Perfect Luna, Double Crowned

Chapter 24 – Human Alibis

The city smelled wrong after too long in the trees.

Too much asphalt and exhaust, not enough dirt. Too many heartbeats packed into too small a space. My wolf pressed against my skin, restless. I told her we were here for a reason and pushed through the clinic’s sliding doors.

Fluorescent light hit my eyes like a slap. Antiseptic. Coffee. Old magazines. Human world, neat and contained.

“Kaela!” Nyra’s voice cut through the din. She popped up from behind the reception counter, curls in a messy knot, pen behind one ear. “You’re early. Or late. I can’t tell anymore.”

“Chronology is a suggestion,” I said. “Where’s Elias?”

“In back, threatening the new intern with lab protocols,” she said. Her gaze tracked over my face. “You look like you fought a forest and lost.”

“Half credit,” I said. “Need you both. Now.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Fun ‘need’ or ‘oh God, hide the bodies’ need?”

“The kind where I ask you not to let anyone die in the wrong place,” I said.

Her smile dropped. “Right. Got it.”

She led me through the maze of halls, past exam rooms and humming machines, to Elias’s office. The door was half‑open; his voice rolled out, patient but firm.

“—no, you cannot just eyeball the dosage because you saw it on a show, that’s how you—”

“Elias,” I said, leaning in.

He turned. Lab coat, dark circles, eyes that went immediately sharper when they landed on me. “You’re back earlier than I—”

He stopped. “What happened.”

“Too much to do in four nights,” I said. “And I need help making sure your world doesn’t slam headfirst into mine.”

He dismissed the intern with a nod. When the door clicked shut, he gestured to the chair. I shook my head.

“Talk,” he said.

“There’s an old quarry north of town,” I began. “You know it?”

“Of course,” he said. “We get kids from there every few summers. Falls, cuts, alcohol poisoning, the usual Darwin awards. Why?”

“Because it’s going to be very unsafe there soon,” I said. “And I need ambulances to accidentally ignore it.”

His frown deepened. “Kaela.”

“I’m not asking you to leave anyone to die,” I said quickly. “If there’s a legitimate call, you go. But I need the system to make it… inconvenient to be up there. Extra patrols elsewhere. ‘Roadworks’ signs. Whatever gets teenagers and bored hunters to pick another party spot for the next week.”

“Why?” Nyra asked quietly from the doorway. She’d slipped in and perched on the edge of the filing cabinet, watching my face.

“Because someone is using the quarry as a staging ground for some very organized, very ugly ‘hunting,’” I said. “Traps in the forest, bait on the road. They want wolves and humans to chew each other up until there’s nothing left but fear.”

Elias studied me. He didn’t ask “wolves?” anymore. We were long past that.

“And you’re going to stop them,” he said.

“Going to try,” I said. “Which means there will be nights soon where a lot happens up there that can’t end with flashing lights and news vans if we want anyone to live long enough to fix it.”

He leaned back, fingers steepled. “You’re asking us to blindfold the city. On purpose.”

“I’m asking you to tint the glasses,” I said. “Not black. Just… rose‑colored enough that no one looks too hard at a fenced‑off hole in the ground for a few days.”

Nyra swung her feet. “We could push a public‑health thing,” she said slowly. “Old quarry, unstable rock, risk of collapse—easier to get people to stay away if they think the ground will eat them.”

“And we route patrols past the river instead,” Elias added. “More ‘accidental’ DUIs, less ‘fell into a pit while chasing a monster.’”

He rubbed his temple. “You know this will come back awkward if anything goes wrong.”

“If anything goes wrong and you’re there with sirens and cameras, it’ll be worse,” I said. “Trust me.”

He exhaled. “I do. That’s the problem.”

Nyra hopped down. “Okay. I’ll hit social,” she said. “Scary posts about sinkholes, share some old urban‑legend videos, get the teens to decide the quarry is ‘cursed’ for a week. Shouldn’t be hard; half of them already think that.”

“Subtlety,” Elias warned.

She rolled her eyes. “Please. I can be subtle. Sometimes.”

She slipped out, already muttering about hashtags.

Elias studied me a moment longer. “What about you?”

“I’ll be on the rim,” I said. “More or less. Trying very hard not to fall in.”

“Not reassuring,” he said dryly.

“I’ve never lied well to you,” I said. “I’m not starting now.”

He went quiet, then opened a drawer and pulled out a small metal case. Inside, neat rows of syringes gleamed.

“Sedatives?” I guessed.

“Emergency shots,” he said. “For shock. Panic. The kind of thing that makes people talk too much on camera. If any of your… people end up where my people can see them, this might buy you silence long enough to get them out.”

The practical thoughtfulness of it hit harder than any speech.

“You’re a good man,” I said, voice rough.

“I’m an overworked doctor who doesn’t want to explain fur and teeth to a board review,” he said. “But thank you.”

He hesitated. “And if you don’t come back?”

“Then you get a very annoying ghost haunting your supply closet,” I said. “And a forest on your doorstep with no one yelling at it to behave.”

His mouth tightened. “Kaela.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said softly. “That’s all I’ve ever had.”

He looked like he wanted to say more. Instead, he closed the case and pushed it into my hands.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll reroute patrols. Nyra will scare the teenagers. You go… do whatever impossible thing you think you can pull off this time.”

“Two impossible things,” I said. “Three, if you count getting two alphas to agree on a battle plan.”

He snorted. “Now I know you’re insane.”

“Probably,” I agreed.

When I stepped back onto the street, the air felt thicker, charged. Four nights suddenly felt very short.

Behind me, human allies started quietly tugging threads in their world.

Ahead, the forest waited.

Between them, I walked the line I’d chosen—half healer, half bait, Luna to two kings and now, apparently, part‑time saboteur of municipal planning.

Balance, Rowan had said.

Fulcrum, I thought.

Not for the first time, I wondered how long before the weight on either side finally cracked the stone in the middle.