Page 136 of Full Moon
Chapter 60
Feray
As we pack,I can't shake the unease creeping up my spine like cold fingers. Khal took the SUV to refuel and grab snacks for the trip, but without him here, the weight of everything presses harder against my skin, suffocating in its intensity.
I feel the bone plates in my face shifting beneath my flesh. It's more than a desire—Ineedto shift, to defend myself from an unseen threat that lurks just beyond my perception. The itch is unbearable, and I rub my hands along my forearms, trying to calm the tingling, but it only intensifies with each pass until my skin feels like it's crawling with invisible insects.
"Are you okay, my flame?" Easton's voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts, and I stop pacing to turn toward him. His eyes are sharp, studying me like he always does, as if trying to see the storm swirling beneath my skin.
I meet his gaze and shake my head slowly. "Honestly, no. I'm not even close to being okay." There's no point in pretending otherwise—my body is screaming for a fight, for protection I can't offer right now.
Torben steps closer, his presence warm despite the chaos brewing inside me. He holds out a pretty scarf, and I take it with trembling fingers, draping it over my shoulder before braiding my hair into a crown. The familiar motions steady me, if only for a moment. "What can we do to help, little wolf?" he asks, though I catch the faint amusement in his voice—littleisn't exactly fitting anymore.
"I feel defenseless in my skin." My voice comes out raw and exposed as I rub my bare arms, the soft fabric of the scarf doing nothing to ease the sensation crawling beneath my flesh. Even if I were to put on my bone gauntlets, the rest of me would remain exposed, unprotected, and vulnerable to whatever hunts us in the dark.
"There were rumors," Easton begins, flipping open an ancient tome he brought from my father's house while his eyes scan the faded text, "that the collar and gauntlets were created so that you can wield your ice in human form." He turns the book toward me, and I peer at the passage as my heart skips a beat. The words are there, clear as day—a gift to the first winter wolf Luna, designed to focus her power while trapped in human form.
My eyes flicker over the old, delicate pages, absorbing every detail as my pulse quickens with each new revelation. "So, it's possible," I murmur, shaking my head in disbelief. Everything points to the fact that at some point, I should be able to use my powers without shifting—born of fae creation, designed for defense, for strength. But here I stand, powerless in my own skin.
I glance up at Easton, who watches me with careful eyes. "I may need Revelin's help with this," I say, motioning to the book and the passage about the bone gauntlets and collar. My voice issteady, but beneath it, the storm churns, waiting for the moment I'll need to defend us all.
"Ro, I need you," I call out, my voice carrying more command than ever before as the weight of the moment presses on my chest, thick like the air before a storm. In an instant, she spins into existence as if ripped from the ether by whatever magic binds her to me. Her small form tumbles forward, and I step in to catch her gently before she hits the ground.
"Whoa, spinning in flight like an arrow—not fun," she groans, clutching her head as I guide her toward the tome resting on the wooden table. Her tiny feet barely make a sound as I set her down, and she sways slightly before her focus sharpens on the pages. Her eyes dart over the ancient script, the drawings etched in blood and ink, and something flickers behind her gaze—recognition.
Easton moves beside me, silent but present, the bone gauntlets heavy in his hands. He holds them out, and I take them with reverent care, locking them into place on my forearms. The weight is a reminder, a promise of what's to come. As he drapes the bone collar around my neck, I feel the cool touch of power—ancient magic that hums just beneath the surface like ice waiting to be unleashed. It seeps into my bones, familiar and foreign all at once.
"I'm going to need the Prince's help with these," I murmur, more to myself than anyone else. "And learning to summon my frost while human."
Ro flutters closer, her small hands brushing against the gauntlets with something like awe. "Ancient, these are," she whispers, her voice low and reverent. "Powerful too."
I nod as the cold seeps deeper into my marrow. "I feel it," I admit, the honesty a sharp blade between us. "But I don't know how to use them."
Her tiny fingers trace the edges of the bone, and she nods sagely, as if she's the sole authority on the matter. "Intention needed," she says, crossing her arms over her chest with a firm expression. "Defense easier than attack. Attack out of need, also easy. But don't take them off—protect you, they will."
Her smile is small but knowing, and I grip her hand gently between my thumb and index finger. The connection sparks images and memories shared without words—the treacherous journey we undertook, the snowstorms we crossed, my army waiting in the northern towns. I hold back the small contingent I brought with me, deciding that Fi doesn't need to know about that, doesn't need to worry that I felt the need for wolves at my side.
The last images are of the paintings of my mother, my last living blood relatives in the arctic, the snow blanketing everything as flurries fall outside my bedroom window like whispered secrets. I release Ro's hand with a soft smile playing on my lips. "We're heading back to Briarvale now. We should be there in two days." She nods, her tiny form flickering, and then she vanishes, leaving behind only the cold and the weight of what lies ahead.
Khal returns just after midnight, moving with purpose as he gathers some of our bags. The air outside is thick with tension that seeps through the walls, but inside, I can still feel the warmth of Diaval and Torben's love as they work.
While Khal was gone, they swaddled the egg to my body with gentle, precise hands, making me appear pregnant again. Theweight of it feels oddly comforting, as if hiding it this way ties me to something deeper—something ancient and protective.
Khal's presence hits me the moment he steps closer. His musk—rich, heady, and familiar—fills the air, growing almost overpowering as he tucks me under his arm. "No one can scent you over me," he murmurs, his voice low and protective as he nuzzles my cheek, the scruff of his stubble brushing against my skin. His words settle something inside me, though the unease doesn't fully retreat.
He leads me out of the building with steady, deliberate steps, always keeping me close as the night air bites cool and crisp against my exposed skin. Khal's warmth anchors me as he carefully guides me into the center seat of the vehicle, his hand lingering at the small of my back before Torben and Diaval move in to flank me on either side.
Their movements are tense, calculated—more rigid than usual, and I can see it in their eyes, the way they stay pressed close, ever watchful. The attack scared them more than it scared me, though I suppose it's because their female was indirectly the target this time. They almost lost me without even having a chance to fight back.
Khal and Easton slip into the front seats, and the engine rumbles to life as Easton takes the wheel with his usual quiet focus. I can't help but glance at Khal as he closes his eyes, his body relaxing slightly into the seat, but I know he's still alert beneath that calm exterior. He's waiting for the next threat, the next move, and he won't truly rest until we're through Norburg and safely out of this mess.
The vehicle hums through the darkness, and I can feel the weight of their worry pressing in from all sides like a physical force. Ishift slightly, trying to make sense of my own emotions as the night rushes past the windows. The attack was a close call, but fear didn't grip me the way it used to—maybe because I've been the center of these attacks for so long that I've become numb to the danger, or maybe because I trust them, all of them, to keep me safe.
But something still feels wrong. Something I can't name.
I must have driftedoff somewhere between Redshale and Norburg, because the next thing I know, Khal is gently nudging me awake. "Precious?" His voice is a soft murmur, the kind that threads through my foggy thoughts and pulls me from the haze of sleep. My eyes flutter open, and it takes several moments for the world to come into focus. His face is the first thing I see, the faint glow of streetlights casting shadows across his features as he pushes his hair out of his eyes.
"I'm sorry to wake you," he says, his smile warm but laced with something else—an edge of tension beneath the surface that makes my stomach clench. "I just have to see two people. I'll meet up with everyone on the outskirts of town." He leans in closer, and I instinctively rise to meet him halfway, our lips brushing in a soft kiss that feels too much like goodbye.
