The Luna Price

Chapter 5: Three Hairs and a Countdown

My mom died coming back to a tree.

I only figured that out when I was standing right in front of it.

Irony, I guess. When it wants to kill you, it really does.

Kael’s voice just... faded. Underground.

I tried to tell her to stop.

But it went away. Like smoke in water. Gone before I could even get the words out.

My palm was still on the bark.

I had to force myself to pull away.

And the second I did, the wood felt colder. Like it exhaled. Like something was holding its breath and finally let go.

Rain on stone.

His smell. God.

It was just hanging there. Mixed with pine and iron and my pack. Two worlds in one breath and it made me dizzy.

I held my hand up in the torchlight cause I couldn’t not look.

Three white strands. Just sitting there when my hair fell forward.

I didn’t push it back. Didn’t want to.

I did the math in my head. Over and over.

Mom used her power once. Lost seven years. Seven whole years.

She came back to this tree every year. Weeks. Days. However long it took.

Dead at twenty-five.

How much did love cost her, really?

How much did I cost her? Just by existing. By needing to be hidden.

Darius was watching me from like ten feet back.

“How much did that cost you?” he asked.

Not mean. Scared. Actually scared.

“I don’t know yet.” I looked at my hands. They didn’t look like mine. “That’s the thing. You never know till you find the hair.”

“Luna—”

“She came back every year, Darius.” My voice sounded flat. Empty. Dead. “She missed him. So she came back every single year to this stupid tree to listen through the bark. And it killed her. Slow. And nobody told me. Nobody.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Did you know?” I asked. Sharper this time.

His face did that thing. The thing where he knows something awful and doesn’t want to say it.

Of course he knew.

Everyone knew everything except me.

That ends tonight. Here. Now.

I turned to face him. Full on. Torch between us.

His gold eyes couldn’t hide. Not in this light.

“Tell me,” I said. “All of it. Right now. In this clearing. Before we go back to the pack.”

“Luna, the Hunters—”

“Are two days away.” I cut him off. “This takes ten minutes. Just talk.”

He sighed. Looked at the tree. Then at me.

“I knew about the tree. Your mom showed me the year before she died. Made me promise. Swear I’d never bring you here.”

“And yet.” I couldn’t help it. “Here we are anyway.”

“And yet you asked,” he said. Voice got rough. “And I— I couldn’t say no to you. I don’t even know when that started. But I couldn’t.”

“What else?” My throat felt tight. Like I’d been crying but I hadn’t.

“The symbol on the bark.” He nodded at it. “Two circles. It’s not a grave marker. It’s a lock. She carved it herself. First year she came back. Said it kept the connection contained. Kept it from bleeding into the pack bond.”

“So the tree’s a seal.”

“A small one. Personal.” He paused. Swallowed hard. “If you broke it open just now—”

“Then Kael has a crack in two seals.” I finished for him. “The big one underground. And this one.” I stared at the symbol. Traced it with my eyes. “How many cracks before something walks out, Darius?”

Silence.

Just wind. Cold wind.

“I don’t know,” he said. Finally.

“Guess.”

“I think—” He picked his words slow. Like they hurt. “I think he’s been waiting for someone on this side. Someone with enough power to pull him through. Without the Shadow Queen.”

I went still. Too still.

My heart was loud.

“He doesn’t want to come up with her,” I whispered.

“No.”

“He wants someone to get him out before she wakes up.”

Darius looked at me. Gold eyes steady. Honest and awful. “He wants you,” he said. “Specifically. Only you.”

My dad was underground. Waiting for his daughter to break him free. Before his captor woke up.

I had two days. Three white hairs. And zero idea if what was left of him even deserved saving.

I had a feeling I was gonna find out the hard way.

I was always good at that. Too good.

Walking back through the pack forest, Darius walked ahead. Gave me space.

Torch bobbed. Shadows jumped everywhere.

I counted my steps. Old habit. Old armor. Kept my brain from spiraling.

I thought about my mom.

Not grief. Autopsy. Like I was cutting her open in my head.

Sela.

Her name was Sela. She was seventeen when the power started. Eighteen when she sealed her sister. Twenty-five when she died.

Eight years. Eight years between sealing Mira and dying.

Some of those years she spent having me.

Some hiding me.

Some coming back to this tree to listen to the man she left underground.

How many years did I cost her just by being born?

How many did she waste keeping me ignorant?

Was the ignorance a gift? Or was it a wound?

Both. It was both.

In this family everything was both. Always.

I thought about Kael. Tried to be clinical. Cold. Smart.

He felt gentle. That’s what messed me up.

When he touched back through the seal, he was careful. Like he was trying not to break something small.

A hundred years underground. With a woman who sealed him as bait.

And he still touched careful.

Either he was exactly what I wanted him to be.

Or he’d had a hundred years to practice seeming that way. Practice lying.

Three questions kept looping in my head:

If I pull him out before the Shadow Queen surfaces, does she surface anyway?

Or does Kael leaving collapse her anchor?

The power came from his bloodline. If he’s free, does my cost change? Go up? Go down?

Mom warned me: love and possession felt identical with this power.

Was she warning me about him?

Or about myself?

Pack gates ahead. Lights still on. Voices.

Something happened while I was gone. I could feel it in my teeth.

I walked into the forest as a girl in a cell.

