Chapter 7 – Questions by the Fire
818 Words
I woke to dark canvas and the stink of herbs.
For a second I didn’t know where I was. Then both bonds tugged at once—Moonfang close and warm, Stormclaw a steady thrum farther off.
Right. Still me.
I pushed upright. Someone had thrown an extra blanket over me. A mug of tea sat on the crate beside the cot, stone‑cold. I drank it anyway and stepped outside.
Moonfang’s camp hummed quietly. No screaming, no chaos—just the low noise of a tired pack. Fires banked low, pups asleep in piles, warriors slumped near the flames.
“Kaela!”
Finn skidded to a stop in front of me, arms full of blankets. “You’re up. Rowan said if anyone woke you and you bit them, it was their fault.”
“Good policy,” I said. “How long?”
“Sun went up, went down,” he said. “Caelan said if anyone stepped inside the medic tent, he’d chew their ears off.”
“Charming.”
Finn peered up. “Is it true? That you’re really our Luna now?”
No point dodging. “Yes,” I said. “Rowan did the whole water‑and‑wreath thing. It’s official.”
He let out a breath. “Good. We needed one.”
Before I could answer, another voice cut across the clearing.
“Thorn! If you’re vertical, get over here.”
Liora, ladle in hand, standing by the main fire. I patted Finn’s shoulder and walked over.
She shoved a bowl of stew at me and nodded to a log. A few warriors and pups loitered within earshot, pretending not to listen.
“So,” Liora said, settling opposite me. “Our brand‑new Luna ran off right after the ritual, saved Stormclaw’s Alpha from becoming hood ornament, and came back smelling like their camp. True?”
Silence rippled. Every conversation nearby suddenly got very, very quiet.
Heat crawled up my neck. “Mostly,” I said. “The ritual was over. The saving wasn’t optional.”
“And the fang?” she asked. Her gaze flicked to my throat.
Under my shirt, Rylan’s tooth felt like a stone.
“Old,” I said. “Complicated. Still there.”
One of the warriors snorted. “Stormclaw fang on a Moonfang Luna. Great.”
“Stormclaw fang on the throat that put your lungs back in,” Liora said calmly. “Show some gratitude, Harlan.”
He shut up.
Liora looked back at me. “When pups ask who you are, what do I tell them? Just healer? Just Caelan’s? Just ours?”
The bonds inside me tightened until it hurt.
“I’m Moonfang’s Luna,” I said slowly. “That’s not a maybe. I stood in your circle and said yes.”
A low, pleased murmur went around the fire.
“And?” Liora asked.
“And,” I forced out, “the Moon didn’t stop there. She tied me to Rylan too. I’m not going to lie and pretend that bond isn’t real.”
The murmurs turned sharper. Someone cursed under their breath. Someone else hissed for quiet.
“Do you run to them instead of us?” Liora asked.
“I run,” I said, “to whoever’s bleeding fastest. If that makes me disloyal in your eyes, say it now.”
For a heartbeat, nothing.
Then Kade, leaning on a post, snorted. “You’d all be corpses if she checked colors before cutting silver out of you.”
Reluctant laughter broke the tension.
Liora’s mouth twitched. “You were gone for hours,” she said. “Caelan wore a trench in the snow. Finn nearly hauled the river into basins. Next time, leave a word. A mark. Something.”
Guilt pricked. “I’ll… do better,” I said.
“Good,” she said. Her voice dropped so only I could hear. “We just taught the pups the Moon didn’t make a mistake sending you. Don’t prove us wrong.”
Before I could answer, a clear pulse slid along the Stormclaw bond. Not pain. A deliberate knock.
Rylan.
Liora watched my face. “Them?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Asking nicely. For once.”
She sighed. “Then go. Before ‘nicely’ turns into ‘howling’ and my Alpha starts pretending he can’t hear it.”
“You’re not going to ask me to stay?” I asked.
“I’m going to ask you to come back,” she said simply. “And to remember who else calls you Luna.”
Moonfang’s bond warmed, solid around my ribs.
“I remember,” I said.
The Stormclaw tug came again, a little sharper.
I set the empty bowl down, grabbed my pack, and headed for the trees—this time with half the camp watching, and no lies stuck in my throat.
Small mercy. Ugly road.
- Writer
