Page 96 of Full Moon
Chapter 42
Feray
Sometimes you just have to follow yourgut.
The air is crisp and biting, cutting through my thin clothing like blades forged from winter itself. I stand in the center of the town square, the ancient cobblestones buried beneath a foot of packed snow, and the tundra stretches out around me in a vast sea of white that swallows the horizon whole. The sun hangs low in the sky, painting everything in shades of pale gold and rose, the kind of light that makes the ice crystals in the air sparkle like diamond dust.
My howl still echoes through the valley, reverberating off the distant mountains and carrying across the frozen expanse like a declaration of war. The sound is raw and primal, tearing from my throat with a power I didn't know I possessed until I came here. Until I found my people.
Answering howls rise from every direction—some close enough to make my ears twitch, some so distant they're barely whispers on the wind, and some coming from the north where I hadn't realized our territory extended. The voices of my people, callingback to their Luna, acknowledging my summons with the ancient tradition that binds all wolves together.
Our numbers are greater than I dared hope.
Within an hour, nearly seven hundred wolves stand before me in the snow-covered square, their breath forming clouds in the frozen air that rise and mingle like spirits gathering for battle. Their eyes—amber and gold and ice blue and every shade between—are filled with curiosity and a simmering rage that mirrors the inferno building in my own chest.
They've come from villages I didn't know existed, from outposts carved into mountainsides, from frozen valleys where the sun barely touches in winter. They've come wearing furs and leather, some still in their wolf forms with frost clinging to their whiskers, others standing bare-chested in the cold because winter wolves don't feel the bite of ice the way others do.
They've come because I called. And they're ready to follow me into hell itself.
Through the pack bond, I share the forbidden notes and hidden knowledge I've discovered—my mother's suspicions given form, the names of council members she never trusted, the evidence of conspiracy that has been building for generations like poison accumulating in the blood.
The revelations spread through the gathered wolves like wildfire across dry grass. I feel their reactions as clearly as my own heartbeat—shock rippling through some, grim confirmation settling over others who always suspected but never had proof.
Both councils conspired in my parents' deaths. They poisoned unborn pups to find me, murdering innocent children in their desperate hunt for a single winter wolf. They sent assassinswrapped in shadow and wendigos stitched together from corpses and dark magic to finish what the poison started. They hoped to extinguish the winter wolves' legacy forever, to wipe our bloodline from existence before we could ever challenge their corrupt reign.
Anger surges through me, hot and bright despite the ice in my veins, but beneath it lies something stronger—a deep resolve that settles into my bones like permafrost claiming the earth.
They underestimated us. They forgot the resilience that flows through winter wolf veins, the same stubbornness that allowed our ancestors to survive when every other species would have crumbled. One wolf. One chance. And they failed to kill me. Now they're going to learn what happens when a winter wolf stops running and starts hunting.
I project a vision into the minds of my pack—a future where we are free, where the ice cavern ward no longer binds us to this frozen prison, where we can walk through all the realms without fear of execution simply for existing. I show them green valleys and warm forests and cities where they could live openly, no longer hiding what they are.
Then I show them the locations of their missing mates scattered across Briarvale, Thornford, and Blackmore—wolves and bears and other shifters living half-lives without knowing their true partners are trapped behind walls of ancient magic, waiting for them.
Excitement ripples through those whose mates I have found, their joy blazing through the bond like sunrise breaking over mountains. With my Luna gifts, I calm the roiling emotions before they can spiral into chaos, smoothing their eagerness intosomething more controlled. I assure them the time will come to call their mates to us.
I express my desire to rebuild Silver Falls as a haven for those with mates in warmer climates—a bridge between worlds, a place where the frozen north can finally reconnect with the lands that forgot we existed. For the first time in twenty years, my people dare to hope.
My betas step forward, their faces serious beneath the hoods of their fur-lined cloaks. I assign them the task of forming a guard to accompany me south, selecting wolves who can move fast and fight hard and keep their heads when blood starts flowing.
By my calculations, avoiding the main roads will allow us to reach Briarvale in just over a week. It's a long journey through harsh terrain, but necessary—the councils have eyes everywhere, and a Luna traveling openly would be noticed before we crossed the first border.
But my betas suggest a different approach—that I travel by vehicle with my mates while the pack makes its way across the continent on foot. They know these lands better than any map could show, the hidden paths and secret passages that even the council's spies have never found.
I glance at Diaval through the bond.Thoughts?
"It's a solid plan," he replies, his breath misting in the cold air as he moves to stand beside me. "Let them traverse the continent and meet us there. They'll be harder to track moving through the wild places." He turns to Torben. "How many empty cabins do you have near your sleuth? Or a large barn to house the troops?"
Torben pulls out his phone, his thick fingers moving across the screen with surprising dexterity. "Three cabins with threebedrooms each. We can add bunks—my people are good at building fast. There's also a barn we can convert for more space." He sends the message with a final tap. "It'll be ready by the time we arrive."
I shift back to human form, grateful that my clothing remains intact, and turn to Khal. His dark eyes are fixed on his phone, the screen's glow casting sharp shadows across his features as he analyzes data that could mean life or death.
"Anywhere I should tell the pack to avoid?" He steps closer, his warmth brushing against my side as he angles the phone so I can see the map he's been studying. Red and green dots mark territories across the continent, a constellation of danger and safety that shifts with every passing day. There are so many red dots.
"Moors Farm is occupied," he says, pointing to a cluster of crimson near the eastern mountains. "And so is Norburg. There's also increased activity near the southern pass—council scouts in areas they don't normally patrol."
Using the bond, I send my betas the image of the map and outline a route—along the mountain edge until they reach Redshale, skirting the mining town that doesn't ask questions, through the dense forest south of the inn we avoided on our journey north, then swimming the river at its narrowest point where the current runs slow. From there, toward Torben's sleuth territory, steering clear of Briarvale altogether until we're ready to reveal our numbers.
My gut twists with unease, but it's the best plan I can devise with the information we have. Jurian shifts back to human form, his powerful body steaming in the cold air as he wraps a towelaround his waist. "Why are we taking such a roundabout way? We have the numbers."
