The Luna's Chance

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

The crunch of dried leaves underfoot is the only sound in the clearing as I approach Roman, the Alpha of the Stone Pack. My heart hammers in my chest, not just from the exertion of the run that brought me here but from the weight of what I'm about to disclose. Roman's steady gaze meets mine, the deep brown of his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and strength.

"Roman," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, "I need to tell you something." I hesitate, the words sticking in my throat. It's now or never. "My pack... they kicked me out."

His brow furrows, a silent prompt for me to continue.

"It was a misunderstanding about my abilities," I say, each word tumbling out faster than the last. "They thought I was dangerous, that I couldn't control it. But it's not true. I've never hurt anyone—"

"Slow down, Lane," he interrupts, his voice calm and commanding. The air between us feels charged with an energy I can't quite name. "Tell me everything."

So I do. I tell him about the first time I discovered my gift, how emotions would seep into my skin like rain into the earth. How I'd feel the joy, pain, and fear of others as if they were my own. I recount the incidents, the misunderstandings, the accusations. I bare the raw truth of my isolation, leaving nothing unsaid.

Roman listens without interruption, his expression unreadable. When I finish, the silence stretches between us until it feels like a tangible thing.

"Your abilities," he finally says, "they're unique. And misunderstood, but not by everyone." He takes a step closer, the intensity in his gaze unrelenting. "You don't have to be alone with this, Lane. My mother was an empath healer. I know the value of what you can do."

I feel a surge of hope, tempered with caution. "What are you saying?"

"I'm offering you asylum with my pack," Roman states firmly. "We pride ourselves on justice and kindness. You are more than just a new member of the pack. You'll be safe with us, and we'll help you understand your abilities—turn them into a strength, not a source of fear."

His promise hangs in the air, solid and reassuring. The idea of belonging somewhere again, being accepted despite the turmoil that seems to follow me, it's almost too much to take in. But looking into Roman's unwavering eyes, I feel the stirrings of trust, fragile but growing stronger by the second.

"Thank you," I manage to say, the relief evident in my voice. "I accept your offer."

Roman nods, a decision set in stone. He extends a hand to me, not just as the Alpha, but as an ally, and I take it. His grip is firm and warm, an unspoken pledge that this time, things will be different.

The warmth from Roman's hand courses through me, an anchor in the turmoil of my thoughts. As our fingers entwine, I notice the way his thumb gently brushes against my skin, a silent message of comfort and solidarity. There's a tenderness to his touch that belies the strength in those hands, hands that have fought for justice, that now vow to protect me.

"Roman," I begin, my voice a whisper lost in the space between us, "I don't know how to thank you—"

"Shh," he interrupts, his other hand coming up to lightly cup my cheek. Time seems to halt, the world around us fading into insignificance. It's just Roman and me, and the electricity that hums in the air. His gaze holds mine, deep pools of brown that reflect a soul as fierce in compassion as it is in battle. The connection feels like a live wire, sparking a sensation so intense it borders on overwhelming.

"Did you feel that?" I ask, breathless, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.

His lips curve into a half-smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges with a knowing look. "Yes," he answers, his voice low and resonant. "It's not uncommon when two wolves who are so in sync connect. Our energies intertwine, resonate."

"Like harmony," I murmur, the concept dawning on me. A harmony that I've been missing, have yearned for without even realizing it.

"Exactly," Roman says. With reluctance, he drops his hand from my face, but the current lingers, a promise of what's to come.

"Your abilities," he starts again, shifting back to the reason we're here. "They're a gift, Lane, not a curse. You've been forced to suppress them, but no more." He steps back slightly, giving me room to breathe, yet I find myself missing his proximity. "My mother, she had a gift similar to yours. An empath healer who taught me much before she passed. Although I do not possess the same abilities, I watched her work on others for years."

I swallow hard, the seed of hope within me sprouting further at his words. To learn, to grow—to harness this power that has been both my bane and my birthright.

"Would you let me help you?" Roman asks, his question hanging in the crisp air like a sacred vow. "To understand your abilities, nurture them?"

The gravity of his offer isn't lost on me. This is more than asylum; this is a chance at a future where I'm not just tolerated but valued. Where my gifts can flourish and be used for the good of the pack, for something larger than myself.

"Yes," I say, the word more conviction than I've felt in ages. "I want that. I need that."

"Good." The word is simple, but in Roman's mouth, it is a decree. His smile is full now, and it lights up his entire face, igniting something warm inside of me.

"Then we begin," Roman declares, determination etched into every syllable. "Together."