Bound to the Silvermoon Goddess

Chapter 2

Since I turned sixteen, I've been praying to the Moon Goddess every night like some desperate gambler who keeps thinking the next roll will be the lucky one. Two years of praying. Two years of watching my friends shift into their wolves while I stood on the side-lines, smiling so hard my face hurt.

Two years of waking up human. Just human. In a world where "just human" is the last thing anyone wants to be.

I spin the sword once between my fingers before sheathing it at my hip.

"You've been saying that since I turned sixteen," I reminded him.

"Yeah, and I still mean it," he says easily.

Of course he does. Adrian has enough faith for ten people. It's one of the reasons he's a good warrior and an even better friend. It's also one of the reasons I sometimes want to shake him until his teeth rattle.

I bend down and grab one of the rogue bodies by its front paws. The weight drags at my shoulders as I start

hauling it towards the border pit where we burn them. Behind me, I hear Adrian doing the same with another.

Since the whole "no wolf" situation, my days have been painfully predictable: wake up before dawn, train until my muscles scream, grab a quick shower, maybe choke down some breakfast if I'm not already late, school, more training, dinner shift in the pack kitchen, then bed. Rinse. Repeat. Trying not to think about how everyone else my age is learning how to mind link and track by scent while I learn the optimum angle to stab a rogue.

I'm late for that dinner shift now. Again.

"I can only pray this is my year," I say quietly, the words coming out before I can swallow them back down.

"Don't worry, kiddo." He doesn't even sound like he's trying to be kind; it's just natural for him. "Even without your wolf, you've always held your own better than those with one."

Compliments are nice. Compliments don't reach the hollow space inside my chest where a wolf should be.

We reach the bonfire pit, a wide, blackened circle just this side of the border. Charred wood and old ash crunch under my boots. The smell here never quite goes away: smoke, burnt fur, something sour underneath. It clings to your clothes and your nightmares.

I drop the body with a heavy thud and straighten, arching my back until it clicks. The sky above the trees is purple now, streaked with the last gold of sunset. Night is bleeding in at the edges.

"Yeah, I know," I say, wiping my palms on my pants. "It would just be great to feel connected to someone. To something. Just once. To not be the odd one out all the time."

Adrian releases the rogue he's dragging and turns to face me fully, arms crossing over his bare chest, muscles shifting under his skin. He's taller than me by a head, broader by a lot, and somehow still looks like a giant annoyed teddy bear when he frowns.

"You are connected to someone," he says firmly. "You're connected to us. All of us. We'll always be your family, kiddo."

The words land in my chest like a stone tossed into a lake, sending ripples out in every direction. The sting behind my eyes takes me by surprise. I look away, pretending to check the bodies instead of my own emotions.

Before I can think of a sarcastic response, the only kind I'm good at, his eyes glaze over. The colour seems to drain out of them, replaced by that distant, unfocused look I've seen my whole life but never felt.

Mind, link.

Every time I see it, it's a reminder of what I don't have. What I might never have.

I busy myself stacking wood around the nearest body, pretending I'm not watching him from the corner of my eye.

"Alpha wants to talk to you," Adrian says when his pupils finally sharpen again. "He said not to worry about the dinner shift. Marla has it covered."

Of course she does. Marla always covers for me. She insists it's because she likes the evening quiet in the kitchen. I suspect it's partly because she knows I'd rather fight three rogues than scrub fifty plates.

"Are you good with the rest?" I jerk my chin towards the remaining bodies.

"You know I am." He waves me off like he's swatting a fly. "Go before he changes his mind and makes me sit in on whatever lecture he's got lined up for you."

"Wouldn't dream of depriving you of a good lecture," I sarcastically say back, already turning towards the path that leads to the main pack house.