Reunited
1666 Words
LUNA
Jade doesn’t hesitate—she whips around and sprints into the forest, paws slamming into the earth so fast my stomach lurches. My mind is still in that room with the red-eyed wolves closing in, but Jade is already fleeing, instincts blazing.
Engines roar behind us, vehicles revving, wolves snarling, the whole world chasing us.
They’re hunting us like game.
Jade, our scent is masked, right?!
She gives a sharp mental nod and veers off the trail, cutting into thicker brush. I don’t understand how she even sees in this chaos—dark trees, broken moonlight, snapping branches—but she does. I just hang onto her focus, letting her body do what mine can’t.
Before they can catch up, we shift. It hurts—bones grinding, heat crackling beneath skin—yet somehow I’m upright, naked, bleeding, trembling, a human in a predator’s world.
I drag myself toward a tree with a hollow trunk, half collapsing inside it. I grab dirt and leaves, smearing them across my arms and legs and face, praying the scent of blood dulls under mud. I can hear my breath—ragged gasps like I’m drowning air instead of breathing it.
I'm exhausted. So exhausted.
My body feels like wet sand, too heavy to move, too fragile to fight.
I don’t know how you’re doing this much cardio, Jade. Honestly, good job.
Her reply is acidic: If someone had spent more time training as a wolf instead of being oblivious, we wouldn’t be in this mess.
God, she’s infuriating. I pinch my lips shut, refusing to argue. Survival first. Therapy later.
Jade, I’m not the enemy right now. Can you still smell them? Or HIM?
She sniffs the air, slow and deliberate.
Not anymore. Which is a problem. I can feel our bond being pulled to him, but not in a good way.
My stomach drops. What the hell does that mean?
Her voice darkens: Luna, we might have two mates: a mate and an anti-mate.
I would think an anti-mate isn’t a mate at all.
She doesn't have time to answer—paws pound outside the tree, heavy, fast. Bones crack, shifting sounds shredding the night.
I stop breathing.
Two wolves—men—shifting back to human close enough that I hear skin scrape bark.
“We’re probably safe from him here, right?”
His voice is rough, like he swallowed gravel, which makes his nerves sound almost ridiculous.
“Yeah. As long as Damien doesn’t check the mind-link. He’s creepy as hell.”
Him. His name is Damien.
I feel Jade snarl deep in me, silent but vicious.
“Damien needs to chill out about this girl. He knows we know he’s not actually selling her. Was that a show for the old pack?”
“No, I heard her parents were gonna buy her back. But now that he’s attached to her, there’s no hope. Especially with his resources.”
My blood chills. Selling? My parents? What are they implying?
I feel Jade coil in fury.
My parents. Buying me back.
Like I’m merchandise.
“Well, we should keep searching. If we don’t find her, he’ll murder us.”
Wolves shift again, fur scraping ground, then sprint away.
I let out the breath I’ve held so long it hurts. My ribs feel too small for lungs.
But then—another set of paws. Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.
Every instinct says predator.
But Jade leans forward, curious, not afraid.
Massive black paws stop inches from the trunk. Bigger than any wolf I’ve ever seen.
Our heartbeat drums against ribs—thrill, fear, recognition tangled together so violently I can’t tell them apart.
Jade pushes me mentally: Look.
I lean out of the tree, inch by inch.
And see him.
A wolf the size of a bear, all midnight shadows and muscle, regal and terrifying and beautiful in a way that hurts to look at.
He snaps his head toward me, eyes catching mine—
and the growl cuts off.
He shrinks—bones compressing, fur retracting until he fits inside the hollow. Barely. He presses into me, all heat and strength, and the world tilts—
Sparks. Everywhere. Like static lightning under my skin.
“Mal?” I whisper.
He licks my arm, soft. Comforting. And that’s all it takes—
I break.
Tears stream down my face, no permission, no control, just raw relief ripping the tension from me. I bury my face in his fur and tremble.
You’re safe, a voice says in my head. Deep. Calm.
I’m here with you.
Wait—are you not Mal?
A wolf’s chuckle echoes in my skull:
We haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Shadow. Mal’s wolf.
Jade howls with delight inside me, and I almost laugh into his fur, delirious from adrenaline and exhaustion.
You need to sleep. I’ll watch over you. Your wounds make me unhappy.
