The Human Luna

Chapter Seven - Awakened

“Doctor Bane was urgently summoned to the Blood Moon pack. Luna Alice needed an emergency caesarean — both mother and child were in grave danger. They tried to reach you, Alpha, but you were asleep. A witch transported her there instantly. We’ve not heard since.”

My jaw tightened. She left. She left when Shannon still hadn’t woken.

“Why isn’t Shannon awake yet?” My voice cracked, the demand slipping out half like a plea.

Hilary’s expression softened. “That, my lovely… even Doctor Bane couldn’t answer. It’s up to Shannon now. But come — I haven’t checked her obs yet.”

I stormed ahead of her, fury and fear clashing inside me, until I shoved open the door to Shannon’s room — ready to face the same unbearable stillness I’d endured for days.

And then the world stopped. Because she wasn’t lying motionless anymore. She was awake. Awake — and sitting up.

For a moment I couldn’t breathe. My lungs forgot how to work, my heart lurched against my ribs, and Atticus howled inside my chest, the sound echoing with raw relief. My knees almost gave way beneath me. I’d imagined this moment a thousand times, but the reality of it hit harder than any battle I’d ever fought.

Hilary looked at me straight away; she must’ve known what was coming, because all I heard was her shouting after me as I tore forward, my only focus Shannon.

I didn’t even realize I’d let my guard down until it was too late.

Atticus surged forward, ripping control from me with a savage hunger I hadn’t felt in years. My body was no longer my own. He kissed her, hungrily, desperately, claiming what he’d been denied for six long years. His hands gripped tighter with every passing heartbeat, sparks of the bond flaring between us so fiercely it almost burned.

I fought him. I tried to pull back. But Atticus was too strong. He had wanted this moment just as much as I had—maybe more. His need was primal, instinct carved into every nerve.

And then—Shannon hit me.

Her fists pounded against my chest, weak and frantic, but Atticus only groaned in frustration, unwilling to let go.

Her scream shattered him. Shattered me.

The sound cut through everything, ripping me free of Atticus’s grip. I wrenched back control, shoving him deep into the shadows of my mind, his whimper echoing faintly as I locked him away. My heart hammered in my chest, the taste of her still on my lips—but it felt poisoned.

Shannon shoved me back with all the strength she could muster, her eyes wide with fury and fear. When her fist swung up and cracked against my face, I didn’t flinch. It didn’t hurt. But watching her cradle her hand in pain afterward? That cut deeper than claws ever could.

All I’ve done is hurt her. Over and over.

She shouted at me—her voice shaking, sharp, laced with betrayal—but if I’m honest, I didn’t even take in the words. I already hated myself enough without hearing her hatred too. And she was right. Whatever she said, she was right.

Hilary was suddenly there, shoving me back toward the hallway. Her hand pressed firmly against my chest, her eyes blazing with authority as she slammed the door in my face and locked it.

I stood there, breathing hard, pacing like a caged wolf. Every second felt like a blade twisting deeper into my gut. Atticus whimpered at the edges of my mind, but I shut him out. He didn’t deserve to speak. Neither did I.

I don’t know how long I walked that hallway—minutes, hours?—before the door finally clicked open again. My body tensed, desperate to see Shannon, to beg for forgiveness, but I froze when I saw who it was.

Her sisters and father raced past me, their footsteps pounding against the floor, their faces pale with fear and urgency. They deserved this time with her. I had taken enough already.

I sank down into the chair opposite her door, slumping forward, elbows on my knees as I buried my face in my hands. I waited. And waited.

It felt like an eternity before the door opened again. Emily and Clara stepped out, tears streaming down their faces, hands trembling as they clutched at each other.

I pushed myself to my feet instantly. My chest ached at the sight. They didn’t deserve this pain—not them, not Shannon. And yet, I was the cause.

"Hey, girls… are you okay? Please don’t cry."

I crouched down in front of them, lowering myself in a bid to seem less intimidating. Their small, watery smiles broke my heart, though neither of them could quite meet my eyes.

"Y–yes, Alpha," they answered together, their voices clipped, trained, as if they were trying to mask the rawness of their tears. We taught our warriors to show no fear—but training doesn’t hide swollen, red-rimmed eyes.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out a tissue and gently brushing their cheeks dry. "Please," I said softly, "call me Thomas. And take the rest of the week off. You deserve that much. Shannon will be fine, I promise you."

