more polished than I am. She takes care of herself—”

“At the expense of others. She has turned into a manipulative and selfish wolf. I failed her. When we lost our parents, we over-coddled her. It’s time to fix it.”

His phone chimed with a message, and he grunted. “There is something I wanted to talk to you about but the timing right now–”

“Tell me.””

“It’s about the Northwind Pack. The man who was just here is the alpha’s advisor, Darien Ravencrest. They’re trying to revive the old structure. Less of a free-for-all, more of a traditional hierarchy. They want help from us, since we use the old hierarchy. People who know how a real pack should run.” He sighed. “I need to send someone who won’t tarnish our pack’s name, but—"

“I’ll go.”

He hesitated, then said, “You’re the only one who can do it, Leah. You’re patient, smart, and you don’t scare easily. If they’re serious about restructuring, they need someone like you. Someone who won’t let it all fall apart when things get ugly. But—”

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It wasn’t a punishment or a pity assignment. It was a way out, a new beginning, somewhere where nobody would know me as the girl who got dumped for her own sister.

I sat up straighter. “I want to go.” This was the fresh start I needed, and I had to take it.

He looked at me for a long time, searching my face for cracks. “It could be a year, Leah. More, if the place is as bad as I’ve heard. Winters up there are brutal, and the only supplies you get are what you hunt or haul in on your back. They picked a remote area for the pack, and—”

“I know,” I said.

He dragged his fingers through his hair, then let out a long, shuddering breath. “You amaze me sometimes. You know that?”

I almost laughed, but the pride in his voice stopped me. “Don’t make a thing of it,” I said. “I just want to see what I’m made of.”

He nodded, his eyes shining a little too wet in the firelight. “You’re precious to me, Leah. Always have been. I’ve depended on you too much.”

I reached across and grabbed his hand, squeezing it until he squeezed back.

“You can always depend on me, Anton,” I said. “Always.”

Anton pulled me into another bone-crushing hug as soon as the last word was out of my mouth.

He let go first, but kept his hands on my arms. “What are we going to do about Mary?” he said, a bitter smile cutting across his face. “Our sister needs to be taught a lesson.”

I looked down at his hands, pale scars crossing the knuckles. “I don’t know what happened to her. I used to think she was just … petty. But there’s something mean in her, too.”

He nodded grimly. “You don’t know the half of it. I’ve caught her pulling s**t that would make a vulture gag. She’ll act sweet as pie to your face, then tear you to shreds when you’re out of earshot. I first realized it when I caught her near the furnace. She had locked … Bun Bun in there, to suffer.”

I gasped. Bun Bun was my pet rabbit. My brother told me he got out of the cage and ran away.

“Why would she have done that?” I flinched and then looked at my brother. “Why haven’t you done anything?”

He shrugged, shoulders sagging for the first time all night. “She’s family. I kept hoping she’d grow out of it, that she was just acting out because of our parents' deaths, or that I’d be able to talk some sense into her. And I always figured, as long as she kept it inside the family, it didn’t really matter. But now …” He shook his head. “She’s not safe for anyone. Not even herself.”

“Maybe now that she has Shane, she’ll chill out,” I said, even though I knew better. “She always needed to win. Maybe now that she has the prize, she’ll finally let up.”

He looked at me sideways, skeptical. “You really believe that?”

I shrugged. “No. But I’d like to.”

He made a sound, almost a laugh, but not quite. “You always were the optimist. Even after everything.”

I looked at the fire, thinking about Mary, about Shane, about the way people could warp themselves around what they want and never even notice the damage they leave behind. Maybe I’d done that, too, in my own quiet way. Maybe we all had.

Anton ran a hand down his face, rubbing the dark circles beneath his eyes. “I’ll let Mr. Ravencrest know you’re coming,” he said, switching gears. “He will want to assess you first. Make sure you can make it in the North.”

I nodded. “He said he would be back tomorrow morning. I’ll pack tonight so I’m ready.”

He pulled his phone from his pocket, already typing as he spoke. “You’ll need to pack warm clothes. It’s cold up there, even in summer.”

My own phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. “I’m ready for a change, Anton. I need this, for me.”

He smiled, something softer this time. “I know.” He set a hand on top of my head, almost like a benediction. “I’m proud of you, Leah.”

A part of me wanted to cry at that, but I just smiled back. “Let’s not get sentimental.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can be vulnerable with me.”

I smiled at him before I walked out of his study, the door clicking softly behind me.

I went to my room, flipped on the lights, and pulled a canvas duffel from my closet. Something easy to carry. I packed methodically: socks, thermals, sweaters, my hunting knife, the tattered paperback I’d read fifty times. I hesitated before dropping the pendant in. At the last second, I wrapped it in a scarf and tucked it deep into the side pocket.

I zipped the bag, then sat on the edge of the bed, letting the silence fill up the cracks in me. I checked my phone and saw there was a message from Shane.

“If I embarrassed you today, I didn’t mean to.”

I snorted. No apology, just IF he embarrassed me, he didn’t mean to. This message had no purpose. Especially if he was wanting me to break up with him. Maybe he felt really guilty for being shitty? Who knows. I set the phone down and pulled the blankets over me.

For the first time in ages, I felt something close to hope. Not for a miracle, or a clean start, but for the chance to find out who I was when nobody was looking.

I closed my eyes, letting the dark settle over me like a blanket. Tomorrow, everything would change.

And this time, I wouldn’t fade away.