Chapter 70
781 Words
The morning sunlight spilled into our room, soft and golden, and for the first time in a long while I woke up without feeling like the weight of the world was crushing me. Devon’s arm was heavy across my waist, his chest warm against my back, his breath slow and steady. I lay there for a while, letting myself enjoy the simple peace of it. It felt strange almost dangerous to feel so safe, like if I breathed too hard it would vanish.
When I finally shifted to look at him, he cracked open one eye, already smirking.
“You’re staring at me again,” he murmured, voice still rough from sleep.
“I wasn’t staring,” I lied quickly. “I was just… making sure you’re real.”
He chuckled, pulling me closer until I squealed against his chest. “You’ll never get rid of me, Addy. Not in this lifetime.”
I wanted to believe that. I really did.
We ended up dragging ourselves out of bed when Joey pounded on the door. “Training starts in ten minutes! Don’t make me drag you two lovebirds out here!” she shouted.
Devon groaned into my hair. “She’s going to ruin my morning.”
“She’s going to ruin both of ours if we’re late,” I said, swatting his chest before slipping out of bed.
By the time we got outside, Joey was already bouncing on her toes, bright and smug. “Finally. I thought you two would never crawl out of that room.”
“Careful, Joey,” Devon warned, his Alpha voice laced with humor. “You’re dangerously close to testing my patience.”
She grinned wickedly. “What patience?”
I couldn’t help laughing. It felt good, being here, being teased, being treated like I belonged.
Training was brutal but different today. Devon didn’t just stand back to watch he sparred with me, pushed me, made me think. When I nearly slipped, Joey barked encouragement instead of insults, and when sparks flickered across my skin in bursts of heat, Devon only grinned like he was proud. No one else knew, not yet, but with them I didn’t have to hide.
Hours later, exhausted and sore, I collapsed onto the grass with Joey while Devon went to dismiss the others. Joey flopped down beside me, panting hard. “You’re getting stronger, Luna,” she said, smiling up at the sky. “I almost feel sorry for anyone stupid enough to challenge you again.”
Almost.
I smiled faintly, closing my eyes against the warmth of the sun. “I don’t feel strong, Joey. I feel like I’m barely holding together most days.”
She nudged me with her shoulder. “That’s what makes you dangerous. You don’t even realize what you’re becoming.”
Devon came over then, dropping beside me and tugging me into his lap like I weighed nothing. He kissed the top of my head. “She’s right, Addy. You’re stronger than you think. Stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
For a moment, I let myself sink into the warmth of his arms, into the rare feeling of being wanted, needed, loved.
But even as I sat there, listening to Joey’s jokes and Devon’s steady heartbeat behind me, something uneasy stirred inside me.
Later that evening, after dinner with the pack, I excused myself to walk around the edges of the clearing. I wanted the fresh air, but more than that, I wanted to be alone for a moment. The night was quiet, too quiet. My skin prickled, my wolf restless though she didn’t speak. I wrapped my arms around myself and stared up at the stars.
I should have felt happy. I should have felt safe. But instead, it felt like I was standing at the edge of something big and dangerous, something waiting just beyond the treeline.
Devon found me leaning against a tree. His brows pulled together immediately. “What are you doing out here alone, Addy?”
“Just needed some air,” I said softly, forcing a smile.
He stepped closer, eyes searching mine, and for a second I thought he could see right through me. His hand slid up to cup my cheek. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine,” I whispered, though I wasn’t. Something about the darkness pressed heavy on my chest, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.
Devon kissed me then, slow and grounding, pulling me back to him. “Whatever it is, I’ll protect you,” he promised.
I nodded, but inside I couldn’t shake the thought that maybe this happiness was just the calm before another storm.
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