Page 102 of Full Moon
I pull myself out fully, shaking the snow from my pelt in a cascade of white powder, before signaling the pack to follow. One by one, wolves emerge from the snowbank like spirits rising from the earth, shaking off the storm's weight and reforming into formation. We do a quick head count through the bond—every wolf accounted for, every heart still beating. Relief pulses through me like warm blood returning to frozen limbs.
We're okay and on the move again,I send to Easton and Diaval, feeling their concern ease at my words.
Good,Easton responds, his mental voice tinged with the fatigue of maintaining a vigil through the storm.That was a nasty one. We could see it from above—thought it might swallow you whole.
Takes more than a storm to kill a winter wolf,I reply, and I feel his smile through the bond before he falls quiet. The wind carries the scent of ice and rock as I lead the pack toward the cavern that will take us to Dunnum. My muscles ache from the hour spent curled in the cold, but the rhythm of running soothes away the stiffness.
In the distance, Diaval's dragon looms over the mountain like a dark god watching over his domain. His silhouette is stark against the pale sky, wings folded, head turned toward us—watching, waiting, protecting. A ripple of panic shoots through the pack at the sight of him, their fear sharp and sudden. To wolves who have never seen a dragon, he must look like death itself perched on the mountainside.
I reach out through the bond, soothing them with images of Diaval in human form—laughing at dinner, holding my hand, pressing gentle kisses to my temple.This is my mate,I remind them.He will never harm you. He is your protector now, as much as I am.Slowly, their fear subsides, replaced by the steady thrum of trust.
As we draw nearer to the cavern entrance, I let out a howl—a call of joy and recognition that echoes off the frozen cliffs. Diaval responds with a plume of hot steam that billows into the cold air like a dragon's greeting, and the last of the pack's tension eases as we slip beneath his massive form and enter the cavern.
The interior is exactly as I remember—icy walls that glitter like shards of crystal, catching what little light filters through and throwing rainbows across the frozen surfaces. The floor is slick beneath our paws, treacherous enough that we slow to a careful walk. Memories of our last journey through here surface fresh in my mind—the frost worms, the desperate fight, Khal's stone gaze saving us at the last possible moment. We killed both frost worms back then.
But as we move deeper into the cavern, the ice beneath us cracks with a sound like breaking bones, and a wormling bursts forth from the frozen floor. Only two feet long, it's barely a threat—more startled than dangerous, its tiny eyes blinking in confusion at the army of wolves surrounding it. I catch it in my jaws beforeit can flee, biting down with a satisfying crunch that splits it into three pieces. The taste is bitter, like frozen copper and decay, but I swallow it down and press forward.
Where there's one wormling, there might be more. The frost worms we killed must have had eggs we didn't find. Something to deal with later. Right now, we need to keep moving. The cavern grows lighter as we progress, the glow of the outside world drawing nearer with each step. And then I see it—the first of the two frost worms that Khal turned to stone, standing sentinel near the exit like a grotesque statue.
My pack-mates gaze at it with wide eyes, fear and awe warring in their thoughts. The creature is frozen mid-strike, its massive jaws open, its barbed body coiled to attack—captured forever in the moment before death. Through the bond, I share the story of that battle. The memory of Khal slithering through the darkness, of his eyes flaring with deadly power, of the worm turning to stone mere feet from where it would have killed me.
Their fear shifts to reverence—a respect for Khal that wasn't there before, an understanding of what he truly is beneath the charming smiles and expensive suits. I feel a flicker of pride from him through our bond, a quiet acknowledgment of his own worth that he so rarely allows himself.
For once, Khal sees himself as I do. Not a monster. A protector. A warrior. One of us.
The sharp clatter of rocks tumbling down the mountain snaps my focus upward as we emerge from the cavern into the pale daylight. My breath catches as I spot Diaval ascending once more, his dark wings cutting through the sky with powerful strokes. He circles above us, his shadow a reassuring presencethat flits across the snow-dusted ground, before dipping lower to glide effortlessly over our heads.
He's checking on us. Ensuring we're all safe before pushing ahead to scout the terrain. My heart swells with love for him—this ancient, terrifying creature who tends to me with such careful devotion.
I reach through the bond to Alec and Dorian, touching their minds across the distance.We're nearing Dunnum. Diaval's dragon will land on the outskirts soon.
Their responses are swift and calm, the practiced efficiency of betas who know their roles. They relay the information to the rest of the pack, ensuring everything will be ready for our arrival. By my estimate, we have about forty-five minutes left if we maintain this pace. The rhythmic crunch of snow under our paws soothes me as we run, a steady beat that drowns out everything else—the cold, the fear, the weight of what's waiting for us in the south.
Here, running with my pack, leading them toward home—I'm exactly where I belong. When the first houses on the outskirts of Dunnum appear in the distance, I slow, signaling the others to stop. The sight of the town—familiar yet transformed by the weight of our journey—triggers something primal within me. An instinct older than language, older than thought.
I lift my head to the sky and let out a howl.
The sound tears through the still air like a blade, echoing off the mountains, announcing our arrival to everyone within hearing distance. One by one, the wolves beside me join in, their voices melding with mine into a chorus that speaks of survival and triumph and the unbreakable bonds that tie us together.
When the last echoes fade, we wait.
The silence stretches, taut as a bowstring—and then Alec's howl rises in the distance, answered by Dorian's, and then the rest of the Dunnum pack. Even Torben's bear lets out a low, rumbling call that makes me chuckle despite everything. They must have him hauling the sled with our supplies again. My poor, long-suffering bear. A few sharp barks escape me, and we're moving once more, the houses growing larger as we approach.
Both dens—Dunnum and Crescent Valley—feel like home to me now. It's a strange but comforting realization, this sense of belonging that I've found here in the north. A freedom, an acceptance, that I never knew existed. As we breach the main part of town, I shift mid-step, grateful that my clothing remains intact. The cold hits my human skin immediately, but I barely feel it.
Dorian and Alec approach swiftly, bowing in unison. "Luna."
I nod, already focused on what needs to be done. "We need housing for the night for the wolves I brought from Crescent Valley. Is everything prepared?"
Alec steps forward. "We turned the alpha house into temporary housing. There are some beds, but it's mostly set up for them to sleep in their wolf forms, given the tight timetable."
"It's perfect." I glance toward my father's house, where my mates are already headed, their silhouettes visible through the frosted windows. "We'll sleep there tonight."
I turn to Dorian. "How did the hunters fare?"
His grin is broad and genuine. "Fantastic. That herd of sheep was exactly where you said it would be. We've got enough meatto feed everyone for the next month. Left three ewes and a ram alive to replenish the herd." Pride swells within me. These are my people. This is what leadership should look like.
A young woman emerges from a nearby restaurant, a steaming bread bowl cradled in her hands. She approaches with wide, awe-struck eyes. "Luna, I made this for you. It's lamb stew with barley. It'll warm you up after your long run."
