Stay close

Luna's POV

The sound still hung in the air long after it faded.

A howl - long, low, stretched thin across the ridges. Not a wolf’s cry of hunger. Not a mourning call. Something else.

Around the camp, survivors stirred. A mother pulled her children closer. Men and women reached for spears.

Fires crackled nervously, shadows twitching with the flames. Everyone’s breathing turned shallow, listening for it again.

Kael stood first. His sword was already in his hand, though no enemy had yet appeared. His voice cut through the unease like stone through water.

“Circle. Now.”

People obeyed. Shields and bodies drew in. Children and the wounded went to the center. Spears angled outward, a spiky ring of protection.

“Breathe slow,” Kael said, moving along the line, his hand brushing shoulders, setting people straight. “It was far. It was one. We hold till daylight. Nothing breaks us tonight.”

No one argued. His steadiness pulled them like gravity.

I forced myself to move too, weaving silver threads between shields, stitching weak spots the way I had the night before.

My fingers trembled, but I kept the lines thin and strong. Kael caught my eye once. A nod. Approval.

Still, my chest burned with something I didn’t want to name. The howl hadn’t just been sound. It had pulled. Like a hook in my blood, sharp and cold.

I slipped toward Kael when the circle steadied. He was scanning the treeline, jaw set, every inch of him ready.

“Kael,” I whispered.

His gaze flicked to me, then softened. “Stay close.”

“I am.” I swallowed hard. “But… it felt wrong.”

He frowned. “The howl?”

I nodded. “It didn’t just echo. It reached. It felt like - it felt like it called my name.”

His whole body went still.

“Luna…” He stepped closer, close enough that his breath warmed my hair. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t know.” I pressed my hand to my chest. My heart still thudded too fast. “But it wasn’t just a sound. It pulled. Like the crown used to. Like something wanted me to answer.”

His hand rose, cupping the back of my neck, grounding me. “Don’t. Don’t ever answer that call.”

“I wasn’t going to.” My voice broke. “But what if it’s tied to me? What if this isn’t over?”

“It is.” His thumb stroked the base of my skull, slow and sure. “We ended it. You ended it. This - whatever that was - it’s noise. It’s nothing compared to you.”

I wanted to believe him. I leaned against his chest, just for a breath, letting his heartbeat steady mine.

“You don’t understand,” I whispered. “It felt like it knew me.”

“Then it knows it should fear you,” he murmured, lips close to my ear. “Because you’re not alone anymore.”

I closed my eyes. His words were an anchor, even against the echo still humming in my bones.

Hours dragged. Fires sank to embers. Guards rotated at the edges. Every snap of a branch made heads jerk. The children whimpered, then slept, then whimpered again.

Kael never sat. He paced the circle, a shadow with a blade, eyes catching every flicker of movement.

I stayed near him, weaving more threads until my fingers numbed. He caught my hands once, pulling them down.

“Enough. Rest them.”

“They’re thin,” I argued.

“They’ll hold.” His gaze softened. “Don’t burn yourself for ghosts.”

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered.

“Not easy,” he said, his mouth twitching. “Necessary.”

I huffed, but I listened. My hands curled into my cloak, aching.

At one point, a boy asked Kael if he thought the howl would come again. Kael crouched to his level and said, “If it does, we’ll howl back twice as loud.” The boy grinned, clutching his wooden spear tighter.

I watched Kael’s face as he stood again. He didn’t grin. But he looked at me, and I knew he had said it for me as much as for the boy.

When the sky began to pale, the unease didn’t fade. My eyes felt gritty, my shoulders heavy, but the echo inside me hadn’t let go.

Kael finally sat, resting on a log at the edge of the circle. He tugged me down beside him.

“Talk to me,” he said.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Start with the truth.”

I pulled my knees close. “What if it wasn’t just a wolf? What if it’s something else? Something bigger than us?”

He tilted his head. “Bigger than crowns and armies and mountains?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He leaned closer until his forehead touched mine. “Then we fight bigger. Together.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “Kael-”

He cupped my face in both hands, rough and warm. “Luna. Look at me.”

I did.

“You are not alone,” he said. “Not now. Not ever again. Whatever called your name doesn’t get you unless it goes through me first.”

I laughed, broken but real. “That’s not comforting.”

“It should be terrifying,” he muttered.

I pressed my face into his shoulder, letting myself breathe him in. For a moment, the fear quieted.

The sun was barely a smear of pale light when two scouts returned from the ridge. They stumbled into the circle, mud streaking their boots, faces pale.

Kael rose at once. “Report.”

The taller one swallowed hard. “Tracks.”

“What kind?”

“Large. Wolf. Too large.” His voice cracked. “Circling us. Not far. Fresh.”

The shorter scout added, “And not alone. More than one set. Heavy. Deliberate.”

A cold weight slid into my stomach.

Kael’s jaw clenched. His hand went to his sword again. He didn’t look at me, but his voice was steel.

“Then we know this much-” he said, loud enough for the circle to hear. “The shadows are watching.”

He finally turned to me then, eyes dark, steady.

“And we’ll be ready when they come.”