Page 115 of Full Moon
Chapter 50
Feray
My exhaustion is bone deep,dragging me down like an anchor, and there's nothing I can do about it.
Every bump and jolt of the sled as we make our way out of the cave rattles through my bones, keeping me from sinking into the sleep I desperately need. I drift off and on, waking only when one of the guys nudges me, their worried voices blending into the haze.
The air changes, and I catch the scent of the forest—earthy, fresh, alive. It stirs something in me, a longing for the feel of dirt under my paws, the rush of wind through the trees. But that feels like a distant dream now.
"This is as far as the sled can go," Khal's voice cuts through the fog in my mind. I hear the soft crunch of his boots on the rocks as he approaches.
"Who's going to wake her up?" Easton's voice drifts from behind me.
"I suggest Diaval," Torben says, his tone light but carrying that edge of concern. "He's a bigger predator. She may not try to tear him apart."
"Big brave Kodiak," Diaval huffs. The sled creaks as he climbs in beside me, his presence felt immediately—his dragon rumbling low in his chest, a sound that would send lesser wolves running.
My wolf bristles at the noise, a warning prickling along my skin, but then... we settle. There's something soothing in that deep, resonant growl, a reminder that we're safe. "You're scaring the pack, D," I whisper, my voice hoarse as I fight the urge to yawn.
My eyes flutter open, and the world comes into sharp focus—Diaval's worried gaze, the pale light filtering through the trees into the sled. I'm awake, but every muscle in my body protests, begging for more rest.
"You need to eat again, my eternal, and then we need to get everyone down the mountain path." Diaval's voice is gentle yet firm as he offers me the moose sticks my aunt packed.
"What are you guys eating?" I ask, suspicion lacing my words.
All four of them look sheepish, like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. They've been funneling all the food to me since I passed out, and now none of them will meet my gaze. My eyes narrow at the six snack sticks in the bag. Without a word, I shove one at Diaval, locking eyes with him before repeating the process with my other mates.
"If you don't eat, I won't eat." My voice is steady, leaving no room for argument. I place the last two sticks on my lap and wait.
Torben's bottom lip quivers—that telltale sign he's holding something back. "Little wolf, you need it more than us. You scared us."
His words hit like a punch to the gut, but I refuse to back down. "What if we're attacked? Then what? I have to worry about trying to protect the four of you?"
Easton is the first to cave, reluctantly biting into his stick. Khal follows, his jaw tight as he chews. Diaval and Torben hold out the longest, their resolve cracking under my stare. Finally, they give in, and a small victory settles in my chest.
"You make a valid point, my flame," Easton says, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he finishes and hands me a water bottle. I take it, the coolness grounding me as I drink.
Torben steps to the side of the cart and, with a gentleness that always surprises me, lifts me out effortlessly. He sets me on the ground, his hands lingering just long enough to steady me. It takes a few moments before I feel stable enough for him to let go, my legs still shaky.
My pack-mates zip around in their human forms, retrieving their backpacks from the sled. Apparently, everyone was waiting for me to wake up—like some twisted version of Sleeping Beauty.
"What's the plan?" I ask, glancing between Diaval and Torben.
"I'm still carrying you down the mountain," Torben says flatly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
I open my mouth to protest, but Khal steps into my path, his hand gently gripping my jaw, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. "You need rest still. After all, we don't know what else wemay encounter on the way down or out of the woods." His voice is low, each word measured. He makes a valid point.
I sigh. "Okay." The word comes out quieter than I intended, laced with frustration and resignation. I was finally strong enough to take care of myself. Yet because I exhausted myself, I feel like I've been knocked back to square one.
As we step out of the cavern, the sudden brightness of the sun halts me in my tracks. I tilt my head back, closing my eyes to savor the warmth seeping into my skin, chasing away the lingering chill from the cave's shadows. The familiar scents of the woods ground me in the present, and I feel my wolf settle, content in this familiar environment.
Drawing in a deep breath, I let the crisp air fill my lungs. When I finally open my eyes, I'm greeted by a sky painted in soft robin's egg blue, with tufts of cumulus clouds drifting lazily by. The sight is almost hypnotic, a tranquil contrast to the tension that lingers in the back of my mind. I allow myself just a moment longer—one final breath of peace—before I refocus on the task ahead. My gaze lowers, taking in the rugged trail flanked by jagged rocks that seem to stand sentinel, marking the path we need to take.
"I'm going to hunt for the family while you and the others make your way down," Diaval says softly, bending to press a kiss to my temple. His touch lingers, a fleeting comfort before he steps back.
Easton adjusts his tie with practiced ease. "I'm going to shift and keep watch over the pack and family."
As my mates turn to their tasks, I take one last glance at the sky. The peace I felt moments ago slips away, replaced by thefamiliar readiness that comes before a hunt, before a fight. I nod to myself, steeling my resolve.
