Chapter 7:Claire
1952 Words
The moment we land inside my apartment, Carter lets out a tiny exhausted whimper and collapses against my shoulder. Poor baby. He’s drained. His little magic wells are cracked and empty, and all he wants is safety. I kiss his forehead, holding him closer. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re home. Momma’s got you.”
The apartment is small — barely two bedrooms — but it’s warm, cozy, and filled with protection runes hidden under picture frames and inside Carter’s toy baskets. I press my cheek to the top of his curls.
He’s safe. He’s okay. We’re okay. Or we should be.
If only my heartbeat would calm down. If only my mind wasn’t replaying her voice —
Daughter of my daughter… You run from what you already are… Protect them both.
Fail the child, fail the Luna.
Luna. That word won’t stop echoing through me. I swallowed hard and whispered a soft, grounding charm over Carter. His breath evens out, his fingers loosening around my shirt as he slips into a quiet sleep. Only then do I finally turn toward LJ, who has been standing in the center of my living room with the kind of expression you normally only see on traumatized reality show contestants. Her hands are on her hips. Her eye is twitching. Oh no. Here it comes.
“Okay,” LJ says, voice too calm to be normal. “Sweetie. Honey. My favorite demigoddess who never lets me have a day off—”
I wince. “LJ—”
“No.” She raises a hand like she’s conducting an orchestra of chaos. “No interruptions. I need answers before my brain melts out of my ear.”
She points at the empty air where the goddess appeared earlier. “WAS. THAT. A. GODDESS?”
I groan. “Technically—”
“CLAIRE.”
Her voice cracks. “Was. That. Hecate?”
“…Probably.”
LJ gasps so dramatically she almost passes out.
“CLAIRE CATHERINE QUINN. WE JUST GOT CALLED OUT BY A WHOLE-ASS GODDESS. IN A CLASSROOM. IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE RELATED TO THE SHADOW QUEEN OF ALL WITCHES?!”
I shift Carter in my arms, cheeks burning. “It’s not something you mention casually—”
“‘Hey bestie, how’s your morning? Oh, mine’s great. I’m secretly a descendant of the goddess of magic, by the way!’ THAT WOULD’VE BEEN TOTALLY CASUAL, CLAIRE!”
I bury my face in Carter’s curls. “Please lower your voice—”
“No, because I’m not done!” LJ gestures wildly, nearly knocking over a lamp. “AND THEN! A HOT, TERRIFYING ALPHA WOLF ENTERS CLASS LATE LIKE A CHAPTER ONE LOVE INTEREST AND STARES YOU DOWN LIKE YOU OWE HIM SOUL TAXES.”
“LJ—”
“He was looking at you like you were his last meal AND his next paycheck. And THEN a goddess shows up and tells him YOUR TITLE and then YOU RUN LIKE SOMEONE SET YOUR HAIR ON FIRE.”
I sigh. “I didn’t run because of him—”
“Oh really? REALLY? Because I’m pretty sure you teleported the SEMESTER out of that classroom.”
I rub my forehead. “LJ, I panicked.”
“YOU PANICKED BECAUSE SHE CALLED YOU LUNA!”
I flinch. LJ sees it. Immediately softens. Steps closer.
“Oh… Claire.”
I close my eyes, breathing shakily. “I’m not cut out for this,” I whisper. “I’m not a leader. I’m not chosen. I’m not anything special. I’m just…” My voice breaks. “I’m just trying to raise a kid who can accidentally crack the realms in half.”
LJ reaches out, brushing my arm. “You’re scared.”
“I’m terrified,” I admit, holding Carter tighter. “The goddess made it sound like I’ve been… something… something I didn’t know I was. Something I can’t be.”
“Claire, look at me,” LJ says gently.
I do.
“You have been raising Carter alone since you were seventeen. You survived Jordan. You survived losing your mom. You protect a toddler who can summon a hurricane mid-tantrum.” Her voice softens. “The goddess didn’t make you Luna today. You’ve been acting like one for years.”
My throat stings. But LJ isn’t done.
“And that wolf?” she adds, scrunching her nose. “I don’t know what he wants. But I saw his face when Carter cried. Claire… I think he felt it.”
Heat crawls under my skin.
I swallow. “I can’t let him near us.”
“Why?” LJ asks softly.
Because he was sent to me. Because destiny terrifies me. Because wolves don’t leave once they choose. Because I’m not ready. Because Carter is the only piece of family I have left. Because losing him would kill me. Because the goddess said protect them both —and wolves don’t understand limits.
“I just… can’t,” I whisper.
LJ exhales slowly, but before she can speak again—The lights flickered. A cold breeze sweeps through the apartment. And Carter, asleep in my arms…glows faintly.
Oh god. Not another surge.
“Claire…” LJ whispers. “Something’s happening.”
No s**t.
Not again. Not now. I tighten my grip on my son, heart racing.
“LJ,” I breathe, “get the salt. The runes. Anything. Now.”
Because this wasn’t fear. Or exhaustion. Or leftover magic.This glow was different. Stronger. Almost… Lunar.
And the goddess’s final words echo through me like a warning: “Her storm is only beginning.”
“Claire… something’s happening.”
LJ’s voice is shaking, but she’s already moving — rifling through drawers, grabbing salt jars, protection chalk, anything she can find.
