Moonlit Scars

Chapter 5: Pack Politics and Past

Lila's POV

The alley’s shadows swallow us, the air thick with the scent of iron and tension. Jaxon’s question—*What are you doing with them?*—hangs between us, his green eyes flickering with hurt and anger. Zane stands beside me, his leather jacket brushing my arm, his rogue pack fanned out behind him, engines idling. Alpha Darius steps closer, his presence like a storm cloud, his gray eyes locked on my silver-streaked hair. My wolf snarls, sensing his threat, and the mate bond with Jaxon pulses, a painful knot in my chest.

Zane’s hand grazes mine, a silent signal to stay calm. “This doesn’t concern you, Darius,” he says, his voice low and steady. Jaxon’s crew—five werewolf students—shift closer, their eyes glinting in the dark. My pulse races, my silver pelt itching under my skin, drained from healing Eli. I’m caught between two worlds, and neither feels safe.

Darius’s lips curl, not quite a smile. “A silver wolf,” he says, his voice cold as steel. “You’re a liability, girl.” Jaxon steps forward, his jaw tight, but Darius raises a hand, silencing him. I clench my fists, my claws threatening to break free, and Zane’s pack growls, ready to fight.

Zane nudges me toward his bike. “We’re leaving,” he mutters, his scar catching the moonlight. Jaxon’s gaze burns into me, but I climb behind Zane, my hands gripping his jacket. The engines roar, and we speed back to campus, the alley fading into a blur. My heart pounds—Darius knows my secret, and I’m not ready for what that means.

Back at Crestwood, I slip into my dorm, my sneakers quiet on the hardwood. Maya’s sprawled on her bed, sketching, her fairy lights casting a warm glow. “Where’ve you been?” she asks, her pencil pausing. My phone buzzes—her missed calls from earlier—and I force a smile, my head spinning. “Just… out,” I say, collapsing onto my bed, the scent of leather still clinging to me.

Maya sits up, her curls bouncing. “Out with Mr. Motorcycle?” she teases, but her eyes search mine, sensing trouble. I laugh, but it’s hollow, and my wolf whines, still rattled from Darius’s stare. She tosses me a granola bar, and I catch it, grateful for her normalcy. “Spill, Lila,” she says, “or I’ll draw you as a grumpy cat.”

I nibble the bar, its sweetness grounding me. “It’s complicated,” I mutter, thinking of Jaxon’s hurt eyes, Zane’s steady presence, and Darius’s threat. Maya leans closer, her voice soft. “You don’t have to carry it alone.” Her words hit hard, but I can’t tell her everything—not yet.

Morning comes too fast, the campus buzzing with news of Darius’s visit. I tug on a fresh hoodie, hiding my silver hair, and head to the student center for his mandatory werewolf meeting. The hall’s packed, the air thick with pack scents—pine, earth, and tension. Darius stands at the front, his tailored suit screaming authority, Jaxon at his side, eyes downcast. My wolf stirs, the bond tugging me toward Jaxon, but I focus on the exit, ready to bolt.

Darius’s voice booms, outlining the truce’s rules: no shifting on campus, no fights, loyalty to the pack. His gray eyes scan the crowd, lingering on me, and my skin prickles. “Crestwood is a privilege,” he says, his tone sharp. “Disruptions—like rogue packs—won’t be tolerated.” I glance at Jaxon, his fists clenched, and wonder if he’s thinking of me or Zane.

The meeting ends, and students scatter, their whispers about rogues and silver wolves buzzing in my ears. I slip into the library, needing quiet, but Jaxon catches up, his scent hitting me like a wave. “Lila, please,” he says, his voice low, almost desperate. My wolf whines, torn, and I turn, facing him in the empty stacks. His green eyes hold mine, and the bond flares, stealing my breath.

“I need to explain,” Jaxon says, stepping closer. His hand reaches for mine, but I pull back, my heart racing. “Explain what?” I snap, my voice trembling. “How you humiliated me in front of our pack?” The memory—his cold words, the pack’s laughter—burns, and my claws prick my palms.

Jaxon flinches, his face paling. “It wasn’t my choice,” he says, his voice breaking. “My father wanted me to mate with a rival pack’s daughter to secure an alliance.” My chest tightens, the bond pulsing with his pain, but I shake my head, distrust heavy. “You still said the words,” I whisper, turning away, my eyes stinging.

He grabs my arm, gentle but firm. “I was sixteen, Lila, scared of defying him.” His voice cracks, and I see the boy I loved, not the Alpha heir. “I’ve regretted it every day.” The bond hums, urging me closer, but my wolf snarls, rejecting his apology, and I wrench free, running from the library.

Outside, my phone buzzes—a text from Zane: *Meet me at the overlook. Need to clear my head.* My pulse quickens, his wild scent lingering in my memory. I text Maya I’m okay and head to the forest’s edge, where Zane’s bike waits, its chrome glinting. He leans against it, his leather jacket open, his dark eyes softening as I approach. “You look like you need this,” he says, tossing me a helmet.

We ride to the cliff from last night, the ocean stretching below, moonlight dancing on the waves. Zane cuts the engine, and we sit on the grass, the silence heavy but comfortable. “My pack’s been my family since I was banished,” he says, his voice low. “Half-breeds don’t get second chances in Darius’s world.” His scar catches the light, and my wolf senses his pain, a mirror to mine.

I tuck my knees to my chest, the wind tangling my silver hair. “I don’t know where I fit,” I admit, my voice small. Zane’s hand brushes mine, warm and rough, and my breath catches. “You fit where you choose,” he says, his eyes holding mine. My wolf hums, drawn to his strength, and I wonder if I’m falling for him—or the freedom he represents.

Back on campus, Maya’s waiting in the dorm, her sketchbook open to a drawing of a silver wolf. “Research time,” she declares, dragging me to the library. We dig through old werewolf lore, her fingers flying over her laptop. A dusty book mentions silver wolves—rare healers who can mend emotional wounds but risk their own spirit. My stomach twists—my gift drained me with Eli, and I’m not sure I can control it.

Maya’s eyes widen as she reads. “This says silver wolves are hunted for their power.” Her voice is quiet, and I think of Darius’s cold stare. My phone buzzes again—another text from Zane: *Darius is meeting with pack leaders tonight. Stay sharp.* My heart races, and I realize I’m not just a student anymore—I’m a target.

The library’s closing bell rings, and we head out, the campus dark and quiet. Maya links her arm with mine, her warmth a lifeline. “We’ll figure this out,” she says, but her voice wavers. As we reach the dorm, a shadow moves in the quad—a tall figure, his scent cold and commanding. Darius steps into the moonlight, his eyes glinting, and I freeze, my silver pelt humming under my skin, ready to betray me.