Chapter 7

Luna Anya's Perspective

I stood in Alric's private study, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows through the tall windows. The room felt heavier than usual, weighted with the conversation I needed to have with my mate about what Calla's return meant for our pack's safety. I'd been putting this off since her transformation three days ago, but we couldn't delay any longer.

"Alric," I began, my voice carrying the complex emotions I'd been wrestling with since seeing my niece shift into her golden wolf form. "We need to discuss the Waning Moon massacre. If they discover Calla survived..."

My mate looked up from the territorial reports he'd been reviewing, his grey eyes immediately focusing with the intensity that had made him such an effective leader. He carried himself with the quiet confidence of a man who'd earned his position through both strength and wisdom, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the slight tightness around his eyes that spoke to the same fears that had been keeping me awake.

"The group that destroyed Waning Moon pack," he said grimly, setting aside his papers to give me his full attention. "Eighteen years, and we still don't know why they targeted Isolde and Korran's pack specifically. But if they learn a Golden Wolf survived..."

I moved to the window, my gaze distant as I processed the threat that haunted my nightmares. "They didn't just kill everyone, Alric. They were systematic, thorough. The way they eliminated every trace of Waning Moon suggests they were looking for something—or someone—specific."

"And now that someone has revealed herself," Alric said, rising to join me at the window. "But how could anyone have known she was a Golden Wolf? Calla's awakening just happened—unless they have ways of sensing such power that we don't understand."

I leaned into my mate's solid presence, drawing comfort from his warmth. "She has no training, no understanding of her abilities or the dangers they bring. Right now, she's a beacon announcing her presence to anyone with the knowledge to recognize what she is."

"Which is why we need Connor and Marcus completely informed," Alric said decisively. "I've already spoken with them both. They understand the situation and have sworn absolute secrecy. They're like family to us, uncles to Thorne—if we can't trust them, we can't trust anyone."

Relief flooded through me. Connor, our Beta, and Marcus, our Gamma, had been with us for over fifteen years. They'd helped raise Thorne, had been present for every major pack decision. If anyone could help us protect Calla while keeping her existence quiet, it would be them.

"What did you tell them?" I asked.

"Everything. About Calla's survival, her Golden Wolf nature, the potential threats. They understand that her training needs to happen without alerting the general pack population." Alric's voice carried the weight of command decisions. "Connor will coordinate patrol schedules to ensure Calla can come and go without crossing paths with pack members who might ask questions. Marcus will handle security—making sure we can protect her while she's here without it appearing unusual."

"I've procured something that might help," I said, pulling a small vial of silvery liquid from my pocket. "A scent-masking potion. It will completely suppress Calla's scent while she's at Moonveil."

Alric examined the vial with interest, his eyebrows raising slightly, though he didn't ask where I'd obtained such a rare potion. "How long does it last?"

"Six to eight hours per dose. Long enough for training sessions, and I have enough potion to keep her supplied for several weeks while we assess the threat level." I tucked the potion back into my pocket. "It's not a permanent solution, but it buys us time to determine how serious the danger really is."

"And if her parents killers are already searching for her?"

The question hung heavy between us. I thought of my sister's final letter, the one that had arrived three days after the massacre, warning us to trust no one and revealing nothing about her daughter's fate. Isolde had known something was coming, had been prepared enough to hide Calla but not to save herself or her mate.

"Then we make sure they don't find her," I said with fierce determination. "Calla doesn't remember her parents or the attack—she was too young. But we dont know who we are dealing with. They might have ways of tracking her we don't understand. We need to be prepared for anything."

A soft knock interrupted our conversation. "Come in," Alric called.

Connor entered, his expression serious but not alarmed. As our Beta, he was responsible for pack coordination and internal affairs, and his presence meant he had information we needed.

"Alpha, Luna," he said, nodding respectfully. "I've reviewed the patrol schedules for the next two weeks. We can create clear windows for Calla's visits without raising suspicions. Most pack members will assume any increased security is related to the upcoming territorial negotiations with the Eastern Packs."

"Good thinking," Alric approved. "What about training locations?"

"The old training grounds near the eastern border are private enough, and Marcus has already positioned additional security in that area under the guise of border patrol reinforcement." Connor's expression grew more serious. "But Alpha, we need to discuss what happens if her abilities manifest in unexpected ways. Golden Wolf legends speak of power that goes beyond normal werewolf capabilities."

I felt a chill at his words. We'd been so focused on hiding Calla's existence that we hadn't fully considered what her training might reveal about the extent of her abilities.

"What kind of power?" I asked, though part of me dreaded the answer.

"The old texts are vague, but they mention enhanced strength, heightened senses beyond even normal werewolf levels, and something called 'pack calling'—the ability to sense and communicate with werewolves across great distances." Connor paused. "If any of those abilities manifest during training, we need to be prepared to help her control them without alerting anyone else to what's

happening."

Alric and I exchanged worried looks. We'd planned for hiding a young werewolf learning basic control, not for managing potentially unprecedented supernatural abilities.

"Then we start slowly," I decided. "Basic shift control, emotional regulation. We assess her natural abilities gradually and adjust our approach as needed."

Connor nodded and prepared to leave, but paused at the door. "Alpha, Luna... I want you to know that Marcus and I understand what we're protecting here. It's not just Calla's life, it's the hope that murderers of everyone at Waning Moon didn't succeed in their goals eighteen years ago. Whatever they were trying to accomplish by destroying the pack, Calla's survival means they failed."

After Connor left, Alric and I stood in contemplative silence, processing the full weight of what we were undertaking. We weren't just training a new werewolf—we were protecting a symbol of survival, a living reminder that even the most devastating attacks couldn't eliminate hope entirely.

"Tomorrow," I decided, "I'll give Calla the scent potion and begin her real education about what it means to be a Golden Wolf. Not everything at once, but she needs to understand that her abilities come with responsibilities."

"And dangers," Alric added grimly. "She needs to understand why secrecy isn't just important—it's essential for her survival."

I moved to the window again, looking out over our territory as the sun began to set. Somewhere out there, the Shadowbloods might already be searching for the Golden Wolf they'd failed to kill eighteen years ago. But here, within our borders, we had Connor and Marcus as allies, protective magic to hide her scent, and the determination to ensure that this time, we would be ready for whatever came.

As evening settled over Moonveil, I found myself thinking about my sister's final letter, the one that had spoken of dark forces and dangerous secrets. Tomorrow, I would begin preparing Calla for the complexities of a world where being extraordinary meant being a target.

"We should run tonight," I said suddenly, the need for physical release overwhelming my careful composure. "Just the two of us, through the back trails. I need to clear my head before tomorrow."

Alric's expression softened with understanding. "That sounds perfect."

But tonight, I allowed myself to feel gratitude that against all odds, Isolde's daughter had survived. The Shadowbloods had taken so much from us, but they hadn't taken everything.

And this time, we would be ready to fight for what remained.