Luna’s Lost Bond

~CHAPTER FIFTEEN~

Anaya watched Nyara pivot with nothing in her hands.

No sword. No weapon. Just instinct — and it was enough to make Anaya pause. Nyara shifted her weight, turned with an imaginary attack, and brought her forearm up in a rough block before stepping back. The movement was unpolished, her balance slightly off, her feet too close together.

But the foundation was there.

Too slow, Anaya thought. Feet wrong. Shoulders too tense. She puts too much force into every strike and leaves herself open every time she turns.

But she was learning.

She's good for someone who has obviously never trained before, she told Rivena.

You have been watching her for almost ten minutes, her wolf replied.

Occupational hazard.

You are a Gamma. Not a predator stalking prey.

Is there a difference?

Her wolf Rivena sighed somewhere in the back of her mind. Anaya ignored her and watched Nyara attack her invisible opponent again — faster this time, still rough, still unbalanced, but beginning to understand the rhythm of her own body. There was something about the way she moved that Anaya couldn't quite place. Nyara's body did not look like that of a warrior. She lacked the muscle memory, the controlled balance, the instinctive awareness of her surroundings.

But she was strong. Stronger than she should have been. And she learned quickly — too quickly for someone who claimed to have no training.

Anaya watched her repeat a manoeuvre she had seen one of the younger warriors perform days ago. Nyara had not been at that training session. At least, Anaya did not remember seeing her there.

I have decided, Anaya said.

Rivena groaned immediately. That tone never means anything good.

I am going to train her.

Absolutely not.

She will join the warriors.

Anaya—

Why not?

Because she is not one of us. Because it is a political complication.

Anaya watched Nyara stumble, catch herself, and immediately attempt the movement again. This time she completed it cleanly.

She needs to know how to defend herself.

You need to stop making decisions before thinking about the consequences.

I have thought about the consequences.

For how long?

Long enough.

That means no time at all.

The decision had already settled in her mind with the weight of something that would not be moved. Rivena knew better than to argue when Anaya reached that point.

You have already decided, her wolf said finally.

Yes.

Then why did you tell me?

Because I enjoy hearing you complain.

Rivena growled. Anaya smiled and walked toward the clearing.

"Nice moves, Elair."

Nyara froze. Her head turned sharply toward the trees, eyes searching the line of shadow with an alertness that confirmed what Anaya had suspected — she had heard her but could not locate her. That was something worth noting.

Anaya stepped from between the trees.

Nyara studied her with that careful calculation Anaya had seen before — the measurement of someone deciding whether they were looking at a friend or a threat. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough."

"Then you know I am not very good."

"I know you have never been trained." Anaya walked closer, studying her stance. "Your feet are too far apart. Your shoulders are tense. You are using too much strength in your upper body, and every time you turn, you leave your left side open."

Nyara looked at her. "You saw all that?"

"I am the Pack's Gamma."

"Is that supposed to explain everything?"

"No. But it explains why you should listen to me." Anaya paused. "Where did you learn those movements?"

"I was just trying to remember what I've seen."

"What you've seen?"

"People training."

"When?"

Nyara hesitated — long enough for Anaya to notice exactly what the hesitation meant. "Before the cemetery?" Anaya asked.

Something flickered in Nyara's eyes. "I don't know."

"You don't remember?"

"I remember pieces. Movements. Voices. Places. Sometimes I see something, and I know I have seen it before, but I don't know when."

Nyara had told them she remembered nothing from before the cemetery. Yet she remembered watching warriors train. Anaya should have found that suspicious. She did.

But Nyara was standing in front of her with a look in her eyes that reminded Anaya of someone who had spent too long being helpless — and that mattered more than the inconsistency.

"Then you need proper training," Anaya said.

Nyara blinked. "What?"

"You heard me."

"I am not a warrior."

"Not yet."

Nyara stared at her. "No," she said, glancing toward the training grounds. "I can't just walk onto the training grounds. The pack would be against it. The Alpha hasn't given permission."

"The training grounds fall under my jurisdiction."

"Even if the Alpha doesn't agree?"

"Alpha Darian gave me authority over the warriors when he made me Gamma."

"And Beta Saneal?"

Anaya snorted. "I care even less about what Saneal has to say."

Nyara looked unconvinced. Anaya stepped closer. "Listen to me. Everyone should have the ability to protect themselves. If someone attacks you, you should be able to fight back. If someone tries to take you, you should be able to make them regret it."

Something dark crossed Nyara's face — a shadow that had nothing to do with fear. For a brief moment she looked less like a woman waiting to be protected and more like one deciding to stop waiting. "So you think I can learn?"

"I know you can."

"You don't even know me."

"I know enough. And anyone who has a problem with you training will answer to me."

A slow smile appeared on Nyara's face. Small but real. "Then when do we start?"

"First thing tomorrow."

For the first time since her awakening as Elair, Nyara did not look like someone waiting for permission to exist. She looked like someone preparing to become dangerous.

Anaya had the sudden, certain feeling that she had just set something in motion that would change far more than Nyara's ability to fight.