Shadow stretches out, positioning himself between me and the opening, guarding us. I curl against him, arms tangled in fur, body sinking into warmth like a lifeline.
Sleep takes me fast and heavy, like falling into black water.
-----
I jolt awake, chest heaving.
Shadow is gone. I’m alone, shivering, covered in dirt, leaves, dried blood, and—
Is that a jacket?
I stare at it, stunned. Shadow put a jacket over me?
The tree hollow suddenly feels smaller, lonelier, terrifyingly silent.
Footsteps crunch outside.
I clutch the jacket around me, heart leaping to my throat.
“Luna, I can’t fit in there in my human form. Can you come out?”
Mal.
God. Mal.
I scramble out of the trunk, practically launching myself into him. He catches me, arms locking around me as I wrap myself around him like I’m afraid he’ll vanish.
“I’m so glad to see you,” I sob into his neck.
He holds me tighter, voice thick.
“I’m so, so sorry. How badly are you hurt?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, because I honestly don’t feel anything but alive.
He cups my chin, eyes darting over my face like he’s memorizing every inch—checking for bruises, cuts, broken pieces. His touch is gentle, reverent, and I melt into it because being seen feels foreign and glorious.
“Well, let’s get you home,” he murmurs.
I sink into his hand, drunk on safety.
He sets me down, zips the jacket tight around me, and we walk hand in hand through the forest.
My legs ache. My breathing shakes. Every sound makes my heart twitch.
“Aren’t you worried about the wolves chasing me?” I ask.
“No. I came with warriors. They’re clearing the house.”
A cold memory slams me. Damien’s grin. His tongue on my blood. Bones rearranging.
“Good to know the masking spray doesn’t hide blood,” I say. “Because there was a lot of it.”
Mal whips me around so fast my neck cracks.
Ow.
He yanks the jacket open, eyes scanning every inch of me. He’s not gentle—he’s frantic, demanding proof that I’m whole.
But everything is healed.
Not scars. Not bruises. Nothing.
He pauses, shock breaking across his features, then realizes—
I’m naked.
He doesn’t leer, doesn’t joke, just silently slides the jacket back on, zips it, and holds my hand again.
We walk in silence, both staring straight ahead like eye contact might detonate something.
“What happens when someone tastes your blood?” I ask.
He stiffens. Eyes darken.
“Well, that depends. There are other creatures besides werewolves. And depending on who consumes it, blood can be intoxicating. Like a drug. It’s one reason Shadow wants to mark you.”
“Cool. Not asking what marking is,” I mutter.
“How many mates can a wolf have?”
Mal stops.
Turns.
Growls—low, dangerous, territorial.
“You have me. That’s it.”
“Mal,” I press, soft but firm. “Answer the question.”
Shadow snarls inside him, rattling his breath. I place my hand on his cheek, grounding him.
“I don’t want anyone but you,” I whisper. “You’re my mate.”
Warmth blooms across his expression, subtle but undeniable.
“I’m… overprotective,” he admits.
“No kidding.”
We walk again, quiet, until the cold bites at my skin.
“We need to talk about what happened,” I say.
“I thought we were,” he mutters.
“Mal, you abandoned me. Right when I found out I’m a werewolf.”
He winces, shame flickering.
“My family has a… tradition.” He grimaces. “New wolves go through a kidnapping simulation to test instincts. We always use other packs. Cameras everywhere to monitor reactions. I didn’t know they were doing it now. I would have stopped it.”
“And the helicopter?” I ask.
He sighs.
“We’re wealthy. We take care of our people. If we’d known you existed sooner…”
“Mal, nobody knew. Not you, not your family, not even me. My parents hid everything.”
He opens his mouth—
I shut it with a look.
“No buts. We deal with what’s next.”
We walk, fingers intertwined, heat spreading through me like wildfire.
Eventually, the trees thin, revealing a clearing the size of a football field—lined with massive log houses, lanterns glowing like distant stars.
People gather, forming a crowd. Dozens. Then more.
My stomach knots.
I don’t know how I feel about this, Luna, Jade mutters.
I don’t feel great either. But Mal knows what he’s doing.
We step toward them—
toward our future—
toward a pack that doesn’t know me, or my scars, or Damien, or the poison I grew up on.
I tighten my grip on Mal’s hand.
He looks down at me, eyes soft.
Present.
Mine.
And together, we walk toward the people who will soon become our world.
Whether we’re ready or not.
- Writer