"But—" they started, guilt heavy in their tone.

"No buts." My voice was firm, but I softened it with a small smile. "I insist. You’ve carried enough already. This isn’t your fault—none of it. All you’ve done is follow orders. You shouldn’t carry this weight."

They faltered, hesitating, but I didn’t give them a chance to protest further. "I’ll mind link Katherine. She’ll prepare rooms for you on my floor in the pack house, and for the week, you’ll be treated like queens. No arguments."

That finally drew their eyes up to mine. Their lips curved into wide, genuine smiles, the kind only sisters could share, before they turned and bolted down the hall—no doubt already racing toward the pack house.

I mind linked Katherine quickly, explaining the situation. She was steady, reliable; I knew she would take care of them as if they were her own family. They would be in safe hands.

Now, it was time for me to do the harder thing—to swallow my pride, carry my guilt, and face the only woman I could ever love. I owed her an apology. And this time, I had to get it right.

I stopped just outside the door, my hand resting on the frame as if the wood itself could steady me. My chest felt tight, my palms clammy, and for a moment I just stood there staring at the threshold like it was some kind of barrier I wasn’t sure I had the strength to cross.

What if she screamed again? What if she looked at me with nothing but hatred? The thought hollowed me out, but worse was the other possibility—that she might not look at me at all. That she’d simply turn away and shut me out forever.

I shook my head hard, dragging in a deep breath as if it could clear the nerves burning in my chest. I was Alpha. I was supposed to be strong, controlled, untouchable. And yet, here I was, terrified of a single woman—my woman. My mate.

Finally, I forced myself forward, easing the door open as quietly as I could. Each step felt heavier than the last, like the floor was trying to hold me back.

Her father was sitting at her side, his large, weathered hand wrapped protectively around hers. My gut twisted instantly. Relief warred with envy inside me, a storm that churned hotter with every passing second. I should have been grateful she wasn’t alone. But all I could think was: that should be me.

I clenched my jaw until it ached, trying to cage the wolf inside, but the possessiveness clawed at me mercilessly. It surged up, spilling free before I could stop it—a low, rumbling growl that filled the room.

Shannon’s head snapped toward me, her expression confused and sharp all at once. Her father pulled his hand away from hers instinctively, and the sight of her delicate fingers falling limp against the sheets nearly destroyed me.

I froze, horrified. I hadn’t meant to. I hadn’t even realised it was coming until it was already too late. My throat closed up around words I wanted to say but couldn’t—apologies that would mean nothing, excuses that would sound hollow. So I just stood there, silent, afraid of what else might slip through if I dared open my mouth.

“Did you just growl?” Shannon asked softly, disbelief colouring her tone.

And all I could do was stare, caught between shame and the raw, unrelenting pull of her presence.

"Two weeks?!" Her voice cracked like a whip through the room, sharp enough to make me flinch. "What do you mean two weeks?! The men, the wolf—it—it was last night! I only met you yesterday and you thought you had some sort of claim over me?! Are you f*****g crazy?!"

The venom in her words burned worse than any wound I’d ever taken in battle. Every syllable hit harder than claws to my flesh, and yet… Goddess help me, some twisted part of me was drawn to her fire. My chest tightened, my blood ran hot—what the hell was wrong with me? Terrified, ashamed, and yet turned on all at once. Atticus rumbled in the back of my mind like he agreed: mate is fierce.

David tried to step in, his hand lifting in a small, calming gesture, but Shannon wasn’t finished—not by a long shot. She was a storm, and there was no stopping her.

"If you were saving me," she spat, her eyes glistening with rage and unshed tears, "why was I chained and blindfolded? Why was I left for hours on end somewhere cold until I passed out from the pain?!"

Her words cut straight through me, sharp and merciless. I could picture her again in that dungeon—the chains biting into her wrists, her cries swallowed by the dark, her small frame curled up and alone. The image tore me apart from the inside, and though her questions were justified, the weight of them left me gutted.

My throat tightened. I forced a slow breath in, clamping down on the tremor in my chest. She couldn’t see how much this was breaking me—not when I needed to be steady, to answer her with truth.

"That was my fault," I admitted quietly, the words like shards of glass on my tongue. "I told them to bring you back here, but they assumed it was as a prisoner. As soon as I dealt with the wolves and got back, I brought you straight to the hospital. I swear it."

