Dark Moon Rising

Chapter 11 - Megan's POV

I woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows and the scent of bacon wafting up from downstairs. For a moment, panic seized me—where was I? Then everything came rushing back. Damien. The mate bond. Midnight finally speaking to me.

Good morning, Midnight said warmly. How are you feeling?

Better than I have in months, I admitted, stretching in the comfortable bed. You?

Stronger every minute. Being near our mate is like... charging a battery that's been dead for years.

I smiled at her analogy and was about to respond when I heard voices outside. One was definitely Damien's deep baritone, but there was another voice—feminine, excited, and strangely familiar.

My heart stopped.

No. It couldn't be.

I rushed to the window and looked down at the front yard, where Damien was talking to a woman with long auburn hair and a figure I'd recognize anywhere.

"Jemma?" I whispered, pressing my face to the glass.

As if she'd heard me, the woman looked up, and I saw the face of my childhood best friend—older now, more mature, but definitely Jemma Richardson from my father's pack.

That's definitely her, Midnight confirmed, tail wagging with excitement. I can sense Starlight. She's practically vibrating with joy.

Without thinking, I threw on yesterday's clothes and raced downstairs, bursting through the front door like my life depended on it.

"Jemma!"

She spun around at the sound of my voice, and for a moment we just stared at each other. Then she was running toward me, and I was running toward her, and we collided in a tangle of arms and tears and laughter.

"Megan! Oh my God, Megan, I can't believe it's really you!" She pulled back to look at my face, her hands on my shoulders. "When Marcus told me they'd found you, I had to see for myself. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where have you been?"

"I'm okay," I said, wiping tears from my cheeks. "I'm okay now. But Jemma, what are you doing here? How did you—your pack—"

"Is gone," she said softly, her joy dimming. "Three months after you and your mom disappeared, Samuel attacked. He said we were harboring fugitives, that we'd helped you escape." Her voice hardened. "Most of us scattered to other packs. I've been with Moonhaven for four months now."

Ask her about her parents, Midnight urged gently.

"Your parents?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Safe. They made it to the Blue Moon pack with about half our people." She squeezed my hands. "Megan, when we heard you were dead—"

"Dead?"

"Samuel spread the word that he'd found your bodies. You and your mother. Said you'd been killed by rogues." Her eyes flashed with anger. "We held a memorial service and everything."

That bastard, Midnight snarled. He wanted everyone to stop looking for us.

"But you're alive," Jemma continued, her voice breaking. "You're alive and you're here and—" She suddenly stiffened, her nostrils flaring. "Megan. You smell like... like mate."

Heat flooded my cheeks as I became aware of Damien standing just a few feet away, watching our reunion with a small smile.

"Jemma," I said carefully, "meet Damien. My... my mate."

Jemma's eyes went wide as she looked between us. Then, to my surprise, she broke into a grin.

"Holy s**t, you're mated to the Alpha?" She looked at Damien with newfound respect. "Sir, I know we haven't been formally introduced, but thank you. Thank you for finding her."

"Just Damien," he said warmly. "And you don't need to thank me. Taking care of Megan is my privilege."

I like him, I heard faintly—not Midnight's voice, but another female wolf. Starlight approves.

Jemma's cheeks went pink. "Starlight says to tell you that Dorian has excellent taste."

Damien chuckled. "Tell Starlight that Dorian is very pleased to meet her."

"Um," a new voice interrupted. We all turned to see Marcus approaching, looking somewhat hesitant. "Alpha, I hate to interrupt, but we should probably discuss the situation with Samuel's latest message."

I noticed the way Marcus's eyes kept drifting to Jemma, and the way she seemed to be deliberately not looking at him.

Oh, Midnight said with interest. That's... interesting.

What?

Look at how they're trying not to look at each other. And Marcus smells like... arousal and confusion and something else...

Mate bond?

Definitely mate bond.

I studied my best friend's face and saw the telltale signs—the flush in her cheeks, the way her pulse jumped in her throat, the slightly glazed look in her eyes.

"Jemma," I said slowly. "When did you meet Marcus?"

"Four months ago when I joined the pack," she said quickly. "He's been very... helpful with my integration."

Marcus cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should take this inside? The yard isn't exactly the most secure place for this conversation."

As we walked toward the house, I hung back to walk beside Jemma.

"He's your mate, isn't he?" I whispered.

She nearly tripped over her own feet. "What? No! I mean, maybe. I mean..." She groaned. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who knows you as well as I do." I bumped her shoulder with mine. "Why haven't you told him?"

"Because he's the Beta of this pack and I'm just some refugee who lost her home! Because I don't know if I'm ready for a mate! Because—"

"Because you're scared," I finished gently.

She nodded miserably. "What if he doesn't want me? What if I'm not good enough to be a Beta's mate?"

Tell her that's ridiculous, Midnight said firmly. She's strong, smart, and brave. Any wolf would be lucky to have her.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," I said, echoing my wolf's sentiments. "Jemma, you're amazing. You're strong, you're brave, you survived the destruction of our pack and built a new life. If Marcus can't see how incredible you are, then he's an idiot."

"Says the girl who's been running from her own mate bond," Jemma shot back, but there was no heat in it.

"Touché." I sighed. "We're both disasters when it comes to this mate stuff, aren't we?"

