The Lost Luna’s Return

Chapter 9: A Flicker of Peace

Zoey’s POV

The first thing I notice as I wake up in the hospital room is the aroma of food.

My stomach groans loudly, and Raven lets out a soft laugh as my face heats up in embarrassment.

“You can open your eyes. It’s just me.”

I peel my eyes open, and they light up at the sight of the tray in front of me. It’s nothing extravagant—just a sandwich and a soda—but after going so long without food, it might as well be a feast.

There were times I went days without eating.

I reach for the sandwich but hesitate when I feel her eyes on me.

After a moment of silence, she speaks softly, “I’m in the other room if you need me.” Then, she walks out.

The moment she’s out of sight, I devour the meal in less than five minutes. As I lay back on the bed, a sense of contentment settles over me. It’s strange. This might be the happiest I’ve felt in the last fifteen years.

How depressing is that?

I guess that’s life when you’ve gone so long with no one but yourself.

Tears prick my eyes as memories begin to surface—everything I’ve endured, everything I’ve survived. Life in Arrow Heart Pack left no space for grief or reflection. My only thought every day was survival. Now, with nothing to do but rest, I almost find myself wishing for the pile of dishes and filthy tiles waiting to be scrubbed.

“You’re done already,” Raven says with a small laugh. I just nod, suddenly self-conscious.

She takes a seat beside the bed and says nothing for a while. I almost forget she’s there until her voice breaks the silence.

“I’ve never seen someone with so much external and internal injuries alive before.”

Her words hit me like a wall. How many others have seen what I’ve spent my whole life trying to hide?

“You’re incredibly strong,” she continues.

Strong?

I don’t think I’ve ever been called that.

Weak.

Useless.

Worthless.

Those were the labels I knew best.

“The only person I know who’s as strong as you is my cousin,” Raven continues.

I finally raise my gaze, able to meet her eyes as she speaks. Unlike everyone else I’ve met in this pack so far, her expression is soft, almost inviting. Still, instinct takes over, and I bow my head slightly—an old habit I can’t seem to break.

“He lost his parents when he was six. His violent uncle killed them and destroyed everything he knew in a fit of rage, leaving just him and his younger brother.”

Her story hits too close to home. It sounds a lot like mine—except I didn’t just lose my parents. I lost my brother, my future, my home... everything.

“But he survived, and now he’s thriving. Surviving. Just like you,” she adds with a small smile.

“I would hardly call what I’m doing thriving. More like surviving,” I mumble.

“So she speaks,” Raven laughs with quiet excitement.

When she sees my surprise, she points to her ears and adds, “Wolf hearing.”

I’ve never understood it. Probably because I’ve never truly experienced it. Until a few days ago, I’d nearly forgotten I even had a wolf.

“That’s nice,” Mia says mockingly in my head.

“What was it like in your pack?” Raven tries again, her tone gentle.

But I stay silent. I don’t know how to respond. Years of silence have made it hard to speak.

“I’ve never left here. Not since the change of power and Kieran became the new Alpha,” she says, a tinge of sadness in her voice. “But there’s probably nothing out there for me anyways.”

The air turns somber. I want to say something to make her feel better, but no words come to mind.

“Do they go hunting?” she asks.

I nod.

“You ever go with them?”

I shake my head.

She pauses, unsure of what to say, but her determination to keep the conversation going pushes her forward.

“I love your hair. What dye did you use to get it this vibrant?”

Dye? What does she mean, dye?

“Or you’ve never dyed your hair before?” she asks, clearly picking up on the confusion in my expression.

I shake my head again.

Why would she think I’ve ever had time for something like dyeing my hair?

“Wow... I’ve never seen natural hair color like this. May I?”

She reaches forward without waiting for an answer, gently touching the ends and examining them like they hold some kind of secret. I shrink into myself at the attention—so much fuss over hair that’s always in the way.

As she studies it, mumbling words only wolf hearing could pick up, that dull pulse—one I’ve come to recognize as nothing good—rises in the back of my skull.

“Whoa,” Raven says, her voice shifting. My hair begins to glow. She looks up at me with concern. “Zoey, are you okay?”

The first blast of energy surges from my body. Violent visions flash through my mind.

The door slams open.

And then, his voice—steady, commanding, and somehow calming—breaks through the chaos.

“What’s going on? Zoey?”

He’s here.