I don’t know what I was walking back as.

But my shadow was walking straighter than I was.

Progress? Or a warning?

Probably both. Definitely both.

I was through the gates when I heard the Alpha’s voice go flat.

The way it does when he’s deciding fight or negotiate.

Answer is neither yet.

One guy stood in the pack courtyard. Alone.

No unit behind him. They were outside the gates, I’d learn later.

Just him. Sent ahead. On purpose. A message.

Tall. Pale coat. Silver thread at the collar.

Hunter’s mark.

I knew it from somewhere old in my blood. Knew it the way prey knows the smell of the thing hunting her specifically.

Young face. Old eyes.

Device on his wrist glowed faint blue when he turned to me.

Got brighter when he saw me.

“There she is,” he said. Not to anyone. Just... noting it. Like checking off a list.

“You’re early,” the Alpha said. Voice hard.

“We moved up.” He looked at me like I was math. Interested. Not cruel.

That was worse than cruel. Way worse. “Luna. Daughter of Sela. Granddaughter of the Thornblood line.” He tilted his head. “You used the power four times in forty-eight hours. We felt each one.”

“You counted,” I said. Flat.

“We always count.” The device pulsed. “Three white strands. Forty-one years left at your current rate of use.” Said it like weather. Like it didn’t matter. “I’m Caius. I’m not here to kill you.”

Yeah right.

I didn’t believe him.

Neither did you, probably.

“Then why are you here?” the Alpha growled.

Caius looked at me only. Not the Alpha. Me.

“I’m here because the last Thornblood girl was murdered by my predecessor,” he said. “I’m here because I’ve been looking for you three years. And I’m here because in like thirty-six hours, the seal breaks completely.”

Pause. Let it sink in.

“And I think you already know that.”

Alpha tried to step in. I stopped him with one hand.

I needed to hear this myself.

“Everyone says they’re not here to kill me right before they try,” I said.

“Fair.” He didn’t flinch. “My predecessor killed your grandma. The one before him killed three Thornblood women in thirty years. Hunters have a bad history with your bloodline.”

“And you’re different?” Doubt all over my voice.

“I’m trying to be.” He checked the device. “Forty-one years, Luna. That’s what you’ve got left if you keep using it like this. I have info that could change that number.”

“What kind of info?”

“The kind your mom was looking for when she died.” He met my eyes. Didn’t look away. “She contacted us two months before she passed. Wanted to make a deal. Info about the seal for the cost formula. Exact math of how much each use takes.”

My chest went cold. Ice.

“She was trying to figure out how to use it without dying.”

“Yeah.” His jaw tightened. “My predecessor said no and had her followed instead. He got removed from his position shortly after. Informally.”

“Informally,” I repeated. Tasted bitter.

“He didn’t survive the removal.”

Silence.

Heavy.

“So you’re offering me what he refused her,” I said.

“I’m offering you the formula. The real one. Not the one-year-per-use BS.” He stepped closer. Alpha growled low. I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. “Your mom was right it wasn’t simple. She was wrong about almost everything else.”

“What’s the real formula?” Voice shook a little.

He looked at my three white strands. Really looked.

“It’s not about use,” he said quiet. “It’s about intention.”

Intention.

Mom used it once to seal her sister. Intention: sacrifice. Seven years.

I used it to fight rogues. Intention: survival. One year.

I touched the tree to listen. Intention: connection. Less than a year but still something.

What does intention: rage cost?

What does intention: love cost?

What does intention: free my dad from underground cost?

I looked at Caius and felt the ground shift under everything I thought I knew.

Caius asked for one hour with me. Alone.

Alpha said no. Flat no.

I overruled him. First time. Publicly.

Pack watched. All of them.

“One hour,” I said. To the Alpha. Not a request.

His jaw worked. “Luna—”

“One hour.” I looked at the pack. Warriors. Elder Croft’s cold eyes. Old woman grabbing my arm. Darius at the edge of everything, looking like a man watching something he can’t stop.

“I’m not the disgrace anymore,” I said. Quiet. Fact. “Act like it.”

Alpha stepped back.

Pack parted.

I walked Caius to the healer’s hall and shut the door behind us.

Inside, he opened a case.

Inside the case: a journal. Not my mom’s. Older. Different handwriting.

Name on the cover: _Mira Thornblood_. Shadow Queen’s journal.

“We recovered it forty years ago,” Caius said. “From the original sealing site. My predecessor kept it classified.” He set it on the table. Careful. “I read it. All of it.”

“And?” Hands shaking.

“She wasn’t always what she is now.” He looked at me careful. “She was fourteen when the power took her. Seventeen when your grandpa sealed her. Not your mom. Your grandpa. Your mom only reinforced the seal.”

“My grandpa,” I repeated. Words felt wrong in my mouth.

“He built the original lock. He put Kael in with her.” He paused. Let it hit. “Not as bait for your mom.”

I went cold. Full body cold.

“Then why?” Barely a whisper.

“Because Kael asked to go in.” Caius held my gaze. Didn’t waver. “He went in voluntary. Said he could reach her. Bring her back. He believed he could save her.”

Room tilted.

Kael didn’t get trapped.

Kael walked in.

My dad chose a hundred years underground. For the woman wearing my face in my shadow.

Far below. Two heartbeats.

Not one.

Both waiting.

Both listening.