The Luna is a Witch

Chapter 14: Claire

The apartment is a disaster. The roof is half gone. There’s demon soot on my couch. LJ is sobbing into my shoulder. Carter is barely awake, clinging to my shirt. Draven kneels in the middle of it all, chest heaving, eyes glowing silver, claws still halfway shifted back. No one talks for a moment.

Finally, I manage to whisper, “…Draven?” His head snaps toward me like he’s been waiting to hear my voice.

“Yeah?” he rasps.

I swallow hard. Then ask the question that’s been burning my tongue since the creature fell. “What… what was that thing?”

His jaw clenches. He glances toward the roof hole like it personally offends him. “A Shadow Crawler,” he says quietly. “A scout. They don’t usually leave their realm unless they’re following powerful magic.”

My stomach twists. “So it was hunting Carter?”

His eyes flick to the sleeping toddler. Then to me. “…Not anymore. It found a new target."

LJ’s head pops up like a meerkat. “I’m sorry—EXCUSE ME? For her too?

Draven nods once, slowly. “It said Luna,” he murmurs.

My breath catches. Heat crawls up my neck. I pull Carter tighter.“I’m not—I’m not Luna,” I lie instantly.

He looks at me with a kind of aching disbelief. “You really don’t know what you are, do you?”

My pulse stutters. “Don’t,” I whisper. “Please don’t start that. Not now. Not after—”

He just shakes his head. “It came because your power woke up,” he says. “Because your son marked the sky with lunar magic. Because the goddess wasn’t subtle about revealing you.”

“SHE LITERALLY DID A LIGHTSHOW?” I just stared at LJ. Sometimes I wonder how she got as far in life as she did.

“Yes.” Draven said, still very bland in his tone. He just looks so exhausted and done with everything. Carter sleeps against me, a tiny crescent faintly glowing beneath his shirt. I don’t know what to say. So I don’t say anything. Draven rises slowly, wincing—he’s injured, his ribs still bleeding from the first hit—and dusts off his hands.

“I need to leave,” he says abruptly. “You guys should be good for now.”

LJ jumps to her feet, pointing at him so fast her finger nearly breaks. “Oh NO you don’t. You do NOT get to save us, traumatize us, and then WALK AWAY like you didn’t just Kool-Aid-Man through our roof!” Her voice is shrill enough to crack chalk. I guess she figured it was better for him here then us on our own.

Draven presses two fingers to his temple, like he's trying to fight off a headache.“I didn’t come through your roof, LJ. The creature did.”

“Semantics!” she shrieks. “FIX. THE. ROOF.”

He scowls. “I don’t know how—”

“You look like a man who owns a toolbox,” she fires back.

“I’m a wolf—”

“TOOLBOX,” she repeats viciously.

Draven looks like he wanted to throw her through the roof. I almost laugh. Almost.

“I should go,” he says softly. His eyes flick to Carter, then to the destroyed ceiling. “If I stay, I’ll only draw more attention. I’m a beacon for these creatures. They follow wolves as easily as witches.”

He takes one step backward toward the door. Carter, who was fast asleep moments ago, jerks awake with a small, sharp gasp. His head snaps up. His eyes lock on Draven and he starts crying. This isn't a normal cry for Carter. He's crying like hes being abandoned.

“No!” Carter sobs. He reaches a tiny hand toward Draven. “No woof go! No leave!”

Draven freezes instantly. LJ freezes. The whole damn universe freezes.

Draven’s voice is a rough, stunned whisper. “Carter…”

Carter reaches harder, little fingers trembling. “Woof stay… please…”

My heart cracks clean in two. Because Carter has never done that for anyone but me. Draven swallows hard enough I hear it across the room. His voice breaks.

“Claire… why is he—why does he—” He shakes his head. “What did he do to me? What happened with his magic?”

There it is. The question I’ve been avoiding. The one I don’t know how to answer. So I whisper the truth. “I don’t know. But your powers… connected. When you fought. When he panicked. It felt like—like he reached for you.”

Draven’s eyes widen. He looks down at his own hands—still faintly glowing with silver burn.

Carter reaches again, sobbing. “No, woof don’t go… woof safe…”

And Draven—This giant, terrifying alpha—Looks like he might cry.

“I can’t stay,” he whispers. His voice splintering. “If I stay… I’ll make you a target. I’ll put him in danger. I’ll—”

Carter wails harder.“NO! NO LEAVE!” His little magic sparks again.

Draven’s entire body shudders like he’s in pain. “I can’t—Claire—” His voice breaks. “You have to tell him to stop—”

I can’t. I can barely breathe. My son—my baby— is reaching toward an alpha wolf like he was born to. Because Draven is shaking like he’s fighting his own heart. Because something ancient just rooted itself in the floor between us.

LJ looks between us and whispers: “Oh. My. Gods. He’s bonded with Carter.”

Draven flinches like she stabbed him.“It’s not—”He swallows.“It shouldn’t be—Carter shouldn’t bond to me—he should bond to YOU—he should—” But he can’t finish.

Because Carter sobs again, reaching for him with tiny hands glowing silver. “Woof stay…”

Draven looks at me. Not as an alpha. Not as fate. But as a man begging me to tell him what to do.

“Claire,” he whispers, voice raw, “tell me to leave… or tell me to stay.”

The room feels like it's been sucked of all the oxygen. Draven stands frozen in the doorway. Half-shifted. Half-broken. His statement hangs in the air like a blade suspended over all of us:“Claire...tell me to leave or tell me to stay.” I open my mouth. I try to speak. I try to choose. But nothing—NOTHING—comes out. My throat locks. My chest squeezes. My heart… stutters. Because either choice feels like betrayal. If I say “stay,” I drag him deeper into a prophecy he doesn’t fully understand. If I say “go,” the little boy trembling in my arms will break in ways I cannot fix. I choke on a breath. LJ looks at me, wide-eyed, breathless.

“Claire—?”

But I can’t speak. I can’t. Carter lifts his head. His small hand— still glowing faintly— reaches toward Draven again. “Stay.” Just one word. Barely a whisper. Soft as air.But it hits the room like thunder. Draven’s body jolts. His claws retract. His shoulders drop. His breath catches so hard he almost doubles over. Because it wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a plea. It was a command.

“Stay… woof.” Carter hiccups, tears dripping onto my collar. “Please.”

My vision blurs. I’ve never heard my son sound so desperate. Draven swallows hard enough I hear it from across the room. His eyes lift to mine, glowing, but softer than I’ve ever seen.

“Claire…” There’s no alpha in his voice. No dominance. No prophecy. Just a man with a shattered heart in his hands, handed to him by a toddler.“I won’t go,” he says quietly. “If he wants me here to feel safe… I will stay.”

My breath leaves me in a rush. I don’t know what to say. My voice cracks on the first sound. I cover Carter’s ear with my hand, then whisper: “…thank you.” Just two words. But Draven reacts like I handed him the universe. He steps inside fully, careful not to cross too close to me, but enough that the creature’s corpse lies behind him, not between us. Suddenly…The apartment feels less like a battlefield. More like a shelter. Carter sniffles, rubbing his eyes. His glow dims. He reaches toward Draven again, fingers opening and closing.

“Woof… safe,” he murmurs, half-asleep. Draven drops to one knee, the entire shift melting out of him at once. He bows his head.

And whispers back: “Always.”