The Moon: Zane's Perspective

James Blackwood's eyes keep dropping to my mark on his daughter's neck, a father's anguish poorly concealed beneath his carefully neutral expression. I understand his pain, the primal agony of seeing his offspring claimed by another wolf, but I feel no remorse. Sophia is mine now, by right and by ritual. The sooner her father accepts this reality, the easier his adjustment to life in my pack will be. I take a deliberate sip of coffee, letting the silence stretch until James shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"Tell me about Sophia's abilities," I say finally, setting down my cup with precision. "What did you notice when she was younger?"

James glances at his daughter, clearly uncomfortable discussing her as if she isn't present. "Perhaps Sophia should..."

"I'm asking you," I interrupt smoothly. "As her father, you observed her development from birth. I want your perspective."

Sophia straightens in her chair, her scent sharpening with irritation. I ignore her, keeping my focus on James. After a moment's hesitation, he begins speaking.

"She showed signs of empathic abilities around three years old," he says carefully. "She would cry when other pups were hurt, even if she couldn't see them. By five, she could tell us exactly what others were feeling, sometimes before they knew themselves."

'Interesting,' Conri rumbles in my mind. 'Stronger than normal omega empathy.'

I nod, encouraging James to continue while cataloging each revelation. "And the healing?"

"About twelve years old," James replies. "A bird with a broken wing. She picked it up, crying because she felt its pain, and when she set it down again..." He trails off, shaking his head as if still amazed by the memory. "The wing was healed. Completely."

"Dad..." Sophia begins, but I cut her off.

"Continue," I tell James, deliberately talking over her.

'Let her speak,' Conri growls, surprising me with his objection.

'Not now,' I reply silently. 'I need unfiltered information from the father.'

Sophia's fingers curl around the edge of her chair, knuckles whitening. I can feel her frustration building through our bond, but I press on.

"Were there other incidents? Other abilities that manifested unexpectedly?"

James hesitates, eyes darting toward his daughter. "She's always had unusually vivid dreams. Sometimes...predictive."

"Dreams?" I lean forward, suddenly more interested.

"Just dreams," Sophia interjects, her voice tight. "Everyone has them."

'Be quiet, little wolf,' I command through our mental link, pushing alpha authority into the thought.

Her eyes widen slightly at the intrusion, flashing with anger. Out loud, I continue as if she hadn't spoken. "What kind of predictions?"

James looks increasingly uncomfortable, caught between his daughter's obvious displeasure and my demands. "Small things, usually. Weather changes. Visits from pack members before they arrived. Once, she dreamed about a forest fire three days before it happened."

I tap my fingers against the desk, considering this information. "And her communication with her wolf? When did that develop?"

"Early," James admits. "Most pups don't connect fully with their wolves until puberty, but Sophia and Nyx were talking by age five."

"Dad, stop," Sophia says, louder this time. "You don't have to answer his questions like I'm not even here."

I fix her with a cold stare. "Your father and I are having a conversation. If you can't remain quiet, perhaps you should leave."

"As if that's a real option," she snaps back. "We both know I'm just another possession to you. A particularly valuable breeding machine you don't want the Council to get their hands on."

James winces at her words, but I keep my expression neutral despite Conri's snarling in my mind. 'Not possession,' my wolf protests. 'Mate. True mate.'

"Sophia has always been headstrong," James offers, clearly trying to defuse the tension. "Even as a pup, she questioned everything. It made her an excellent student but sometimes a challenging daughter."

"I can imagine," I reply dryly, not taking my eyes off Sophia's defiant face. "Continue with her abilities. Any other manifestations I should know about?"

For twenty minutes, I extract information from James while periodically shutting down Sophia's attempts to speak for herself. With each revelation, her unusual connection to moonlight, her uncanny ability to find lost things, the way animals seem drawn to her, Conri's certainty grows.

'Special,' he insists. 'Beyond omega. Beyond rare. Ours.'

The tension in the room builds steadily until Sophia abruptly pushes her chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. She stands, fists clenched at her sides.

"Sit down," I command, both verbally and through our bond.

She freezes, her body trembling with the effort to resist my alpha order. For a moment, I think she'll comply, then her spine straightens, and she takes a deliberate step away from the table.

"Sophia," James says quietly, a warning in his voice.

"I'm done being talked about like a prized breeding cow," she announces, her voice steady despite her shaking hands. "I'm done being commanded and controlled and claimed."

I rise slowly, letting my height and power fill the room. "Your father is at my mercy, little wolf. You don't want to piss me off."

She spins on her heel to face me, and I'm startled by the silver flare in her eyes, not just anger, but Nyx pushing forward, merging with her.

"Don't you dare hurt my father," she hisses, each word vibrating with power. "Don't you dare touch my father."

Something strange happens as the words leave her mouth, a sensation like liquid silver pouring through my veins, settling around my intentions regarding James Blackwood.

Not quite a compulsion as such, but a boundary suddenly made tangible. I reach for the anger that should come, the outrage at being commanded by anyone, let alone my own claimed omega, but it slips away from me like smoke.

The crystal tumbler in my hand shatters, shards embedding in my palm. I barely notice the pain or the blood dripping onto expensive wood.

Sophia storms out, the door slamming behind her with enough force to rattle the bookshelves. James and I stare at each other in the sudden silence, both of us processing what just happened.

"She's always been special," James says finally, his voice low and careful. "She was kissed by the moon."

My eyes snap to his face, something cold sliding down my spine at his choice of words. "Say that again?"

James meets my gaze steadily. "She's always been special. My parents used to say she was kissed by the moon goddess herself." He pauses, watching me closely. "She was born with a birthmark behind her right ear. A crescent moon."

I freeze, awareness crashing through me like ice water. The birthmark behind my own right ear seems to burn with sudden heat. The same mark. The same place. Impossible coincidence.

"Alpha Thorne?" James asks, concern creeping into his voice. "Are you okay?"

I stand abruptly, my mind racing with implications I'm not ready to face. "I need to find Sophia," I tell him, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. "You're welcome as a guest within the Midnight Eclipse pack until a permanent solution is found."

"Thank you," he responds, rising to follow me out. "I appreciate your hospitality."

I barely hear him, already striding toward the door, my thoughts consumed by crescents and moonlight and silver-flecked eyes that somehow commanded an Alpha. I head for Sophia's suite, certain that's where she'd flee to lick her wounds and gather her strength.

What I'm not certain of is what I'll do when I find her, now that everything I thought I knew about our connection has been thrown into question.