Carter glows brighter.
Too bright.
A soft silver radiance pulses under his skin like moonlight flooding through thin glass. His tiny fingers curl into my shirt. His breath hitches, then stutters.
Oh f**k.
Not again.
Not like at school.
Not when he’s already drained.
His magic shouldn’t even be able to flare right now.
“Carter-bug,” I whisper, brushing hair from his forehead. “Sweetheart, stay with Momma. Deep breaths, okay?”
He doesn’t answer.
His glow intensifies, rippling outward in a soft, rhythmic pulse — like a heartbeat.
The lights crackle.
A glass cup on the counter shatters.
The runes on the wall flicker weakly, trying to contain an energy they weren’t built for.
No.
No, no, no.
This isn’t demigod magic.
This is something… higher.
Something lunar.
Something forbidden.
LJ whirls around, clutching a jar of enchanted salt. “Claire—I don’t think these protections are going to hold—”
“I know.”
“What do we do?!”
My throat closes.
There’s only one thing I can do.
But I shouldn’t.
I can’t.
Mom warned me.
She told me never to attempt it unless—
Unless Carter’s life was on the line.
And right now, it feels like it is.
I lower him onto the couch—softly, gently—before he can burn himself or me.
His little body arches, glow sharpening into a blinding shimmer.
He lets out a soft, breathless cry.
Not fear.
Pain.
My blood freezes.
“LJ,” I whisper, voice trembling. “Get the protective circle. Now.”
Her eyes widen in horror.
“No. Claire, no. That spell—your mom said—”
“I KNOW WHAT SHE SAID.”
My voice cracks like lightning.
LJ flinches.
I take a shaking breath and soften my tone. “I know. But I don’t have a choice.”
“Claire, that’s forbidden magic.”
Her voice breaks.
“If you do it wrong—”
“I won’t do it wrong.”
“You could kill yourself.”
“I don’t care.”
LJ stares at me, mouth open, terrified. “Claire—”
“I said I don’t care!”
Carter lets out a tiny whimper and my whole body jolts toward him.
LJ sees it.
She swallows hard.
Then she drops to her knees and starts drawing the circle with frantic urgency.
“I’m helping,” she mutters, choking back tears. “But if you die, I’m raising that baby through seance rituals and necromancy, and you’re going to be SO pissed.”
I manage a tight, broken laugh. “Deal.”
The moment the salt circle is down, I kneel inside it with Carter and pull him into my lap.
He’s burning.
Not hot — not physical heat — but magic.
Raw.
Pure.
Clawing its way out of him.
I cradle his face with both hands.
“Carter,” I whisper, voice low and fierce, the way Mom taught me. “Look at Momma.”
His glowing eyes flutter open.
And in that light — silver, ancient, impossibly bright — I see something that steals my breath.
A shape.
A mark.
Deep beneath the glow.
A crescent.
Small.
Faint.
But there.
Oh gods.
He’s marked.
LJ gasps behind me. “Claire—his chest—look at his chest—”
I do.
And I stop breathing altogether.
A moon sigil.
The same pale silver I saw in the goddess.
Tiny but unmistakable.
Pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
The Luna’s mark.
On Carter.
The child the goddess said I had to protect.
Panic floods me, cold and suffocating.
“Baby,” I whisper, barely able to breathe, “I’m so sorry. This is going to hurt. But you’re gonna be okay. Momma’s here.”
I press my palm to his heart and begin the spell Mom taught me in secret — the one she said was forbidden, ancient, and dangerous.
The one only descendants of Hecate and Luna-blood can attempt.
The one that stabilizes a child whose magic threatens to destroy them.
“Lux mea, anima mea—
My light, my soul…
Return to me.
Return to safety.
Return to stillness.”
A violent pulse blasts against my palm.
The circle glows.
My veins burn.
LJ whimpers, shielding her eyes.
“Claire—stop—”
“I can’t!”
Another pulse.
Harder.
The sigil on Carter’s chest flares—
And so does something in me.
My own chest glows.
Faint.
Silver.
Matching his rhythm.
“No…” I choke. “Not me too—”
But it’s too late.
My magic reaches for Carter’s.
His reaches back.
And something ancient binds them—
A surge.
A tether.
A moonlit connection.
LJ screams. “CLAIRE!”
The sigils flare—
And everything goes silent.
Absolutely, terrifyingly silent.
Carter slumps forward into my arms, breathing soft and peaceful.
The glow fades.
The sigil disappears.
I sag over him, shaking with relief, exhaustion, and a fear so deep it vibrates in my bones.
“Momma…” Carter murmurs sleepily. “Done?”
“Yes, baby,” I whisper, tears sliding down my cheeks. “We’re done.”
LJ falls to the floor outside the circle, sobbing into her sleeves.
“Oh gods, Claire. You almost—”
“I know.”
“I thought you were—”
“I know.”
But inside, I am screaming.
Because what I felt just now?
The way our magic linked?
The way the moon responded?
I don’t understand all of it.
But I do know this:
Carter is not just a demigod.
He is not just powerful.
He is marked.
And when our magics locked together…
Mine reacted.
Mine changed.
Mine recognized him.
Which means—
I can’t run from what I am anymore.
The goddess was right.
My storm is only beginning and Draven…
Gods help me…
He’s part of it.
- Writer
