The Human Luna

Chapter Fifteen - The Binding

Shannon’s POV

Thankfully I only saw Hilary after Doctor Bane left yesterday. She had to check me over and bring me some dinner. She mentioned that Thomas had come by, but once she told him I didn’t want visitors, he left without argument. It was pretty late when she told me though, so I couldn’t help but wonder—where had he been all day?

If I was really his mate, wouldn’t he want to be here first thing? The doubt gnawed at me, twisting tighter the longer I thought about it. Maybe he wasn’t being honest about his feelings. Maybe all that talk of me being his Luna, of “ruling by his side,” was just a performance, something he thought I wanted to hear. But what did ruling even mean? Queen of the wolves? That sounded absurd. How could a human—a frightened, confused human—rule over creatures who could break me in half with a flick of their wrist?

My spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock. Hilary slipped inside with a breakfast tray, the smell of scrambled eggs and buttered toast making my stomach roar in betrayal.

“Shannon, Alpha Thomas is here. Is he okay to come in?”

I nodded, trying to look calm, though nerves fluttered wildly in my chest. And then he entered.

Dressed in a sharp black suit with a pale pink shirt and dark tie, Thomas looked every bit the powerful Alpha he claimed to be. His golden-brown hair was pulled into a neat bun, and when the morning light caught the strands, they shimmered like burnished copper. His eyes—those impossible eyes—sparkled like sunlight dancing across water. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. How was it possible for anyone to look like that?

“Good morning, my angel,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss against my forehead. The warmth lingered long after he sat beside me, as though he had branded me with that simple touch.

I stammered a greeting, embarrassed at my own clumsiness, and tried to bury my face in breakfast before I did something stupid. But I couldn’t help sneaking glances at him, the way his long fingers toyed with the flask he carried, the way his posture was both controlled and restless, like he was holding back a storm.

When I finally asked the questions that had haunted me—about that night in the meadow, about rogues, about what it truly meant to be a Luna—his answers came raw, sometimes halting, sometimes painful. I watched guilt shadow his face, his shoulders sag beneath the weight of things unsaid, and something inside me cracked.

I surprised myself by climbing down from the bed and kneeling in front of him, my palms covering his hands. His skin was warm, his grip trembling beneath mine. “But Thomas,” I whispered, holding his gaze, “you were there when it mattered. You saved me.”

And then I kissed him.

It was tentative at first, a gentle brush of lips, but then it ignited. Sparks raced under my skin, flooding every nerve with heat. My chest swelled with something fierce, hungry, terrifyingly alive. Thomas froze for a heartbeat, as if stunned, and then his arms wrapped around me, crushing me against him as if he’d never let go. His kiss deepened—urgent, desperate, reverent—and for one dizzying moment I thought I might melt into him entirely.

I had to pull back before the fire consumed me, stumbling to the bed and retreating to a safe distance, breathless and trembling. My lips still tingled. My body still hummed with electricity.

We laughed lightly, trying to dispel the intensity, but my curiosity quickly clawed its way back to the surface.

That’s when I noticed the flask. It had been sitting in his hand the whole time, small and silver, catching the light as he rolled it between his palms. Something about the way he held it—so careful, almost reverent—made unease twist in my stomach.

“What’s that?” I asked, nodding toward it.

Thomas stilled. For a moment he didn’t answer, just ran his thumb over the lid as if searching for the right words. Then his gaze lifted to mine, steady but heavy.

He hesitated for a heartbeat before answering, his gaze softening. “It’s a potion. Made by the witch at Crimson Rock.”

I nearly choked on air. “Wait—witches are real too?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. My head was already reeling from everything I’d learned—wolves, hunters, rogues—and now witches? The world I thought I knew was crumbling, piece by piece.

Thomas gave the faintest smile at my disbelief. “Yes, my love. And this potion… it’s not just for us. It binds us to Crimson Rock’s Alpha and Luna. If they were to die, their children would be sent here—teleported to our exact location. We would become their guardians.”

I froze, staring at the flask as if it might bite me. Children? “Wait, you’re telling me… if they die, their babies just appear here?”

He nodded solemnly. “It is not normal, no. But their witch had a premonition—one they trust completely. She foresaw that the only way their children will survive, the only way they’ll reach their full potential, is if we raise them.”

