Moonlit Case Files : The Exiled Wolf

Chapter 8 : Dead Healer

For once, Samira had a normal day.

No cases. No monsters. No mysterious wolves in the woods. Just college. Classes. Notes. A professor who talked too fast and a lecture hall that smelled like old coffee.

It was boring. It was wonderful.

She met Robin for lunch at the campus café—a small, overcrowded place with bad lighting and surprisingly good sandwiches. Robin was already at a table, two trays in front of her, waving like Samira had been gone for years instead of three hours.

"You're late," Robin said.

"I'm five minutes early."

"Exactly. Late." Robin pushed a tray toward her. "I got you the turkey club. And a brownie. You looked like you needed a brownie."

Samira sat down. "I always need a brownie."

"True." Robin studied her. "You look tired."

"I'm always tired."

"More tired than usual." Robin tilted her head. "What's going on with you?"

Samira took a bite of her sandwich to buy time. "Nothing."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying."

"You're definitely lying." Robin leaned forward. "You've been weird for weeks. Disappearing. Coming home late. Looking like you haven't slept in days."

Samira chewed slowly.

"Samira." Robin's voice was softer now. "I'm not trying to pry. But I'm your roommate. Your friend. And I'm worried about you."

Samira set her sandwich down.

"I'm fine," she said. "Really. I've just been... busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Things."

"What kind of things?"

"The kind I can't talk about."

Robin was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded.

"Okay."

Samira blinked. "Okay?"

"Okay. I'm not going to push." Robin picked up her sandwich. "But I'm here. When you're ready."

Samira stared at her.

"You're not going to ask more questions?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend. And friends don't push." Robin took a bite. "Also, I'm pretty sure whatever you're doing is either illegal or dangerous, and I don't want to be an accessory."

Samira laughed. It felt good. Real.

"It's not illegal."

"Good. Dangerous?"

"...Maybe."

"Great." Robin grinned. "I always wanted a friend with a dangerous secret."

Samira shook her head. "You're ridiculous."

"I know." Robin nudged her foot under the table. "But you love me."

Samira didn't answer. But she smiled.

---

They spent the rest of lunch talking about nothing.

Robin's new project for her design class. The cute barista who'd smiled at her three times. The fact that the campus library had a ghost—not a real one, just a rumor, but Robin was convinced.

"I'm telling you," Robin said, "the third floor is haunted. The lights flicker. The books fall off the shelves."

"Maybe it's just an old building."

"Maybe. But also maybe it's a ghost." Robin shrugged. "I'm going to investigate. You could help me. With your mysterious detective skills."

Samira froze. "What detective skills?"

"The ones you definitely don't have because you're definitely just a pre-med student." Robin winked. "Relax. I'm joking. Mostly."

Samira exhaled.

"Mostly," she muttered.

Robin laughed.

---

After lunch, they walked across campus together.

The sun was out. The trees were green. Students sat on the grass, laughing and talking and living their lives. Normal lives. Human lives.

Samira wondered what it would be like to be one of them. To not know about monsters. To not have a secret life. To not spend every night worrying about werewolves and witches and missing girls.

It seemed peaceful. Simple.

Boring.

I'd hate it, she thought.

"You're doing it again," Robin said.

"Doing what?"

"Thinking too hard. You get this look. Like you're solving a puzzle in your head."

Samira blinked. "I do?"

"All the time." Robin linked her arm through Samira's. "You need to relax. Have fun. Be a normal college student for once."

"I am a normal college student."

"Liar." Robin steered her toward the student union. "Come on. There's a movie night in the lounge. Bad snacks. Worse movie. It'll be fun."

Samira hesitated.

"Please?" Robin gave her a look. The kind that said I'm not going to let this go.

"Fine," Samira said. "But if the movie is terrible, I'm leaving."

"Deal."

---

The movie was terrible.

Some low-budget horror film about a haunted sorority house. Bad acting. Worse special effects. The kind of movie that was so bad it was almost good.

Robin loved it.

She screamed at the jump scares. Threw popcorn at the screen. Narrated the characters' terrible decisions. "Don't go in the basement! You're in a sorority, not a Scooby-Doo episode!"

Samira laughed more than she had in weeks.

It was nice. Normal. Just two friends watching a bad movie and eating too much popcorn.

