I Never Meant to Be His Luna

Chapter 4

Lyra had seen prettier garages.

The Hollow Ridge one was big, bright, and cluttered in a way that said people actually used it. Tool chests lined one wall, a half-disassembled ATV sat in the middle, and a forest of monitor cables sprouted from a desk in the corner.

“At least you’re not trying to run border security off a windows 98 box,” Lyra said, dropping her bag on the nearest clear surface. “That’s something.”

“That hurts me personally,” a voice said from behind the monitors.

A lanky guy with dark curls and big glasses popped up, clutching a mug that said I READ YOUR ERROR LOGS. His wolf-scent was young, sharp, threaded with caffeine.

“Lyra, meet Theo,” Cassian said. “Theo, this is the reason you still have a job.”

Theo blinked. “I thought she was a myth.”

Lyra arched a brow. “Disappointed I’m real?”

He pushed his glasses up. “Mildly terrified, actually. Here.” He shoved a tablet toward her. “Last three months of logs.”

She skimmed, scrolling with her thumb. “Random drops, camera flickers, false positives… You ignored this for how long?”

“You were busy,” Theo muttered.

Cassian leaned on the workbench, watching her. “We thought it was just age. Salt air’s hell on wiring.”

“The salt air didn’t rewrite your firmware,” Lyra said. “Some of this looks like deliberate probing. Low-level. Careful.”

Theo winced. “Knew you were going to say that.”

“Good,” she said. “Means you’re not completely hopeless.”

The overhead speaker crackled. “Cassian, we’ve got movement on the north ridge. Not enough for a full call-out, but it’s weird,” Jace’s voice said. “You might want eyes.”

Cassian straightened. “Copy. I’ll take a truck.”

Lyra handed the tablet back. “Show me on the map.”

Theo tapped a sector. A few blips danced near the edge of coverage, then vanished. Too clean.

Lyra’s wolf pricked her ears. “That’s not random hikers.”

Cassian was already grabbing keys. “Stay here, go through the rest with Theo. I’ll—”

“I’m coming,” Lyra said.

He stopped. “You’re not on patrol.”

“I’m not asking for a badge,” she said. “You get in trouble out there, I’d rather see it on a screen in real time than read a report over your corpse.”

Theo made a faint strangled noise.

Cassian’s jaw worked. “You don’t shift with my people. You stay in the truck unless I say otherwise.”

“Relax, Reid. I’m very good at sitting in vehicles and judging.” She grabbed her bag again. “Let’s go.”

The north ridge road was narrower than she liked, trees pressing close. Late sun slanted through the branches, turning the air green-gold. The storm had rinsed the sky clean.

“Movement was here,” Cassian said, one hand on the wheel, the other on the radio. “We’ll park, go on foot.”

“Your cameras miss this stretch a lot,” Lyra said. “Dead zone?”

“Shouldn’t be.” His eyes flicked to the treeline. “That’s the problem.”

He pulled into a small dirt pullout. The engine ticked as it cooled.

“Stay,” he said.

Lyra snorted. “I’m not a pup.”

“Exactly why I asked.” He opened his door. “Lock it behind me.”

She watched him shift as he hit the tree line—a smooth ripple of muscle and bone, dark fur spilling over skin. His wolf shook once, then melted into the shadows.

Lyra locked the doors and slid into the passenger seat, grabbing the portable monitor from the dash. The handheld linked to the nearest cameras, grainy black-and-white flickering to life.

For a few minutes, there was nothing but wind in the trees and the slow sweep of branches.

Then a shape moved at the very edge of the frame. Big. Wrong angle for a deer.

Her wolf stiffened.

“Cassian,” she said into the radio. “Ten o’clock from your last position. You’re not alone out there.”