The Luna's Chance

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

The forest stands silent around us, a stark contrast to the tension that crackles in the space between Finn and me. He leans against an ancient oak, his arms crossed over his chest, his green eyes boring into mine with an intensity that feels like it can set the underbrush on fire. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.

"Care to explain what that stunt was back there?" Finn's voice is deceptively calm, but there's a sharp edge to it that wasn't there before.

I clench my fists at my sides, recalling the moment of chaos when I'd instinctively sided with Roman during the council meeting, contradicting Finn. "I spoke my mind, that's all."

"Your mind," he scoffs, pushing off from the tree and stepping closer. "Or Roman's influence?"

His words sting, and a flush creeps up my cheeks. Roman, with his justice and kindness, has always been a beacon of certainty. But Finn, Finn with his ruthless reputation and unexpected tenderness, complicates everything.

"Roman has nothing to do with this," I lie, poorly. The truth is, it’s only been a month since Vee and I arrived and yet Roman's presence looms large in every decision I make, every emotion I feel. And yet here I am, arguing with Finn, feeling more alive than I have in years.

"Doesn't he?" Finn challenges, closing the gap between us until I can see the flecks of gold in his green eyes.

My pulse quickens, and I hate that he affects me this way. I want to deny it, to push him away, but something magnetic pulls at me, urging me closer.

"Stop trying to get under my skin, Finn," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Who says I'm trying?" He tilts his head, a smirk playing on his lips. It's infuriating how he can be both a warrior and a charmer in the span of a single heartbeat.

"Because you're good at it," I retort, taking a step back, needing space to breathe, to think.

"Maybe," Finn concedes, his gaze softening. "But only because you let me."

I swallow hard, torn between wanting to escape and wanting to delve deeper into whatever this dangerous dance is between us. I've felt Finn's tenderness, glimpses of a man very different from the one who commands fear on the battlefield. It's unsettling how quickly my defenses crumble under his gaze, how my body seems to gravitate toward him despite my better judgment.

"Is this about Roman or about us?" Finn asks, his voice low and earnest now.

"Us?" The word feels too big, too fraught with implications I'm not ready to face. "There is no 'us.'"

"Isn't there?" His question lingers in the air, a challenge I'm not equipped to answer.

Silence stretches between us as I grapple with the emotions warring inside me. I'm drawn to Roman's steadfast nature, the safety and comfort he represents. But Finn...Finn ignites something wild within me, something untamed and unpredictable.

"Roman..." I start, but the words catch in my throat.

"Roman isn't here, Lane." Finn's voice is gentle, coaxing. "It's just you and me."

And as much as I want to deny it, he's right. Roman is not here to anchor me, to guide my choices, and in his absence, my connection with Finn takes on a life of its own, confusing and undeniable.

“Tell me,” I say. “You said you’ve seen my futures before. You—“

“No.” He looks away.

I feel my eyes narrow. “Finn. You saw something important, didn’t you?”

"Are you sure you want to know?" he asks, without looking back at me.

"Yes," I reply, though my voice trembles with uncertainty. What am I doing? Seeking answers about my future from someone who feels more like an enigma with each passing moment?

"Very well." Finn's gaze meets mine, and there's a seriousness there that chills me. "The threads of fate are fickle, Lane. They twist and turn in ways we can't always predict or understand."

I nod, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. I'm not sure what I expect—grand adventures, perhaps, or a destiny entwined with love. But when Finn speaks again, his words are like a cold gust snuffing out a candle's flame.

"Your path... It's fraught with solitude, Lane. You'll walk it alone, never quite fitting in anywhere you go. A life of near misses and what-ifs." His voice is steady, but there's something in his eyes that I can't decipher.

"Is that truly what you see?" I whisper, the disappointment heavy in my chest. It feels like a physical blow, one that leaves me reeling.

Finn’s expression softens. "Sometimes, visions are muddled. They change with each choice we make."

"Or they're manipulated." The accusation slips out before I can stop it. I search Finn's face for any sign of deceit, wondering if this is some cruel game to him.

"Would I do that to you?" He sounds wounded, but I can't be sure of anything anymore.

"Wouldn't you?" My defenses rise, a wall of hurt and suspicion. Finn, the ruthless beta of the Fire Pack, tender moments aside, is still capable of inflicting pain—of using his foresight to steer me away from him, away from whatever dangerous potential there is between us.

"Believe what you will," he says quietly, walking away.

I'm left with the echo of his prediction and the sting of betrayal. I wrap my arms around myself, feeling more alone than ever. His words may have been a forecast of loneliness, but right now, I'd choose the empty solitude over the complex torment that comes with being near Finn.

"Stay away from me, Finn," I say firmly, though he's already retreating into the shadows. "I don't need your predictions, true or false. I'll find my own way."

He doesn't respond, but the lingering connection between us pulses once, like the dying beat of a broken heart, before fading completely. I vow then, with every shard of my fractured resolve, to keep my distance. Finn may hold a certain power over me, but I refuse to let him dictate my future—no matter how bleak it might seem.

As I stand alone, the weight of my decision settles over me. I will carve my own path, without him, without his prophecies. A future untold is a future I control, and I won't allow Finn, or anyone else, to take that away from me.