For a few hours, she forgot about Kaelen. About Lily. About the pack. About all of it.

She was just Samira. College student. Friend. Normal person.

It was exactly what she needed.

---

After the movie, they walked home.

The night was cool. The stars were out. Robin was still buzzing from the movie, recounting her favorite terrible moments.

"—and then she said, 'I'm not afraid of you!' And the ghost just—" Robin mimed a dramatic ghost gesture. "—boooo! And she screamed and ran and fell down the stairs. Classic."

"Classic," Samira agreed.

They reached the apartment. Robin unlocked the door. They stepped inside.

"So," Robin said, kicking off her shoes, "did you have fun?"

Samira paused.

"Yeah," she said. "I did."

"Good." Robin smiled. "You needed it."

She disappeared into her room.

Samira stood in the living room for a moment. Then she walked to her own room. Opened the door. Looked at the corkboard.

a sticky note with a cave near the old mill.

Kaelen.

She thought about him. Alone in the cave. Stitched up. Hair cut. Clean.

I should visit him again, she thought. Check on the stitches. Bring more food.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she was just Samira.

She closed the door. Got ready for bed. Lay down.

And for the first time in weeks, she fell asleep without thinking about monsters.

---

The next morning, Samira went to The Witching Hour.

Maeve was behind the counter, polishing a mug that was already clean. She looked up when Samira entered. Smiled.

"Morning. Coffee?"

"Please." Samira slid onto a stool. "And information."

Maeve poured. "What kind of information?"

"Healers. Supernatural ones. I need a name and an address."

Maeve set the cup down. "For you?"

"For a case."

Maeve studied her. "You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You are. But I'm not going to push." Maeve reached under the counter and pulled out a small notebook. Flipped through it. "There's a healer on the east side. Name's Elara. She's a witch. Specializes in supernatural medicine. Werewolves, vampires, shifters. Doesn't ask questions."

"Address?"

Maeve wrote it down. Slid it across the counter. "Be careful. Elara is... particular. She doesn't like strangers."

"I'll be fine."

"That's what they all say."

---

The address led to a small house on the edge of town.

It was quiet. Too quiet. The windows were dark. The door was slightly ajar.

Samira's instincts kicked in.

She pushed the door open slowly. Stepped inside.

The house was a mess. Overturned furniture. Broken glass. Books scattered across the floor.

And in the center of the room, a body.

A woman. Middle-aged. Dark hair. Sightless eyes staring at the ceiling.

Elara.

Samira knelt beside her. Checked for a pulse. Nothing. The body was cold. She'd been dead for hours. Maybe a day.

Damn.

Samira stood up. Scanned the room. Looked for clues. Anything.

The healer's bag was open. Supplies scattered. A shelf of potions was knocked over. Glass everywhere.

But the weirdest thing was the smell.

Not blood. Not death.

Something else. Something animal.

Wolf.

Samira's heart pounded.

She pulled out her phone. No signal. Of course not. She'd have to go outside. Call Maeve. Call someone.

She turned toward the door.

And froze.

Kaelen was standing in the doorway.

His eyes were gold. His face was pale. His hands were shaking.

"What are you doing here?" Samira asked.

"I could ask you the same thing." His voice was rough. "Elara. Is she—"

"Dead."

Kaelen closed his eyes. His jaw tightened.

"You knew her," Samira said. It wasn't a question.

"She was helping me." Kaelen opened his eyes. "With my shifting. She was trying to fix it."

"You've been seeing a healer? Behind my back?"

"I didn't want to bother you." He stepped inside. Looked at the body. His expression was pained. "She was kind. She didn't ask questions. She just... helped."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Two days ago. She said she was close to a breakthrough. She said she'd figured out what was wrong with me." Kaelen's voice cracked. "And now she's dead."

Samira looked at the body. Then at Kaelen. Then at the room.

The smell. The wolf.

"We need to figure out who did this," she said.

Kaelen looked at her. "You think I did it?"

"No." Samira met his eyes. "But someone did. And whoever it was, they're still out there."

She pulled out her phone. Still no signal.

"We need to go," she said. "Now. Before someone finds us here."

Kaelen nodded.

They walked out of the house together.

Samira's mind raced. A dead healer. A wolf's scent. A pack that didn't trust her.

What the hell is going on?