Dark Moon Rising

Chapter 9 - Megan's POV

The main house was impressive—all warm wood and stone that somehow managed to feel both grand and welcoming at the same time. As Damien led me through the front door, I was struck by how different it was from the cold, sterile pack houses I'd encountered during my months of running.

This felt like a home.

"Are you hungry?" Damien asked, guiding me toward what looked like a massive kitchen. "Sarah—she's our pack cook—always keeps food ready."

My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, betraying just how long it had been since I'd eaten a proper meal. Heat crept up my neck in embarrassment.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said with a gentle smile that made my chest flutter in ways I didn't want to examine.

As he moved around the kitchen, pulling ingredients from the refrigerator, I found myself studying him. Everything about him screamed Alpha—the way he carried himself, the unconscious authority in his voice, the power that seemed to radiate from him like heat. But there was also a gentleness in how he handled things, especially when he looked at me.

"Pancakes okay?" he asked, already mixing batter in a large bowl.

"You don't have to cook for me," I protested, though my mouth was already watering at the thought of actual food.

"I want to." He glanced at me over his shoulder. "Besides, I make excellent pancakes. Family recipe."

I watched him work, noting the easy confidence in his movements. "You cook often?"

"More than you'd think. I like taking care of people." His eyes met mine briefly. "Especially people who matter to me."

The simple statement sent warmth spreading through my chest, and I had to look away before I did something stupid like believe this could actually work.

My gaze wandered to the window above the sink, where moonlight illuminated a sprawling garden. Even in the darkness, I could make out the shapes of various plants and herbs.

"Is that a medicinal garden?" I asked, moving closer to the window.

Damien looked up from the stove, surprised. "Part of it, yes. How did you know?"

"I can see elderberry bushes and what looks like echinacea. Probably some willow bark trees too, though it's hard to tell in this light." I pressed my face closer to the glass, excitement building as I recognized more plants. "Is that maple trees along the border?"

"You know about herbal medicine?"

"I know about surviving." I turned back to him, feeling more confident talking about something I actually understood. "When you're living off the land for months, you learn what's edible, what's poisonous, and what can help when you're sick or injured."

"Show me," he said, abandoning the pancakes and moving to stand beside me at the window.

His closeness made my skin tingle, but I forced myself to focus on the garden. "See those bushes there? Elderberries. Great for immune support and fighting off infections. The flowers can be made into a syrup that's amazing on pancakes or waffles." I pointed to another section. "That's echinacea—purple coneflower. Perfect for when you feel a cold coming on."

"And the maple trees?"

"Maple syrup, obviously, but also the inner bark can be used medicinally. Good for inflammation." I found myself relaxing as I shared knowledge I'd gathered during my months alone. "There's probably sassafras root somewhere in there too—makes a tea that tastes like root beer."

Damien was staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "Where did you learn all this?"

"Trial and error, mostly. A few old books I found abandoned in various places." I shrugged. "When you can't rely on pack doctors or hospitals, you learn to heal yourself."

"You've been alone for so long," he said softly, and the pain in his voice made my chest ache.

Before I could respond, something stirred in the back of my mind. It wasn't the voice from my dreams—this was different. Warmer. More familiar.

Finally, a female voice said with obvious relief. I was beginning to think you'd never hear me.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. "What—"

"Megan?" Damien was immediately alert, his eyes scanning for threats. "What's wrong?"

Don't panic, the voice continued. It's me. Midnight. Your wolf.

"My... my wolf?" I whispered, not caring that Damien could hear me.

I've been trying to reach you for months, but something was blocking our connection. Being near our mate seems to have strengthened the bond enough for me to finally get through.

"She's talking to me," I said to Damien, wonder and disbelief warring in my voice. "My wolf. She's talking to me."

Relief flooded Damien's features. "What's her name?"

Tell him I'm Midnight, she said with what sounded like amusement. And that I approve of his wolf. Dorian has been very patient with his human's brooding.

"Midnight," I said aloud. "And apparently she knows your wolf's name is Dorian?"

Damien's eyebrows shot up. "How does she—never mind. Wolves have their own ways of communicating." He smiled, and it was brilliant. "This is incredible, Megan. Do you know what this means?"

It means we're not broken, Midnight said firmly. We never were. Someone was suppressing our connection, but being near our mate is breaking whatever hold they had on us.

"Someone was blocking our connection?" I repeated, both for Damien's benefit and because I needed to hear it myself.

Yes. I don't know how or why, but I could feel you all these months. I just couldn't reach you. It was... torturous.

Tears pricked my eyes as I realized what this meant. All those years of feeling incomplete, of thinking I was somehow defective—it hadn't been my fault. Someone had deliberately cut me off from my wolf.

"Who would do that?" I asked. "And why?"

I don't know yet, Midnight admitted. But I have some theories. We need to be careful, though. Whoever did this might realize the connection is strengthening.

"What is she saying?" Damien asked gently.

I filled him in on everything Midnight had told me, watching his expression grow darker with each word.

"Someone deliberately blocked your connection to your wolf," he said when I finished, and there was murder in his voice. "For years."

Ask him if his pack has a healer, Midnight suggested. Someone who understands wolf bonds and magical interference. We're going to need help figuring out exactly what was done to us and how to fully break it.

"Midnight wants to know if you have a pack healer," I relayed. "Someone who understands magical interference with wolf bonds."

"We do. Elena. She's... unique. Part wolf, part witch. If anyone can help us understand what happened to you, it's her." Damien moved closer, and I felt that electric connection again. "But first, let's get some food in you. You'll need your strength."

As if summoned by his words, my stomach growled again, louder this time. Damien chuckled and returned to his pancakes while I stayed by the window, marveling at this new development.

How are you feeling? I asked Midnight mentally.

Weak, but getting stronger every minute. The bond with our mate is like... sunlight after months of darkness. I can feel myself healing just by being near him.

Is he really our mate? I mean, I can feel something, but...

Oh, he's definitely ours, Midnight said with absolute certainty. And we're definitely his. His wolf, Dorian, has been calling to me since the moment they found us. It's... intense.

What does that mean for us?

It means we're finally home, Megan. After all these years of running, of feeling incomplete, we've found our other half.

The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. I'd spent so long believing I didn't deserve happiness, that I was somehow broken and unworthy of love. But now, with my wolf finally speaking to me and a mate who looked at me like I was something precious...

Maybe I could finally stop running.

"Pancakes are ready," Damien announced, setting a plate in front of me. "And I may have raided the elderberry syrup from the pantry."

I stared at the plate in amazement. The pancakes were golden and fluffy, drizzled with what looked like homemade elderberry syrup that gleamed purple in the kitchen light.

"You made elderberry syrup?" I asked.

"Sarah did, but yes. She uses the flowers from the garden you were admiring." He sat down across from me with his own plate. "Try it."

I took a bite and nearly moaned with pleasure. The pancakes were light and sweet, and the elderberry syrup added a floral complexity that was unlike anything I'd ever tasted.

"This is incredible," I said around another bite.

"I'll tell Sarah you approved." His eyes were warm as he watched me eat. "She'll want to meet you tomorrow. She's always excited to find someone else who appreciates the healing plants."

He's perfect, Midnight sighed contentedly. Strong, protective, and he cooks. We're keeping him.

Despite everything—the danger we were in, the mysteries surrounding my blocked wolf connection, the threat of war with Samuel's pack—I found myself smiling.

For the first time in months, maybe years, I felt like I might actually be okay.