I swallowed hard, my fists clenching at my sides as the shame burned deeper. "I’ve still yet to deal with them for how they treated you. And the only time I’ve left your bedside was yesterday—to shower. That’s it. Otherwise, I’ve been here. Every second. With you."

When she didn’t start shouting at me again, I dared to believe it was safe to continue. My chest rose and fell too quickly, nerves coiling tight, but if I stopped now, I’d lose her completely.

"Please," I began carefully, my voice lower, steadier than I felt, "let me introduce myself properly. My name is Thomas Cannon."

"Shannon Rye."

Her reply was quiet, but it hit me harder than any roar of battle. Her voice… it was like music, soft and smooth, slipping into my chest and easing the ache there. For the first time since she’d woken, there was no edge of anger behind it. She’d calmed, her hands resting lightly in her lap instead of balled in fists. My heart leapt. This—this was my chance.

"I know who you are, Shannon," I said, leaning forward, unable to hide the reverence in my tone. "I’ve known you since the day I helped you in the woods six years ago. I’ve thought of nothing—and no one—else since."

Her soft gasp told me everything. She remembered. And more than that—she believed me. That sound was sweeter than any victory I’d ever won. I watched as her brow furrowed, like she was piecing together a puzzle in her mind. Slowly, slowly, her lips curved into the faintest smile. Then her hand lifted, hesitant, almost trembling, and brushed my cheek.

I closed my eyes and leaned into her touch, savoring it like a starving man given his first taste of food in years. Sparks raced across my skin where her palm met my face, spreading fire through every vein, through every inch of me. Just that one touch and I was undone.

Too quickly, the moment shattered. Jade burst through the door, her presence as subtle as a thunderclap, balancing a tray of food. She shoved at me until I toppled off the bed, forcing me into a chair at the end. My jaw clenched, but I said nothing—Shannon needed to eat. Still, I cursed Stefan silently. He hadn’t exactly been discreet about her being awake. No doubt word had spread through the entire pack house already. They all cared, of course—they loved her already, which only proved how worthy my Betas were of their rank. But it didn’t soothe the sting of being pushed away.

I watched Shannon attentively as she ate, every move she made burning into my memory. Now and again, a soft sound escaped her—half moan, half sigh. Whether from hunger or the quality of the food, it didn’t matter. It set something primal off inside me. That sound should be mine. I should be the one pulling those noises from her lips.

When she finally finished, Hilary collected the tray and slipped out, leaving the room thick with silence. Privacy. I’d wanted it, needed it. But as soon as I noticed David’s hand sliding into hers again, my chest burned. Another growl rumbled low in my throat before I could stop it.

Her head snapped toward me. Her eyes narrowed, suspicion sparking in their depths.

"Did you just growl?"

Ah, f**k. Why couldn’t I control myself? The growl had slipped free before I could choke it back, deep and guttural, and the second Shannon’s sharp eyes locked on me, I knew I was caught. There was no masking it. My chest constricted, heat flooding my face as I stumbled, words tripping over my tongue.

"I… erm, just… uh… yeah," I admitted lamely, hating the sound of my own voice. No excuse, no explanation. Just raw, humiliating honesty.

Her brows knitted, confusion sharpening into fury. "What the hell is going on?! I want to know NOW."

Her voice cracked like thunder in the room, and my body locked up. I stared at her, powerless, blank. I wanted to tell her—everything, the bond, the truth—but my mouth refused to move.

Beside her, David exhaled heavily, resignation lacing every line of his face. He cleared his throat, his voice rough, almost breaking. "Hunny, you’re right. But when we tell you… it will change your life forever. Are you sure you want that? You could go home, lead a completely innocent life. I could even send you to live with your aunts if you like. You could get away from it all."

Those words. Send her away.

Something inside me snapped.

The air around me shifted as Atticus pushed forward. My vision blurred, gold bleeding into my eyes, my muscles trembling as my wolf forced control. My nails dug crescents into my palms as my body straightened unnaturally, breath coming out in harsh pants.

Shannon’s lips parted, her face paling as she saw it—saw him. My features twisted, my voice lowering into something rougher, feral, inhuman.

"Mate," Atticus growled through me, the sound vibrating the walls. My eyes burned, gold flooding them completely as his snarl deepened. "Goes. Nowhere."