The Sleeping Luna

It was late, and I was sleeping deeply.

If anything, that year under the spell hadn't been all bad. It cured my light sleeping, something I'd struggled with for years.

Then the bed dipped behind me.

The moment his burning chest pressed against my back, my eyes snapped open. My wolf's fur bristled inside me.

My hand shot under the pillow. The silver dagger came out, its tip pressing right against his throat.

Kyle froze.

He raised his hands slowly, his voice low. "It's me. Did I scare you?"

Moonlight fell across his face.

I'd been looking at that face since I was twelve. Back then, just having him close would send my wolf rolling around in pure joy inside my chest.

Now she cowered in the deepest corner, eyes shut tight.

Kyle reeked of Freya. That cloying, sickly sweetness.

My chest clenched. The mate bond backlash hit me, pain slicing along my ribs from the inside out.

I bit my tongue and put the dagger back.

"Sorry. I was half asleep."

His brow relaxed.

"You used to recognize me by my footsteps alone."

"Did I?"

I paused.

"That was before."

He took it as me still being groggy, a hint of a smile tugging at his eyes.

I didn't bother with him anymore, just turned over to grab the blanket.

But Kyle tucked the corner in for me, gazing down gently.

"Freya's not feeling well. The healer said the pup might be in danger."

The word pup stabbed right through my chest.

I gripped the blanket so hard my hands shook, but I couldn't stop it. Tears spilled down my face.

Kyle looked away.

"I only touched her to fulfill her dying wish. It's not like I have real feelings for her."

I wiped my tears and forced my face into something careless.

"Kyle. I didn't ask."

He let out a breath.

Right. I didn't ask.

Before, if he was even fifteen minutes late, I'd storm into the council hall and chase off every she-wolf hovering around him. Everyone in Silvermoon knew I guarded my mate like my own life.

But now, he'd gotten Freya pregnant, and I hadn't reacted at all.

Like that year of sleep had finally taught me to be understanding.

The tension in his shoulders eased.

"This past year… you've been through a lot."

"No, I haven't."

"Sylvie. Thank you for being so understanding."

"What are you thanking me for?"

I thought about it seriously, my tone almost gentle.

"Freya saved your life. She said she was dying. You gave her the ceremony, the mark, repaid her for her final wish. Fair enough."

Kyle let out a long sigh, like a weight had finally rolled off his chest.

"Once Freya has the pup safely, this will all be over."

"Okay."

He leaned down and pulled me into his arms, his hands trembling slightly.

"Sylvie. Having you here… it means everything."

I looked into his eyes.

There was gratitude swirling in them. Even a flicker of relief.

Strange. I was supposed to be his fated mate. And now that I was completely dead inside toward him, he actually felt at ease.

He kissed the top of my head and walked out light-footed, saying he'd make me some bone broth.

Only when his footsteps faded completely did the spine I'd been forcing straight finally crumble.

My palm was bleeding where my nails had dug in, drops falling onto my skirt. But I couldn't feel the pain anymore.

All I felt was the hole the word pup had torn open in my chest, letting cold air whistle right through.

He and Freya had a child.

The thought hit me, and my vision went black.

I slid off the edge of the bed and hit the cold floor hard.

Turns out all that calm was just me refusing to fall apart in front of him.

I looked down at my wrist. A dark, bruise-like pattern was rising to the surface.

During that year of sleep, every time he touched Freya, these blood marks would glow, and the backlash from the mate bond would crash over me.

At first, the pain was so bad I nearly screamed.

Later, I just lay in that endless darkness, listening to them murmur through the mind link their temporary mark had given them, while wave after wave of agony rolled through me.

Once. Ten times. I lost count.

That was when my wolf went silent.

Outside, wind swept across the stone fortress.

The northern moon was bright.

That was the direction of the Frost Pack.

My real home.

Three more days. Then I'd be gone.