The words hit me like a stone in the chest. I looked at the flask again, suddenly aware of the weight it carried. This wasn’t just some magical bond or title. This was life and death. Three innocent babies, torn from their parents, depending on me—on us—to keep them safe.

My throat tightened painfully. I couldn’t even imagine it: parents so desperate, so terrified, that they’d hand over their children’s future to strangers. How much did it hurt, knowing they might never watch their babies grow, never hear them laugh, never soothe their cries again? The thought clawed at me, raw and merciless. I thought of my sisters—how fiercely I loved them, how much I would sacrifice for them—and my heart cracked. If I lost them, if I had to entrust their lives to someone else… I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.

“Why me?” My voice shook. “Why would they trust me with something like this? I’m human. I’m… ordinary. What could I possibly offer those babies?”

Thomas leaned closer, his hand cupping mine. His eyes, stormy with worry, softened. “Because you’re anything but ordinary, Shannon. I’ve seen the way you love your sisters. The way you protect them, even when you’re afraid. You’re gentle where I am not. Warm where I am hard. That’s what those children will need. And you will never be alone in this—I’ll be beside you every step.”

Tears stung my eyes, blurring the flask between us. The fear didn’t leave—it sat heavy and cold in my stomach—but underneath it, something else began to bloom. Resolve. Those children hadn’t even arrived yet, and already my heart ached for them. Already, I wanted to shield them from every shadow in this brutal world.

I looked at the flask, then back at Thomas. His expression was tight, almost pleading, though he said nothing. He didn’t have to.

I swallowed hard, wiped my eyes, and reached out. “Give it to me.”

For a long moment he just held it, searching my face for hesitation, for doubt, for a reason to stop me. But I had none. For the first time since this whirlwind began, I was sure.

He placed the flask in my hands. The metal was cool, the liquid inside sloshing faintly. I brought it to my lips.

The taste was sharp and metallic, like copper and smoke, like swallowing fire and iron all at once. My body convulsed in protest, but I forced it down. All of it.

And then the world shattered into light.

Heat surged through me, blistering and wild, coursing through my veins with the force of a tidal wave. My skin tingled, then glowed, brightening until my whole body lit like a star. Power hummed in my bones, burned in my lungs, stretched my body too tight, too fragile to contain it all.

I staggered, clutching Thomas’s hand, but even his warmth couldn’t anchor me. My chest ached, my breath came in gasps, confusion and awe colliding until I didn’t know whether to scream or laugh or sob.

Thomas’s terrified face swam in front of me, his lips moving, but I couldn’t hear him over the roar of energy crashing in my ears. My veins pulsed like molten fire, my hands blazing like embers.

The power grew, and grew, and grew, until it became unbearable.

A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal, before the brilliance swallowed me whole.

And then—darkness.

But it wasn’t empty.

Silver light bloomed in the shadows, faint at first, then brighter, softer than the fire in my veins. A figure emerged, cloaked in flowing silver threads that rippled like starlight. Her presence wasn’t frightening—it was vast, infinite, eternal. My breath caught, even though I wasn’t sure if I was breathing at all.

Her eyes found mine, glowing like twin moons, and in that gaze I felt… recognition. Not the way strangers recognize each other, but something deeper. As if she had been waiting for me all along.

“You are mine, child,” her voice echoed, not spoken but resonating inside me.

"Born of light, hidden in shadow. Blood of the hunters runs through your line, but I claimed you. I saved you. And now—wolfkind will need you more than ever.”

My heart pounded, my body trembling. Child? Saved me? What was she saying? Her words coiled around me, heavy and terrifying, yet strangely comforting.

I wanted to ask questions, scream, beg her to explain. But the silver glow surged, wrapping around me like a cloak. Beyond her form I saw flickers—three tiny bundles of light, wailing silently in the void. My chest ached at the sight of them. So small. So fragile. Abandoned in the dark.

“They will come to you,” the stranger whispered, her hand reaching out, shimmering with starlight. “When the time is right, they will be yours to protect.”

My fingers twitched toward her, desperate to hold on, desperate to understand. But the glow shattered into a thousand shards of light, piercing me until I screamed again. The last thing I saw were the children’s eyes—bright, expectant, pleading—before the vision dissolved, dragging me into unconsciousness.