Moonbound to Power

SAMANTHA’S POV

The forest around Crescent Moon Pack always whispered to me.

Not in words, but in sounds—the shuffle of leaves, the creak of branches, the hush of wind through pines. I liked to think it was because the trees understood. They didn’t laugh at me or call me names. They simply stood, tall and quiet, and let me be.

That morning, the forest was thick with humidity, the kind that made your skin sticky and your hair curl tighter. I moved along the edge of the training field with my woven basket pressed to my hip, filling it with herbs for Luna Marie’s stores. Mugwort, plantain leaves, and wild chamomile. Little things I’d learned had their uses in teas, salves, and poultices.

I kept my eyes down, careful not to glance toward the sparring field. But the sound carried—heavy thuds of fists and feet, grunts of effort, the occasional barked correction from Beta Triston. The smell of sweat and dust drifted on the air.

They were all there—the future of Crescent Moon. Warriors in training. Wolves with strong bloodlines and stronger tempers. Wolves who never forgot to remind me I was not one of them.

“Look! The ghost girl’s slinking around again,” a shrill voice called.

I stiffened. Mila Rowan. Of course.

I bent lower, pretending to study a patch of mugwort. Maybe if I didn’t react—

“She probably thinks she’s out here making a magic potion,” Rose Ryder giggled, her voice sliding sharp like a knife. “What are you trying this time, Sammy? Something to sprout a wolf out of nothing?”

The laughter that followed was quick, practiced, rehearsed. They always performed like this, in trios. Mila, Rose, and Nella—the “pack princesses.” Daughters of ranked families. Perfect bloodlines. Perfect wolves. Perfect cruelty.

“Don’t waste your breath,” Mila sneered. “She can’t even answer back. That’s what happens when you’re wolfless. Useless.”

Heat crawled up my neck, but I didn’t give them the satisfaction of turning. I focused on plucking the herbs, my fingers trembling only slightly.

“You’re quiet because you know I’m right,” Mila pressed, her tone smug. “Tell me, Samantha, when you close your eyes at night, do you pretend you hear your wolf? Or do you just pray someone finally throws you out of the pack?”

The words landed like stones in my chest, heavy and familiar.

I stood, basket tucked close, back straight. I walked away, each step steady even though my pulse pounded in my ears.

Wolves don’t run from threats. That’s what they always said.

But I wasn’t really a wolf, was I?

Their laughter chased me across the field, thin and sharp, until the sound of the forest swallowed it whole.

Later, when the air grew heavier with the scent of summer heat, I returned to the infirmary. The moment I stepped inside, the smell of rosemary and eucalyptus wrapped around me like safety.

“Little leaf,” Luna Marie greeted softly, looking up from her mixing table. She always called me that. “You’re later than usual.”

I set the basket down, arranging the herbs carefully on the counter. “The training field was… crowded.”

Her hands stilled briefly, her eyes flicking up to me. She didn’t need me to say more. She knew. She always knew.

“They still haven’t outgrown their cruelty?” she asked, voice low but edged with disapproval.

I only shrugged. The words were too heavy to form.

She hummed under her breath, going back to work. “You’ve got sharp eyes, Samantha. And careful hands. A healer’s hands. Do you know that?”

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to cling to her words like a lifeline. But instead, I muttered, “Doesn’t matter. Without a wolf, I’ll never be more than a burden.”

Her gaze softened with something that looked like sorrow. “You’re special,” she said firmly, as though she could speak the truth into me. “The Moon Goddess doesn’t waste breath on things that don’t matter.”

I gave her a small, tight smile. She meant it. I knew she did. But words couldn’t shield me from bruises hidden under my sleeves or whispers in the halls.

When I was younger, I’d asked Alpha John why he kept me. I’d been thirteen then, raw and afraid, braced for the answer I feared most—that he’d only kept me out of pity.

But his voice had been steady. “Because I found you on our border, half-dead and alone. Because no pup should be abandoned. Because family isn’t only blood.”

I still remember that night clearly: the scent of pine smoke, the weight of his hand on my shoulder, the silver bracelet scorched into my wrist with the name Samantha. No parents. No wolf scent to tie me to anyone. Just broken bones and a pulse.

And yet, he’d taken me in. Raised me under his roof. Let me call Luna Marie mother in everything but name.

It was the rest of the pack that never forgave me for it.

That afternoon, I escaped to the southern woods. My safe place. Here, the moss grew soft and cool, and the trees swayed like they were humming just for me.

I knelt, fingers brushing along the green carpet. My chest felt tight, my thoughts heavier than usual.

What if I never shifted? What if I was never chosen? What if the Goddess had simply forgotten me?

A crack of branches behind me made me jolt, spinning around.

Beta Triston approached, his tall form cutting through the trees, his expression carved from stone. “Alpha John wants to see you.”

My heart skipped. The tone in his voice wasn’t sharp, but it wasn’t gentle either.

The pack house buzzed with tension. Warriors whispered in the hallways. The air itself seemed to shiver with something unsaid.

I found Alpha John in his study, seated in his leather chair, the firelight flickering across his lined face. He looked older than he had yesterday. Older than he had last year. The loss of Luna Marie’s health had already weighed on him, but now there was something else—a weariness that clung to him like smoke.

“You called for me?” My voice was small, almost hesitant.

He didn’t look at me right away. His eyes stayed on the flames. “I thought you should be the first to know.”

The words chilled me. My stomach knotted.

He finally turned, and his gaze was unreadable. “Elias is returning.”

The floor tilted beneath me.

“What?” I whispered.

“He completed his training at the Royal Court,” Alpha John said, his voice flat, measured. “He’ll arrive tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow…” My throat felt tight.

Alpha John nodded once. “He asked about you. Briefly.”

I swallowed hard, my hands clenching in my skirts. Elias. The boy who used to braid my hair behind the pack house. The boy who had whispered promises under the stars, swearing I was his. The boy I had clung to as proof that one day, maybe, I wouldn’t be alone.

He was my hope. My only one.

“Go prepare,” Alpha John said, his voice softening slightly. “You’ll want to look presentable.”

I nodded numbly and turned to leave.

But at the door, his voice stopped me.

“Samantha,” he said quietly. “Don’t hope too much.”

The words sliced clean through me.

Back in my attic room, I sat on the edge of my narrow bed, the moonlight streaming pale through the windowpane. My fingers closed around the chain at my neck—the one Elias had given me before he left. A small pendant, scratched but precious.

“You’ll be mine when I come back,” he’d whispered then, his eyes glowing with youthful certainty.

Now, with the moonlight cold on my skin, the memory hurt more than it healed.

I pressed the pendant to my chest, fighting the burn of tears.

Tomorrow, Elias would return.

And everything would change.