Never Free

Ch. 14 The Gown

The flowers bloomed early that year.

Amber said it was a good omen. That nature was aligning, awakening, and preparing for something sacred. Xochi didn’t know about that. All she knew was that everything looked brighter on the outside and heavier on the inside.

Amber had lightened Xochi’s chore list a month earlier to officially begin her Luna lessons. Mornings were spent inside with Amber lecturing her on how to sit, how to stand, what to say, and when to say it. Xochi was expected to mimic her in every way. She would sit perfectly straight while Amber spoke, her spine aching from stillness, her jaw clenched so tight it made her teeth throb.

But this morning was different. Every window was open, and every room was buzzing with energy. The courtyard had been swept. New linens were aired. And Mira was sketching dress designs on the dining room table like it was something religious.

Amber was planning a Luna ceremony.

Not next week. Not next month, but next year—after Xochi’s shift.

“It takes time to make perfection,” Amber chirped, gliding across the room. “And this ceremony must be perfect. The bloodline demands it.”

Xochi didn’t argue, but her stomach clenched.

The shift was supposed to come soon.

Sixteen. That’s when it happened for wolves. Everyone said so. And though Xochi had never felt the stirring inside her, never had a dream or ache or pull, she didn’t question it. She just waited, quietly.

She waited while Amber measured her for gowns. She waited while elders nodded approval and offered blessings. She waited while Mira whispered, “You’ll look beautiful in your Luna gown.”

And inside, something pressed against her ribs like panic without a name.

To make matters worse, Brandon had gotten bolder.

He didn’t ask anymore before touching her—his hand would slide around her waist, across her lower back, up her arm. He even kissed the side of her neck in front of Mira once. No one said a word.

He started showing up more often when she was alone, offering to walk her places, bringing her gifts she didn’t want.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” he told her once, in the hallway outside her room. “Everyone expects it. You could at least try.”

“Try what,” she asked.

“To want this,” he said. “To want me.” He leaned in close and pulled at her hips.

She shoved him away and stared at him.

“I don’t,” she hissed. He leaned in even closer, voice lowering, his lips near her ear.

“If you don’t start playing along, I’m going to have to tell Amber the truth.” Xochi’s heart jumped.

“What truth?”

“That you’re pushing me away,” he whispered softly, dangerously. “I’ll tell her you’ve been cold, ungrateful. That you’re broken. You think she’ll still keep you after that?”

She didn’t answer.

She just stepped around him and walked away.

Things with Byron hadn’t gotten any better, either. He had grown distant.

He trained more. Ate less. Snapped once at Ms. Kendry and didn’t apologize. He avoided Xochi completely now. She didn’t think it was out of anger, but things were still strange. There was something tight and nervous in his posture. Something fraying at the edges of who he used to be.

She passed him once in the hall, their shoulders brushing, and he flinched like her skin burned him.

She turned, but he was already gone.

Something’s happening to him, she thought, but she didn’t know what it was.

That night, she found a length of pale silver silk laid across her bed, tucked carefully beside her pillow. At first, she thought it was moonlight, but it was only a note carefully pinned to the silk in Mira’s careful hand:

For the Luna gown. We’ll start it soon.

Xochi sat on the edge of the bed and stared at it for a long time.

It wasn’t just a dress.

It felt like a noose around her neck.