THE LUNA HE THREW AWAY

Alpha's Chase

The bolt hit Kael in the shoulder. Not me. Him. He threw himself sideways, not to avoid the bolt but right into its path. The silver tip sank just below his collarbone. He made a sound I’d never heard from him before. It was low and animalistic, but not like a wolf. It sounded more human. He went down on one knee. Serena stared at him. For one second, she looked like she hadn’t planned for this either. That second was all I needed. I didn’t use the power. I just moved. I took three steps across the clearing and drove my elbow into her jaw so hard I felt it in my teeth. She turned, and the crossbow spun out of her hands into the mud. Without thinking, I kicked it farther into the dark. Serena looked up at me from the ground, blood on her lip, and for the first time since I’d known her, she looked genuinely afraid. “Don’t,” I said. That’s all. She didn’t move. I turned around. Kael was still on one knee, holding his shoulder. His gold eyes watched me with an expression I couldn’t name. The bolt was still in him. Silver doesn’t just hurt wolves; it burns through tissue and slows healing. He would be down for a while. “You jumped in front of it,” I said. “Yes.” “Why?” He didn’t answer right away. The gold in his eyes had faded, and the silver was already wearing him down. He looked exhausted, like someone who had relied on pride and stubbornness for so long he’d forgotten how to stop. “Because she was going to kill you,” he said. “You tried to put me in a Silver Cell.” “I know.” “You rejected me in front of a thousand people.” “I know, Lira.” I stood over him and waited for the anger to come back. It didn’t. Instead, something heavier settled inside me: a flat, tired grief that stays quiet but never really leaves. I’d loved him since I was five. That kind of feeling doesn’t just go away, no matter how much hurt sits on top of it. But woven through the grief was a sharp sense of betrayal, threading tight through every memory. Kael, the boy who taught me how to track moss on stones and who held my hand when I drowned in nightmares, was the same one who locked me away. The ache in my chest felt fresh, like the aftertaste of metal in my mouth after biting my tongue, sharp and bitter. I remembered the weight of Kael's palm on mine, years ago, cold from the river, pulling me out, breathing hard and soaked in tears. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to forget what he meant. But I couldn’t. Not even now, when I should have been thinking only of escape, only of duty. My legs itched to run, but I stayed rooted, torn between my vow to Fen and something older, deeper. I knew I owed myself distance, owed Fen and the others my loyalty, but my heart kept circling back to this: the pain, the history, the pull between what I wanted and what I had to do. I wished I could let it all go. “The bolt needs to come out,” I said finally. “I’m aware.” “I’m not doing it because we’re okay.” “I know that too.” I crouched down, grabbed the shaft, and pulled. He made that sound again, teeth clenched and with a sharp exhale, and then it was out, the tip dark with his blood. I dropped it in the mud. Fen showed up to my left, just as I expected. He looked at Kael like someone looking at a problem they’d already solved. “He needs to leave,” Fen said. “Working on it.” “No.” Fen’s voice shifted. “I mean right now. Look east.” I looked. The sky had changed from gray to red. It wasn’t the red of sunrise but a strange, heavy red, like something burning just over the ridge. Then I heard hoofbeats. The kind that meant a crowd. “How many?” I asked. “Enough.” Fen’s tattoos moved quickly now, twisting up toward his neck. I’d learned that meant he was scared, even if his face stayed calm. “The Great Alpha felt the bond break. He’s been tracking it since the Hall.” Kael heard that and tried to stand. Got halfway up before his legs disagreed with him. “My father,” he said. It wasn’t a question. “Your father,” Fen confirmed. Kael’s expression changed. It wasn’t fear, but more like someone remembering something they wanted to forget. “He won’t stop at me. He’ll burn the whole Growth if he thinks it’s hiding a Sovereign.” “I know.” “Lira.” Kael looked at me, and for the first time, he wasn’t looking at the power or the threat or the problem. He just looked at me. “He’s going to try to kill you. Not contain you. Kill you. He doesn’t believe in Silver Cells for things he can’t understand.” “Then I guess we have something in common,” I said. “I don’t believe in them either.” The hoofbeats got louder. I could see torchlight now, flickering between the trees at the ridge. Fen grabbed my arm. “We move. Now. There’s a place deeper in the growth called the Hollow, where the silver in the ground scrambles scent trails. Even the Great Alpha’s trackers can’t follow us there.” “And him?” I looked at Kael. Fen’s jaw stiffened. “He slows us down.” “He took a silver bolt for me.” “That was his choice.” “Fen.” There was a long pause. The torches were closer now. Serena stayed very still in the mud, knowing that whatever happened next, she mattered least in this clearing. “Fine,” Fen said. “But he carries himself.” I looked at Kael. He was already on his feet, still holding his shoulder, jaw set. Stubborn. Always so stubborn. “Can you run?” I asked. “Can you stop asking me questions and just go?” I almost smiled. Almost. We ran. The forest closed around us quickly, the trees shutting behind us like a door. I heard the riders reach the clearing we’d just left—shouts, the rattle of armor, and a voice barking orders in a tone that made my skin go cold. Deep. Absolute. The voice of a man who had never been told no. Kael’s father.