The Human Luna

Adam

(Adam's POV)

"You can't be serious Adam, you're the future alpha, you wear a scar you received from a human like a badge of pride and you still think we can coexist?" My father shouted at me in his office. This was always the case. Whenever a sparring match turned into a full on fight and I put someone in the infirmary, I was always the one getting yelled at. I was always the one in trouble.

"Yea, I do. Because I believe that simply because I have this..." I hold up my left arm "doesn't mean all are bad. There are bad wolves. Does that mean humans should hate us just because of a few of us are rotten? It has to be the same for them."

My dad, Alpha Louis of New Moon pack just looked at me, his eyes going between a bright blue and bright white. His wolf was furious as well but he wouldn't strike me, not out of rage. He never had. Before either of us could say anything more, my mom's voice broke the silence.

"Louis, down. Our boy has his...beliefs. Even if it is foolish."

"Mom..." I groaned, my hands covering my face.

"Don't. You know why we feel this way and it'll take a miracle of the Moon Goddess to prove that humans aren't hellbent on erasing us off this planet."

"What about the wolf-human settlements in the southern lands? The wolf-human mates we've heard stories about?"

"Foolish wolves who chose not to believe the history," Dad said and I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, steeling my emotions.

Our parents just don't understand, Pik, my lycan said mentally.

They never will buddy. Thankfully, they can't do anything when I'm Alpha.

"Anyway...your punishment...for putting another warrior in the infirmary...the fifth time this week...is patrols for the next two weeks along The Scar border."

My face paled at that. "You...can't...be serious." My voice was soft. "You're sending me, your son, your heir to the most dangerous part of our border? Where the chance of a rogue encounter is damn well guaranteed!?" I was shouting now. He had NEVER assigned me to this route before.

Never.

Warriors came back wounded nightly and sometimes...sometimes they wouldn't return.

"Oh don't be a baby. I'm not sending you alone. Your Beta and Gamma will be with you."

"Oh, so your punishing me and my friends because another warrior wanted to try his luck." I shot back.

My father closed his eyes, his fists went white at the knuckles and he exhaled. "This isn't a debate son. You start tomorrow night."

"Fine."

I turn and walk out, damn near the slamming the door shut. I needed a run and Pik was agitated as well. I walk down the stairs of the packhouse and pause at the door as an Omega walks up to me. "Do you need anything Adam?"

"Nah. Just going for a run. Can you have a drink waiting for me when I get back?"

"Of course!"

"Thank you."

As I walked out of the house, I can see sun is still high in the sky so I got plenty of daylight to burn. I quickly shift right there on the front porch and dash off into the woods, time to burn off some of this energy.

The shift is always a release, a moment of pure freedom as bones c***k and reshape, skin stretching over new muscle, fur sprouting along my arms and back. In seconds, I'm on all fours, Pik's form taking over, my mind expanding to encompass the forest around me. The scent of pine, damp earth, and distant prey fills my senses, the familiar comfort of the wild washing away the anger still simmering in my gut.

He's punishing us, Pik growls in my mind, his voice a low rumble. Sending us to The Scar... he hopes we'll die.

Maybe, I concede, my paws thudding against the forest floor as I pick up speed, dodging trees and leaping over fallen logs with ease. Or maybe he just wants to scare me into changing my mind.

It won't work, Pik snarls, his bright orange eyes scanning the woods ahead. We know the truth of this world. Not all humans are monsters.

Not all wolves are saints either, I counter, though I know he doesn't need the reminder.

We've had this argument countless times, with our father, with the pack, with ourselves. The scar on my left forearm tingles, a phantom pain from the human knife that carved into my flesh when I was just a pup, before I'd even shifted for the first time. I'd wandered too close to the human settlement, curious about their strange world, their strange ways. The human who attacked me had been wild-eyed, terrified, his hatred a palpable thing as he'd lunged at me with that knife. I'd survived, but the wound had left more than just a physical mark. It had left a question in my mind that had never truly gone away:

Why?

The forest opens up into a meadow, wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. I slow to a trot, my chest heaving, the anger finally beginning to dissipate. Up ahead, I can see the pack's training grounds, where Rufus and Ronan are likely still sparring, their forms blurring as they practice the moves I'd taught them. My friends. My pack. My responsibility.

They'll follow us anywhere, Pik says, his voice softer now. Even into The Scar.

They shouldn't have to, I reply, guilt gnawing at me. This is my burden, not theirs.

They chose you as their Alpha long before your father chose you as his heir, Pik reminds me. They believe in you. In us.



I shake my massive head, water spraying from my fur as I near the stream that cuts through the meadow. I'd tell them about my father's punishment soon. They knew it would happen after the sparring match that had landed Kael, one of our strongest warriors, in the infirmary. He'd been goading me for weeks, testing my resolve, pushing me to fight harder, to be the Alpha he thought our pack needed. One who hated humans as much as they did. One who would lead them to victory, not peace. I'd held back as long as I could, but when he'd mentioned my scar, called it a "mark of shame," something in me had snapped. The fight had been brutal, but necessary. Kael had needed to learn his place, and I'd needed to remind them all that I wasn't to be trifled with, regardless of my beliefs.