Darian had gone to the pack bar because he needed somewhere no one would ask him what he was thinking.

Unfortunately, the moment he sat down, he realized he had chosen the worst possible place for that.

Liora's face kept appearing in his mind.

Then Elair’s.

The two memories refused to stay separate.

He took another drink of scotch and stared at the amber liquid as though it might offer him an answer.

It did not.

He had spent the entire day trying to convince himself that the encounter meant nothing.

That Liora was still the woman he had known almost all his life.

That Elair was simply a complication.

That the strange pull he felt whenever he looked at her was nothing he needed to examine.

He had failed at all three.

He had not even noticed the three she-wolves at the other end of the room.

“You look terrible.”

Darian didn't look up.

"You're getting worse at ignoring women," Saneal said, dropping into the seat beside him.

The bartender approached. "Whiskey," Saneal said. Then, glancing at Darian's glass: "Scotch," he corrected.

"He's been drinking scotch," the bartender offered.

"Then I will have the same."

Saneal leaned back and studied his friend. The Alpha looked exhausted — not physically, but in the deeper way that had no clean remedy. His shoulders were tense, his dark hair disordered, and his eyes had lost the particular sharpness that usually made an entire room straighten when he entered it.

"I tried mind-linking you," Saneal said.

No response.

"You blocked me."

Silence.

"I tried again. Then a third time."

Darian finally glanced at him. "Did you?"

"No."

Darian looked away. Saneal laughed. "There he is."

He followed Darian's gaze toward the three women across the bar. One of them smiled in Darian's direction. He didn't notice. "You know," Saneal said, "most men would be thrilled to have three beautiful she-wolves trying to get their attention."

"Good for most men," Darian said, taking another sip.

"Do you know how difficult it is to find someone more miserable than an Alpha?"

"No."

"Neither do I. I was hoping you would tell me."

Darian sighed — and Saneal raised his glass immediately. "There. That was almost emotional."

Darian slowly turned his head. "If you continue, I will have you removed from my bar."

"Your bar?"

"I am the Alpha."

"You own half the businesses in this pack."

"Then I can have you removed from half the businesses in this pack."

Saneal laughed. "Finally. I was beginning to worry."

The smile disappeared as Darian turned back to his drink. Saneal had known him too long to mistake the performance of irritation for the real thing. Before the title of Alpha had settled onto Darian's shoulders — before Saneal had become Beta — Darian had been easier to r******w he hid behind silence and dry humour and the particular blankness of a man who had decided that showing things cost more than it returned.

Saneal took another drink and made his decision. "Are you serious about Liora?"

Darian's fingers stilled around the glass.

"About the binding ceremony," Saneal added. "Are you actually going to do it?"

"Everything will be arranged as planned."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"I know."

"Then answer the question."

Darian stared at the amber liquid without speaking. The three she-wolves at the other end of the bar had stopped looking their way entirely.

"I have things to settle first," Darian said finally.

"That still wasn't an answer."

"I know."

Saneal set his glass down. "Darian."

The Alpha's jaw tightened. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth would be a good start."

They looked at each other. Neither spoke. Then Darian looked away.

"I don't have a choice."

"Everyone has a choice."

"Not an Alpha."

"That is a ridiculous thing to say."

"Is it?" Darian's voice stayed calm, which made it worse. "I have a pack that needs a Luna. And I have a son who needs a mother. Liora is the best fit — everyone loves her, she has known me almost my entire life, she understands this pack, she knows what being Luna requires."

"You are listing qualifications," Saneal said quietly.

"Because they matter."

"To the pack, perhaps. Not to you."

Darian looked down at his glass. Saneal watched him carefully — the tension in the line of his jaw, the deliberate stillness of a man holding something in rather than simply having nothing to give.

"Do you love her?"

Darian said nothing.

The question sat between them. Then Darian laughed — short and empty and wrong enough that something twisted in Saneal's chest just hearing it.

"What?"

"Forget it."

"No."

"There's nothing to discuss."

"Then why did you laugh?"

Darian looked at him, and the sadness in his eyes was clear enough that Saneal wished he hadn't asked. "It's not like the Moon Goddess is going to give me a second mate," Darian said. "So I might as well get it over with."

The words landed harder than any confession.

Saneal opened his mouth and closed it again. Before he could find anything worth saying, Darian turned toward him with the deliberate shift of a man closing a door.

"Enough about me. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Anaya."

Saneal's expression changed instantly, and Darian noticed — something close to genuine amusement entering his eyes for the first time all evening.

"Don't," Saneal said.

"Don't what?"

"Start."

"You have been avoiding the subject since she joined the pack."

"I have been busy."

"With Anaya."

Saneal picked up his drink. Darian watched him with the particular patience of a man who had just found solid ground and intended to stand on it.

"Is she the reason you keep finding excuses to visit the training grounds?"

"That is where my work is."

"You are the Beta. You have spent more time there than necessary."

"She is difficult," Saneal said finally, not quite meeting his eyes.

Darian's smile widened. "That sounds like an answer."

The pack link snapped open without warning, a warrior's voice cutting through with the particular urgency that left no room for anything else.

Alpha.