Chapter Six

The Depths of the Knowing

Rissa’s POV

The smoky motel room was dusty and filled with the rays of the morning light slipping faintly through the motel window covered in dirt, the worn carpet painted with the long streaks of gold, I barely noticed it's effects . My thoughts spun in relentless circles, knotted with emotion, resentment, confusion, and something else I didn’t want to name. Hope, maybe. The kind that flickers when everything else has gone dark.

Mark’s voice still echoed in the fragile silence. His words like smoke choking my mind, impossible to hold and harder to ignore. “You don’t have to face this alone Rissa.”

But I had been alone. Since the day I felt the bond shatter, since Lucan turned his back on me and the title of Luna twisted into a chain I didn’t ask to wear, I’d carried this weight by myself.

The Knowing stirred beneath my skin.

I didn’t ask for this power. No one ever asked for the Knowing. It came uninvited, a haunting inheritance passed down through blood and pain. Older than the packs. Older, even, than the Moon Goddess herself, or so the stories whispered. It was a presence inside me, watchful, wise, and terrifying in its depth.

It murmured to me at night. In the hush before sleep, I could almost hear it secrets folded in the hush of wind, names that tasted like ash on my tongue. The Knowing didn’t care whether I was ready. It was awakening.

And it wanted me to listen.

I sat up, groaning as the soreness from last night’s turmoil settled in my muscles. Every joint ached. Every breath was a silent scream. The words Lucan had hurled at me still clung to my memory, sharp and cruel. “You’re still Luna.”

He said it like it meant something. Like it should be enough.

But that title… it didn’t feel like mine anymore. It felt like a crown made of thorns, beautiful to behold but agony to wear.

Still, I knew, I knew there was no going back. No unknowing what had been revealed. No burying what had awakened inside me.

I wrapped myself in the motel’s rough, thinning blanket and stepped out into the pale morning. The parking lot was cracked and empty, save for Mark’s old truck parked across the lot. Its presence was a silent promise. He was still here. Still waiting.

The neon sign buzzed weakly overhead, its red letters blinking in and out—VACANCY—like a cruel joke. This place had offered no refuge. Just another box with peeling walls and a bed that smelled like old sweat and lost dreams.

A howl pierced the morning air. My breath caught. It was distant but unmistakable the call of the pack.

My former pack.

Pain lanced through me so sharply I pressed a hand to my chest. Not from fear, not from longing, but from the bitter ache of loss. I was no longer one of them.

But I wasn’t something new yet either.

Then what am I?

That question haunted every part of me as I left the motel grounds, I wandered toward the edge of town, the weight of it all taking it's toll on me. The chill in the air bit at my skin, but I didn’t turn back. Something tugged at me subtle, persistent.

A pull I couldn’t explain.

I strayed off the road and into the treeline, clinging to the shadows as instinct led me to. The silence in the forest was unusual, broken only by the crunch of frost beneath my boots, My heart beating from the weight of what I might find ahead . I moved carefully, hyperaware. The woods were different today. Alive in a way I couldn’t quite name. I could feel them watching, I was prepared for any form of uncertainty.

My fingers tingled. The markings on my wrist those strange symbols I had spent my life hiding itched beneath my sleeve. I pulled the fabric up and stared at them, glowing faintly in the pale light. I’d never understood them. Not truly. But now… now they pulsed like they were part of the forest itself.

Like they were waking up.

I dropped to my knees beside a shallow stream, its waters cold and strangely clear. I dipped my fingers in, letting the chill bite through me, hoping it might still the storm building in my chest.

The current shimmered.

Not with sunlight but with something else. Silver threads flickered across the surface like starlight caught in motion. My breath hitched.

The Knowing stirred again.

I closed my eyes.

And the vision came fast and hard.

I was sucked into a dark void and the forest vanished. I stood in the middle of a vast, endless plain, it was as if the world held it's breath . The sky above was blood-red, the clouds streaked with shadows that moved like living things. Shapes surrounded me, wolves with ember eyes, their bodies shifting between beast and man. Not of this world. Not anymore.

And then he was there.

Mark.

He stepped from the crowd like he belonged among them. Tall. Steady. His presence rang like a bell in my bones. His hand reached toward me, steady and silent..

"You are not alone."

My mouth opened to answer, but no sound came. My hand reached, shaking but before I could touch him, the vision fractured. The red sky cracked like glass, and I was yanked backward, back into my body beside the stream.

I gasped, my fingers still in the freezing water.

The Knowing didn’t just speak anymore. It showed.

And it was hungry.

Back at the motel, I sat in silence, Silent tears spilled over, carving paths down my face like rain tracing glass, curled on the edge of the bed with the blanket around my shoulders like a second skin. My heart beat in my ears, loud and uneven. Lost without a trace of solace.

A knock sounded at the door.

Soft. Familiar.

I didn’t move.

Mark didn’t knock again. His voice came through, low and unsure. “Rissa… I’m not going anywhere.”

He meant it. I could feel that, even through the door.

Still, I stayed silent.

I was afraid. Not of him but of what I might become.

The next few days blurred together. I didn’t leave the motel much. Mark stayed close but gave me space. He was gentle with me in a way I hadn’t expected present but not intrusive. It made me wary. But it also gave me room to breathe.

He taught me how to listen. To feel the thrum of the Knowing beneath my skin like a current. I learned how to control it just a little. How to channel the energy that sparked from my fingers when I let my guard down.

At first, it was like trying to hold lightning. Every flare of power left me breathless. But with each attempt, I grew steadier. Stronger.

The Knowing didn’t just live inside me.

It was me.

But it was dangerous. Wild.

It whispered that I could take back what was mine. That I didn’t need a mate or a title to stand tall. That I could burn down the world if I wanted to.

I didn’t know if that terrified me more than it thrilled me.

Then the blood moon rose.

I stood outside the motel, the air heavy and charged with tension. The markings etched into my skin burned bright white, the sensation throbbing in sync with my pounding heart. The surge giving me a feel of pain and pleasure, My knees gave way beneath me. I dropped to the ground, breath ragged. The knowing compelling me to accept it's gift.

The Knowing surged through me like a wave, and I saw everything, lives I hadn’t lived, names I’d never spoken, wars fought in shadows and blood. It overwhelmed me.

I screamed. The sound echoed into the night.

That was when Lucan appeared.

He stepped from the dark like a nightmare. His eyes glinted, his jaw tight. “You’re playing with fire, Rissa.”

His voice was colder than I remembered.

“The supernatural world is watching. They won’t let this stand. They’ll come for you.”

I rose to my feet, the pain and power dancing under my skin.

I didn’t flinch. “Then let them come.”

Lucan stared at me for a long moment. Then he disappeared into the shadows again.

And I—Rissa, former Luna, bearer of the Knowing—stood beneath the blood moon, unafraid.

For the first time, I wasn’t just surviving.

I was becoming.