His Reluctant Luna

Chapter 13: The First Lesson

"You've learned to draw the moon's light," Elena said, "but that is like learning to hold water in your hands. Now you must learn to drink it."

We stood in the clearing at dawn, the sky a pale gray, the moon still faintly visible on the horizon. Elena had woken me before sunrise, her expression unreadable.

"The moon is at its weakest now," she continued. "The perfect time to begin the real training."

"What's the real training?"

"Learning to use the moon's power without the moon."

She handed me a small blade. "Cut your palm."

"I already did that for the ritual."

"That was blood for a spell. This is blood for a bond." She held out her own hand, the palm already marked with a thin silver scar. "The Moon-touched carry the moon inside them. But the connection has to be forged deliberately. Pain is the quickest way."

I took the blade. Cut.

The pain was sharp and immediate. But as my blood welled up, I felt something else — a thrum, a pulse, like a second heartbeat awakening in my chest.

"Now press your palm to mine."

I did.

The moment our blood touched, the world shifted.

I felt her — Elena's presence, flooding into me like warm water. Her memories. Her pain. Her love. Her 300 years of solitude, compressed into a single heartbeat.

Aurora.

Mom?

I'm here. I've always been here.

When I opened my eyes, I was crying.

Elena was crying too. But she was smiling.

"Now you know," she whispered. "Now you understand."

The bond changed everything.

I could feel the moon even during the day now — not as a pull, but as a constant hum beneath my skin. I could sense Elena's presence anywhere in the keep, a warm glow at the edge of my awareness. And I could feel something else, too. A thread, thin and golden, pulling me toward...

Damon.

"Is this normal?" I asked Elena that evening. "Feeling... him?"

"The bond connects you to me. But through me, it connects to everyone I've ever been bound to." She paused. "Damon was my mate. The bond remembers."

"So he can feel it too?"

"I don't know." She looked at me, her expression unreadable. "But if he can, he hasn't said anything."

I didn't sleep well that night.

The golden thread was there, pulsing softly, pulling me through the dark corridors. I followed it without meaning to, bare feet on cold stone, until I stopped outside Damon's door.

I raised my hand to knock.

Paused.

Lowered it.

The thread pulled again, insistent.

I turned and walked away.

Not yet, I told myself. Not until I know what I want.

But the thread didn't stop pulling.

The next morning, I found Kael sharpening his sword in the training yard.

"Heard you started training with your mother," he said without looking up.

"News travels fast."

"In a keep full of wolves, everything travels fast."

I sat down on the bench across from him. "Kael. Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask."

"Do you regret it? What you did to Elena?"

His hand stopped moving. For a long moment, he didn't speak.

"I have regretted it every day for 300 years," he said finally. "I will regret it for the rest of my life."

"But she forgave you."

"She is a better person than I am."

"She's my mother."

"I know." He looked up at me. "And I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of her forgiveness."

I didn't know what to say to that. So I said nothing.

Kael went back to sharpening his sword.

And I went to find the moon.