Chapter 7: A Place to Breathe

The room was quiet except for the crackle of the fire. Alex sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, unsure if she was allowed to touch anything. The blankets were thick, soft, and smelled faintly of cedar. The mattress dipped beneath her in a way that felt foreign — forgiving, instead of stiff and punishing.
Her fingers twisted into the fabric.
She didn’t realize Aeron was still at the doorway until he spoke, voice low and warm:
“You can rest here. No one will disturb you.”
She turned slightly. He wasn’t watching her like others had — not monitoring her for obedience, not waiting for mistakes. He was just there. Present, steady, unmoving.
“Every room in this house is under my protection,” Aeron continued. “But this one—” he paused, “—this one is yours now.”
Hers.
The word nearly undid her.
Alex swallowed. “I’ve never had anything that was… mine.”
Aeron’s eyes softened. “Then this is your first.”
He didn’t enter. Didn’t crowd her. He simply reached to the wall beside the door and tapped a smooth silver plate carved like a crescent moon.
“If you need me,” he said, “place your hand here. I’ll come.”
Not call me. Not I expect you to.
Just if you want.
Choice.
Alex nodded — slow, shy, disbelieving.
Aeron stepped back, but before he left, he added:
“No one touches you again, Alex. Not in my territory. Not in my presence. Not in your life going forward.”
The words hit her like a promise carved in stone.
A promise she had never been given.
Her voice cracked. “Why… why do you care?”
Aeron stopped. The firelight cast his expression half in shadow, half in warmth — like a man who had walked in darkness and learned to carry flame.
“Because you are mine,” he said — not claiming but recognizing.
Truth.
Soul-deep.
“Not by force. Not by bond. Not by fate alone. But because my wolf knew you the moment you entered my woods.”
Her wolf stirred. Soft. Warm. Safe.
Ours.
Aeron inclined his head — not a bow, but something more intimate. Respect.
“Rest now,” he said gently.
This time, when he left, Alex let herself lie down.
And sleep came like the moon settling over water — quiet, and whole.
Aeron sat outside the door all night, back against the wall, listening to her heartbeat through the wood.
Not guarding her out of duty.
But out of devotion.
– Council of the Night Fang
Alex followed Aeron through the hallways the next morning. The estate was quiet — not hollow like the Silver Moon pack house, but alive. Wolves passed them, nodding respectfully to Aeron, then pausing when they saw her.
Not with disgust.
Not with disdain.
With recognition.
Whispers followed:
Blood Moon.
Survivor.
Chosen.
Not omega.
For the first time, Alex walked with her head lifted.
The council chamber was a circular stone room open to the sky, where a shaft of winter sunlight poured directly down onto a mosaic of a full moon. Six elders sat around it — each wearing thick cloaks of woven fur and silver threading.
Aeron stepped to Alex’s side, not in front of her.
Introducing her as equal.
The silver-haired elder spoke again. Her voice was low but powerful.
“Child of Blood Moon,” she said. “You carry grief in your bones.”
Alex nodded. “I do.”
“You carry scars that were given, not earned.”
Alex nodded again. Her hands trembled — but she did not hide them.
“And you carry a wolf who has waited too long to breathe.”
The room seemed to still.
Then the elder asked the question that mattered:
“Do you wish to claim who you are?”
Alex lifted her chin — and knew there was no turning back.
“Yes.”
Aeron didn’t smile.
He glowed with pride.
“Then the training begins,” the elder said.
Another elder — broad shouldered, with eyes like dark embers — leaned forward.
“Your wolf is strong. But your fear is stronger still. You will have to face the memories that sealed her away.”
Alex felt her chest tighten.
Aeron placed two fingers lightly against the back of her hand — not holding, just grounding.
“I’ll be with you,” he murmured.
And the fear didn’t disappear — but it no longer controlled her.
She nodded.
The council rose.
“Then let the Moon’s heir rise.”