"The worst," she agreed. Then she brightened. "But hey, at least we're disasters together again."

Inside the house, Damien led us to what looked like his office—a comfortable room with a large desk, built-in bookshelves, and a seating area with two couches facing each other.

"What's Samuel's latest message?" Damien asked as we settled in.

Marcus pulled out his phone. "It came in about an hour ago. He's demanding a meeting. Says he'll give you twenty-four hours to return his 'stolen property' or he'll consider it an act of war."

"Stolen property?" I felt rage building in my chest, and I could sense Midnight's answering fury.

"He means you," Damien said grimly. "But you're not property, and you're definitely not his."

"There's more," Marcus continued. "He's also claiming that you've been manipulated by dark magic, that someone has corrupted your memory to make you think Damien is your mate instead of him."

Jemma snorted. "That's rich, coming from him. Everyone in our pack knew he was obsessed with Megan, even before she was old enough to find her mate."

"What do you mean?" Damien's voice was dangerously quiet.

Jemma looked at me, asking permission with her eyes. When I nodded, she continued.

"He used to visit our pack regularly, supposedly for trade negotiations with Megan's father. But he always found excuses to see Megan. Brought her gifts, asked about her training, her interests." She shuddered. "It was creepy. Like he was... grooming her."

That explains so much, Midnight said darkly. The blocked connection, the obsession. He's been planning this for years.

"There's something else," I said quietly. "Midnight thinks Samuel might have been the one who blocked our connection."

"That would make sense," Marcus said. "If he could cut you off from your wolf, you'd never be able to recognize your true mate. You'd be more vulnerable to his manipulation."

"But how?" Damien asked. "That kind of magic requires serious power and knowledge."

"Maybe he had help," Jemma suggested. "There were rumors in our pack about Samuel having connections to dark witches. Nothing concrete, but..."

"We need to talk to Elena," Damien decided. "She might be able to determine exactly what kind of magic was used and how to fully break it."

Ask about the prophecy, Midnight urged. If we're going to face Samuel, we need to understand what we are.

"Damien," I said carefully. "Last night you mentioned asking Elena about prophecies. Is there something specific you think I should know?"

He exchanged a look with Marcus, who nodded slightly.

"There's an old prophecy about a wolf born under the dark moon, one who would be cut off from her wolf but destined for great power," Damien said slowly. "A wolf who would help unite the packs and bring peace to our kind."

"When were you born?" Jemma asked suddenly.

"October thirteenth. Why?"

Her face went pale. "Megan, that was a new moon. A dark moon." She looked at Damien. "She was born during a lunar eclipse. I remember because our mothers were both heavily pregnant, and the pack elders said it was a powerful omen."

Of course, Midnight said with something like resignation. We couldn't just be a normal wolf, could we?

"So you think I'm some kind of... prophetic wolf?" The idea was overwhelming. "That seems pretty far-fetched."

"Maybe," Damien said. "But it would explain why Samuel wants you so badly. If he could control a wolf with that kind of prophetic power..."

"He could control all the packs," Marcus finished grimly.

I felt suddenly dizzy. All my life, I'd just wanted to be normal. To have my wolf, to find my mate, to live peacefully somewhere safe. Now I was finding out I might be some kind of magical chosen one?

"This is too much," I said, standing abruptly. "I need some air."

I headed for the door, but Damien caught my hand.

"Megan, wait—"

"I just need a minute," I said, not looking at him. "Please."

He let me go, and I stepped out onto the back porch, trying to process everything I'd learned in the past hour.

Jemma followed me out. "You okay?"

"My best friend is alive, my childhood pack was destroyed because of me, I'm apparently some prophetic wolf from an ancient legend, and the psychopath who's been hunting me my whole life thinks he owns me." I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Just another Tuesday, right?"

"Hey." Jemma put her arm around my shoulders. "We've survived worse."

"Have we?"

"Remember when we were ten and decided to explore that cave system behind the waterfall? We got lost for eight hours, and when the search party finally found us, we were having a tea party with mushrooms we'd found growing on the cave walls."

Despite everything, I smiled. "Your mom was so mad."

"Your mom too. They made us muck out the stables for a month." She squeezed my shoulder. "My point is, we've always figured things out together. This won't be any different."

She's right, Midnight said softly. And we're not alone anymore. We have our mate, our pack, and now our best friend back. Whatever comes next, we can handle it.

"Besides," Jemma added with a grin, "if you really are some prophetic chosen one, that means I get to be best friends with the most badass wolf in existence. Think of the bragging rights."

I laughed, and this time it was real. "You're ridiculous."

"You love me anyway."

"Unfortunately."

We stood there for a moment in comfortable silence, watching the sun climb higher over the forest. Then Jemma spoke again, her voice softer.

"Megan? I'm glad you're alive. I'm glad you're safe. And I'm glad you found your mate, even if the circumstances are complicated."

"I'm glad you're alive too," I said. "And Jemma? Marcus is your mate, isn't he?"

She sighed. "Yeah. Starlight confirmed it this morning when she sensed him near you guys."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I have no idea."

"Well," I said, turning to head back inside, "I guess we'll figure that out too. Right after we deal with the whole 'prophetic wolf vs. psychotic Alpha' situation."

"Just another Tuesday," Jemma agreed, following me back into the house where our mates were waiting.