The Sacred Luna

Chapter 16

(Sanya's POV)

I drink with renewed greed as the water soothes my burning throat. Washes away the lingering fire of the chili powder in my mouth. I drink until the flask is empty, until I can breathe again without feeling like I'm inhaling flames.

When I'm done, the shaman caps the flask and tucks it back into his robes.

Then he takes off his cape...

A silver piece that shimmers as if woven from moonlight itself. Flickering with sparks as he moves, catching the light in ways words fail to describe...

And drapes it over my shoulders.

Warmth spreads through me. Not the burning heat provided by the chili. But true warmth. The kind that comes from sitting by a fire on a winter night. From being wrapped in blankets fresh from the dryer. Of being held by a loved one.

My body stops shaking. The grayish tint fading from my skin.

I can feel my fingers and toes again. I can think again.

I'm alive.

Behind me, Tyron struggles against the garland. He twists and pulls, his face contorted with rage and frustration.

"Let me go!" he roars. "Do you know who I am? I'm Alpha Tyron Stone! I command you to release me this instant!"

The shaman doesn't even look at him.

I watch Tyron struggle, straining against the magical bindings, cursing and threatening nonstop. Until he realizes, slowly, that his strength means nothing here.

To the shaman, his status and authority pose no threat.

For the first time since I married him, Tyron Stone is the one who's helpless and at the mercy of another.

I should feel satisfaction. Vindication even.

But all I feel is tired.

So tired that I just want all this to end.

I don't even think about it. I just reach out and touch the garland wrapped around Tyron.

The second my fingers make contact with the garland, it falls apart.

Not slowly. Not gradually. It just falls away like a spider web, then like morning dew evaporating in sunlight, as if it was never there at all.

The golden light fades. A few petals scatter and disappear before they even hit the ground.

Tyron stumbles forward, suddenly free. He catches himself on the back of a chair, his chest heaving, his eyes wild.

He stares at me, like he's seeing me for the first time.

But it's not the shock in his eyes that make my heart skip a beat. It's the awe. The almost fervent zeal in his eyes I've never seen directed at me before.

No. I have seen it before. On our wedding night, when he called me a beauty deserving of being treated with care.

The memory brings a sting to my eyes.

I turn to thank the shaman.

But he's gone.

The doorway is empty. There's no sign he was ever there. No footprints in the melted ice water. No disturbance in the air.

Like his magical garland, it's as if he was never there at all.

The servants are still on their knees, their foreheads pressed to the floor, muttering prayers under their breath.

Tyron doesn't speak. He just stares at me with those shock filled eyes.

Then he turns and storms toward the door.

His footsteps echo through the house. Then the sound of a door slamming comes from outside. Soon after, the roar of an engine, followed by the screech of fading tires.

Silence descends on the living room.

Tara's face is pale. Marcus has backed up against the wall. John is on his feet, his eyes wide, as Mira clutches his arm, her earlier smugness completely gone.

Tara is the first to recover. She clears her throat, smoothing down her dress with shaking hands.

"Clean this up," she snaps at the servants. "And someone find out who that man was. We can't have strange shamans just walking into our home whenever they please."

The servants scramble to obey. They bring mops and towels. They start cleaning up the water and melted ice.

They give me a wide berth, as if afraid I would do something to them.

Mira leans close to Tara. "Did you see what she did?" she whispers.

"I saw," Tara says coldly. "We'll discuss this later. In private."

She looks at me. Her eyes cold, piercing.

Marcus clears his throat, pulling himself together. "I'm going to check on Tyron. Make sure he's... composed." He leaves quickly. Like he can't get away fast enough.

Tara snorts. Giving me one last piercing glance, she saunters up the stairs.

John and Mira follow, whispering to each other as they go, casting glances back at me over their shoulders.

Without a doubt, the whole family is too shaken by what just happened to continue bothering with me. As they scatter away, each returning to their own rooms, I become the only one left in the living room.

I remain on the floor, pulling the silver cape tighter around my shoulders. It gives me a warmth and a sense of security I haven't felt in a long while.

I wonder who that shaman was. Where did he come from? How did he make that garland appear out of nowhere?

And why did it disappear when I touched it?

I look down at my hands. They look the same. Pale and slender. Nothing special.

But I dissolved a magical binding with a single touch.

How?

I've always wondered why I never got my wolf when both my parents were Alpha born. I couldn't make sense of it, and neither could my brothers.

They were proud Alphas who had a human for a sister. Part of their need to control me steamed from this fact.

They were afraid I would expose myself, and everyone would find out the daughter of Vera and Sean Light was a human. A lowly creature that couldn't even measure up to an Omega.

This is also one of the reasons why I wanted to become a baker and settle in a human town. I didn't want my brothers to carry the shame of having a human sister.

Another reason... was the way the male population in the werewolf community treated females like trash.

But what happened with the garland... could it have something to do with my wolf?

I can't help getting hopeful.

If it did have something to do with my wolf, I would no longer have to tolerate the Stone family's abuse.

I can leave the Blood Moon Pack and return home. There's a chance my brothers will accept me if they find out I'm no longer a wolf-less burden.