Shadows of Duty

Chapter Two: Shadows of Duty

The pack house had quieted. Most of the wolves retired after the patrol, their murmurs fading to the distant creak of wood and the crackle of the hearth fire below. The scent of blood and smoke still lingered in the air, but Eastin barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere.

Braxton stood near the window, arms crossed over his bare chest, amber eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight that poured through the glass. His silence was heavy, his jaw tight.

Eastin broke it first. “Go on then. Say what’s eating you.”

Braxton’s gaze didn’t move from the forest outside. “She shouldn’t have been out there.” His voice was low, controlled, but threaded with steel. “Not without a wolf. She was vulnerable. One wrong step, Eastin, and she would’ve been torn apart.”

Eastin leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “And yet she wasn’t. She held her ground. She learned something tonight.”

Braxton turned sharply, eyes flashing. “Learned what? That rogues don’t wait for her birthday to kill her? That the bond of blood won’t protect her when fangs are at her throat?”

Eastin’s lips quirked, though the weight in his eyes betrayed the truth. “She learned she can stand her fear. That she’s not helpless, even if her wolf hasn’t come yet. That matters.”

Braxton shook his head, pacing. His wolf bristled under his skin, restless, snarling. “She matters too much to gamble with, Eastin. You put her in danger to make a point.”

The Alpha rose slowly, the authority in his presence filling the room like thunder rolling in from the horizon. “I put her where she belongs. She is my blood. My sister. Until I find a Luna, she is the one who will carry the duties at my side. She needs to be ready. Not coddled.”

Braxton’s throat worked, but no words came for a long moment. He wanted to argue, to shout, to tell Eastin why the thought of Emry bleeding in the dirt made his wolf want to rip the world apart. But he bit it back.

Eastin studied him, eyes narrowing slightly. “You care for her more than you admit.”

The words landed like a blade between them.

Braxton’s jaw clenched, his silence loud enough to confirm what he wouldn’t say.

Eastin exhaled, running a hand through his auburn hair, the same shade as Emry’s. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but steady. “She’s strong, Brax. More than either of us give her credit for. Even in human form, she’s sharper, quicker, more stubborn than half the wolves in this house. She won’t break.”

Braxton finally looked at him, fire and torment in his gaze. “But she can be broken.”

Eastin met his stare head-on, Alpha to Beta, brother to brother. “Then you keep her from it. That’s your duty as much as mine.”

For a heartbeat, neither moved. The only sound was the slow rhythm of their breaths and the distant call of a night bird beyond the glass.

Finally, Braxton looked away, back to the moon. “One day,” he said softly, almost to himself. “She’ll see. And when she does…” His voice trailed off, heavy with the promise he didn’t dare finish.

Eastin’s jaw tightened. He didn’t ask. He already knew.

Emry sat on the edge of her bed, fingers tracing the carved wooden patterns in the headboard. She’d known this conversation would come up tonight. Eastin had told her weeks ago, in that quiet but unyielding tone of his, that until he found his mate, she would stand at his side, filling the role of Luna.

It’s temporary, Em, he’d said. The pack needs strength. They need to see family united. You’re the only one I trust with this.

She had agreed, because how could she not? He was her brother. Her Alpha. And she loved him more than anything. But loving him didn’t mean she had to like it.

Carrying Luna duties without her wolf felt like wearing a crown made of iron—too heavy, too sharp, cutting into her every time she shifted the wrong way. She could handle pack meetings, lead the younger wolves, smooth over disputes when Eastin was away. But nights like this—patrols, rogues, blood in the dirt—those were cracks waiting to split her open.

And Braxton knew it. That was the worst part.

Her jaw clenched as she thought of the Beta’s voice downstairs, low and edged like a blade. He had argued with Eastin before, sometimes fiercely, but when it came to her, his protests were relentless. She could picture it even without hearing the words: his arms crossed over his chest, his amber eyes blazing, insisting she wasn’t ready.

Part of her almost appreciated the concern. Almost. But his protectiveness didn’t feel like loyalty to his Alpha’s sister. It felt suffocating. As if he was waiting for her to stumble just so he could say I told you so.

Emry lay back on the bed, staring at the beams of moonlight that cut through the curtains. She wanted to scream at both of them. At Eastin, for thrusting responsibility on her shoulders when she wasn’t even of age. At Braxton, for treating her like a fragile human when she knew she was more.

But beneath the anger was something else—an ache she couldn’t name. The memory of amber eyes glowing in the dark, the way her skin had burned when his wolf had stood between her and death.

She exhaled sharply, pressing the heel of her palm against her chest as if she could smother the feeling. She would not break under their watch. She would not falter in front of the pack.

I’ll prove them both wrong, she promised herself. I’ll show Eastin I can carry this role. And I’ll show Braxton I don’t need him.

The howl of a wolf echoed outside, haunting and beautiful, a reminder that her time was coming. Soon, her wolf would rise. Soon, everything would change.

And though she tried to push the thought away, one truth echoed beneath it all:

When it did, Braxton would be there.

Sleep took her reluctantly, pulling her into a darkness that felt too sharp, too alive.

The forest rose around her, drenched in silver moonlight. Every leaf shimmered, every shadow whispered. She stood barefoot in the clearing, the air cool against her skin. And though the trees were familiar, something felt different—bigger, wilder, more dangerous.

A low howl echoed through the woods, and she spun, searching. It was not Eastin’s voice she heard.

Amber eyes glowed between the trees.

Her breath caught. They pierced her, unblinking, burning with an intensity that rooted her to the ground. She tried to step forward, to call out, but her voice wouldn’t come. Her chest ached, her pulse wild.

The shadows shifted, and a massive wolf emerged—dark fur bristling, teeth flashing. Her fear surged, but beneath it something else clawed upward. Recognition. Pull. A tether she couldn’t see but felt in every bone.

The wolf moved closer, slow, deliberate. Its gaze never left hers.

“Emry.”

The voice rumbled like thunder, not from its mouth but from the earth itself. Her name vibrated through her veins, hot and heavy, until her knees nearly buckled.

She tried to run. She wanted to run. But the bond wouldn’t let her.

The wolf stopped inches from her, its breath hot, its eyes searing. For one terrifying, electrifying heartbeat, she swore she felt her skin tear, something inside her clawing to get out—her wolf, begging to be born.

She gasped—

And woke, heart hammering, drenched in sweat.

Moonlight streamed through her window, pale and merciless. Her chest still burned, her skin still prickled, her name still echoed in her ears.

“Emry…”

She pressed a trembling hand to her lips.

It was only a dream. It had to be.

But deep down, she knew better.