UNHEARD WHISPERS
1512 Words
Five Years Ago
The clinic smelled of crushed herbs, clean linen, and fear that refused to fade.
Zanny sat on the edge of the narrow bed, her hands folded tightly in her lap as if holding herself together by sheer will. The healer moved quietly around her, checking for wounds she already knew were not there. No blood. No broken skin. Yet Zanny felt as though something inside her had been torn open and left exposed to the night.
“You’re unharmed,” the healer said gently. “Physically.”
Zanny nodded but did not speak.
Selene stood nearby, arms crossed loosely, her posture relaxed in a way that felt almost unnatural given what had happened. She watched Zanny closely, her gaze sharp, assessing, before softening it into concern whenever the healer looked her way.
“She went into shock,” Selene said smoothly. “Anyone would, after something like that.”
The healer glanced at Zanny again. “Shock passes. But some things linger.” Turning to Zanny, she asked, "What really happened?"
Zanny finally lifted her eyes. For a moment, the healer thought she saw something flicker there, something old and dangerous, but it vanished as quickly as it came.
“I’m fine,” Zanny said quietly. Her voice was steady, although it didn't feel like her own. She blinked sharply occasionally as if she was seeing something no one was seeing.
The healer nodded and stepped back. “Rest. The moon has taken enough from you tonight.”
“Thank you,” Zanny said. “I assure you I am perfectly okay, just that…”
The healer cut in, “Just what Luna?”
“Just that I see flashes of the beast when I close my eyes,” Zanny said, and after a few seconds, “ And I am not your Luna, not yet.”
“It is normal,” replied the healer.
“What is normal, seeing flashes or not being a Luna yet?” Zanny replied.
“Both,” the healer said, spraying some herbs around her. “Rest now, my child.”
When the door closed behind her, silence filled the room.
Selene moved closer, sitting beside Zanny on the bed. “You were brave,” she said softly. “Braver than anyone could have expected.”
Zanny’s lips curved into a faint smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I didn’t think. I just… moved. Something worse could have happened.”
Selene reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Zanny’s face, her touch lingering. “That’s what makes you dangerous,” she murmured. “You act from instinct. From the heart. You saved my life and probably that of Clay's too. Thank you.”
Zanny stiffened slightly but said nothing. She was emotionally and physically tired, and she needed the rest the healer requested.
Outside the clinic, Silvercrest buzzed with unrest. Guards doubled their patrols. Warriors whispered of omens and broken wards. Somewhere in the forest, a beast nursed its wounds, and no one believed it had been a coincidence.
Clay stood at the council elders, his shoulder freshly bandaged, his patience wearing thin.
“The wards were intact,” one elder insisted. “There was no breach.”
“And yet the beast stood in the royal chambers,” Clay snapped. “Explain that.”
No one could.
“I heard she saved you,” One of the Elders claimed.
“Are you mocking me or making a statement?” Clay asked, turning his head towards the Elder, who said that.
“She has earned her right to be called Luna. Why have you not wifed her? It was a condition we gave to you before we could name you Alpha,” The Elder replied.
“I am the only survivor of my clan,” Clay replied.
“And she is the only surviving royalty we have,” the Elder replied again.
The older warrior who had spoken earlier cleared his throat. “There are creatures that slip through magic not meant for them. Old things. Cursed things.”
Clay’s jaw tightened. His thoughts drifted unbidden to Zanny, the way she had stepped forward without fear, the way she had held the knife, steady despite the chaos. He did not want ot involve her in his politics.
“She didn’t hesitate,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
One of the elders frowned. “You speak of Zanny?”
“Yes,” Clay replied. “She stood where no one else did.”
“And Selene?” another asked carefully.
Clay’s gaze flicked to him, sharp. “What of her?”
“She was the target,” the elder said. “Or so it seemed.”
Silence followed that observation.
Clay requested that he take his leave, claiming exhaustion, though sleep did not come when he finally returned to his chambers. His wolf paced restlessly beneath his skin, unsettled, agitated by something it could not name.
Before dawn, he found himself standing outside the clinic.
He did not go in.
Inside, Zanny lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the image of glowing eyes and snapping jaws replaying behind her lids. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt it again, that sudden surge, that sharp clarity, as if something inside her had awakened when the beast leapt.
She pressed a hand to her chest. It was still there, beating faster than regular, but it was still intact.
Selene left her side, claiming she needed a rest. Zanny watched her go, a strange unease settling in her stomach. Selene had been too calm. Too composed.
When the door shut, Zanny finally allowed herself to breathe.
She swung her legs off the bed and stood. The room seemed to tilt for a moment, then steadied. She walked to the small basin and stared at her reflection.
Her eyes looked darker. Not tired. Not afraid but different.
A knock sounded softly.
She turned. “Come in.”
Clay stepped inside.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of everything unsaid pressed between them.
“You should be resting,” he said at last.
“So should you,” Zanny replied, her gaze drifting briefly to his injured shoulder.
He nodded. “You saved Selene.”
“I did what anyone would have done.”
“No,” Clay said quietly. “You didn’t.”
Their eyes met, and something old stirred between them. Something unresolved.
“I never thanked you,” he continued. “For stepping in front of that beast.”
Zanny held his gaze. “I didn’t do it for thanks.”
“I know.” Clay lowered his head. "But what you did saved us. It gave me an opportunity to strike back."
The silence stretched.
Zanny took time to look at the warrior before her. Clay was huge for an Alpha. Zanny could not help but notice his neatly shaped curves. His chest muscles seem to pull out of his robe. She could see almost every structure of his carved muscles hidden under his robe.
“Clay,” she said finally, her voice softer now, “that thing… it wasn’t just a beast.”
His expression sharpened. “You felt it too.”
She nodded. “It knew us. It chose. It felt like it was controlled. It felt like magic all over.”
Clay exhaled slowly. “Then this isn’t over.”
“No,” Zanny agreed. “I think there is something more to this.”
From the corridor beyond the door, Selene watched, hidden in shadow. Her expression was unreadable. Selene had wanted to go to Clay when she excused herself from Zanny's presence. It was on her way that she noticed Clay was coming towards the clinic so she hid herself watching them from a distance.
After Clay leaft, Zanny returned to her chambers alone. Sleep still refused her, but exhaustion dragged her limbs.
She was crossing the room when she felt it.
That same pull.
Her breath caught. Slowly, she turned toward the balcony doors.
They were open.
Moonlight spilt across the floor, bright and beckoning.
And standing just beyond the threshold, half in shadow, half in silver light, was a figure she did not expect to see.
She knew it was a seer.
His eyes glowed faintly, fixed on her, his presence heavy with urgency.
“Zanny,” he said low. “You’re not safe here.”
Her heart thundered. “What are you talking about?”
He stepped closer. “The beast was sent.”
“By who?”
Before he could answer, a sudden wave of power surged through the air, sharp and cold. The moonlight flickered. Zanny gasped as a burning sensation tore through her chest, dropping her to her knees.
The seer swore under his breath. “It’s started.”
“What has?” Zanny whispered, clutching at herself as something inside her roared awake.
But the Seer was taken by a cold wind whispering gibberish as Zanny tried to pay attention to what the wind was saying.
- Writer
