The Human Luna

Chapter Ten – A Father’s Perspective

David’s POV

Telling Shannon she wasn’t my biological daughter was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Even at my lowest, I never saw her as anything other than my beautiful daughter. It broke my heart to see devastation spread across her face — the realisation that she’d been lied to for as long as she could remember.

But as much as it was technically a lie, it never felt like one. I love her just as much as I do Clara and Emily. Without her, my girls wouldn’t have survived, and truth be told, neither would I.

When I arrived home that night, the house was empty. For a moment, I forgot that Clara had texted to say they were staying at the pack house. Thomas had told me the night Shannon was admitted that I was always welcome there too, but I never felt like I deserved it. Not after everything.

Upstairs, I sat heavily on my bed, reaching for the only photo frame I kept in the room. My fingers brushed over the image of me and my sweet Emilia on our very first date. I’d just made her laugh, and the camera had captured her mid-smile — her eyes lit with joy, her whole spirit spilling out in that single picture.

Before Emily was born, she was always so full of life. Always laughing, always moving, always out and about. There wasn’t a single week where she didn’t drag me and the girls along to something. That’s why the change was so stark after Emily came along. The laughter dimmed. Days passed where she wouldn’t change or shower. Weeks stretched without so much as a chuckle. The light in her had started to fade, and I… I hadn’t known how to stop it.

Sixteen Years Ago

The bell over the door chimed as I stepped into Kenny’s, the warm scent of maple syrup and frying bacon greeting me like an old friend. The place was buzzing with the usual Saturday crowd, but my attention was pulled instantly to her.

A new waitress.

She moved between the tables with an ease that made it look like she had worked here her whole life, but I knew I’d never seen her before. I would have remembered.

Her golden blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail, loose strands curling against her cheeks, softening her face. Crystal-blue eyes framed with long lashes flicked up to meet mine for the briefest second, and I swear my breath caught. Her lips — painted a deep, tempting red — curved into a smile that felt like it was meant for me alone.

“Hey there, handsome. Table for one?”

Her voice was light, teasing, as though she already knew I’d follow her anywhere. I only managed a dumb nod, my tongue tied somewhere between my throat and my boots.

She led me to a booth near the kitchen, and I trailed after her, watching the sway of her hips, the way her uniform hugged her curves as if the fabric had chosen her body above all others. I sat down heavily, praying I looked more composed than I felt.

“Why don’t you take a look at the menu while I get you a drink? What can I get ya?”

Her pen hovered over her notepad.

“I—uh—Coke. Yes. Coke, please.”

Smooth, Chase snickered at the back of my mind, the damn wolf smug. I shut him out before he could laugh harder.

She gave a little laugh, too — not unkind, more amused. A sound that curled low in my chest, leaving me warm in a way the diner’s heaters couldn’t.

I watched her flit between tables while I pretended to study the menu. She laughed with the other waitresses, tossed her ponytail back when a cook called something from the kitchen, leaned against a counter as she scribbled down an order. I wished — gods, I wished — I could make her laugh like that.

When she returned with my drink, she leaned just close enough for me to catch the faintest trace of vanilla clinging to her skin.

“Do you know what you’re having then, handsome?”

I fumbled again, words tripping over themselves. “Uh—two stacks of pancakes. Please.”

Her lips twitched, amusement dancing in her eyes, and then she was gone again.

By the time she brought them over, I was ravenous — for the food, yes, but more for her presence. She slid the plate down with a smile, the corners of her lips quirking when she caught me staring.

The pancakes disappeared too quickly, my plate left bare while she worked across the room. I set down more money than I ever had for a meal — more than the pancakes were worth, certainly — but I couldn’t help it. It felt like leaving something behind for her, a piece of proof that I had been here.

The evening air outside was cold, sharp enough to clear the fog from my mind. I tugged my jacket tighter, heading toward the forest when I heard it —

“Sir! Wait—excuse me—sir!”

I turned, startled, just as she broke free from the crowd. My waitress.

She was running toward me, dodging people, cheeks flushed pink from the effort. The golden strands of her hair had loosened further, falling around her face in a halo, and she clutched something in her hand.

Finally reaching me, she bent forward, catching her breath with a little huff before straightening.

“You forgot your wallet,” she said, her voice breathless, smile bright despite her panting. She pressed it into my hand, her fingers brushing mine in a fleeting touch that sparked fire across my skin.

“Dude, you’re fast. Did you know that?”

Her laughter followed the words, light and free, wrapping around me like sunlight breaking through clouds.

For the first time in longer than I could remember, I laughed too. A real laugh. And in that moment — wallet in hand, her smile brighter than the neon glow of Kenny’s behind us — I realised I didn’t even know her name.

But somehow, deep in my chest, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

This girl was going to change everything.

** Fast-forward three years**

The memory still burns bright, like sunlight I can never touch again.

"Push, love. You can do this! Push!"



The room was chaos — the sharp commands of Doctor Bane, the hurried footsteps of nurses, the sound of Emilia’s cries breaking through the walls. And then… a different cry. Higher. Sharper. Fragile but fierce. The sound of life itself being born.

I froze, unable to breathe as the world shifted around me. That single cry rewrote everything I was.

Doctor Bane placed the tiny, wriggling bundle onto Emilia’s chest, and instantly, as if guided by something greater than all of us, she stilled. Those wide, new eyes lifted, unfocused yet drawn, finding their mother’s gaze and locking onto it like she had known her all her life. The cries melted into silence. Peace. Recognition.

I thought my heart would burst.

The doctor’s voice cut through the haze, calling me over. My hands shook as he passed me the scissors. I had fought wars, survived wounds that should have killed me, endured nights darker than death itself… yet I had never been so terrified as I was in that moment. One small cut, and she was untethered, fully ours.

When I looked up, Emilia’s golden hair had come loose, tumbling in damp strands over her shoulders. She was pale, exhausted, sweat dripping down her temple — and still the most breathtaking thing I’d ever seen. Her eyes found mine, sparkling with tears and joy, and her lips curved into a smile that made the whole world brighter.

"I’d like to name her Clara," she whispered, her voice raw but steady. "After your mother."

The words ripped through me. My knees gave way. I collapsed beside the bed, tears pouring unchecked. My mother had only passed a year before, and the grief still clawed at me every day. But to hear Emilia speak her name with such love, to carry her memory forward through our child… it was too much.

I sobbed into Emilia’s hand as she stroked my hair, and for that one moment, I was complete. Whole. My family was everything. The world was perfect.