What We steal for ourselves

The pups are sound asleep, and the room is cloaked in soft golden dusk. Mae peers out the window, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“I say we go tonight,” she whispers, her voice low but firm.

Savannah gapes at her, clutching the edge of the crib. “Mae, are you insane? If Cole finds out—”

“He won’t,” Mae interrupts, grinning. “Scarlet’s the Luna, remember? What’s he gonna do? Ground her?”

I stay quiet, pressing a hand to my chest. The ache of dread from earlier still lingers like a bruise I can’t quite reach. But the idea of fresh air, of stars and laughter and freedom, is too tempting to ignore.

“I want to go,” I say softly. Both of them whip around to look at me. Mae’s grin widens like a sunrise, but Savannah narrows her eyes.

“Scar, you’re going to the forest this weekend. This might be dangerous. You need rest.” Savannah warns, looking every bit of nervous.

I shake my head. “No. I need peace. Just one night. One moment to find my strength…before I go prove it to everyone.”

Silence falls. Then, slowly, Savannah exhales, resigned but fond. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Ride at dawn, bitches,” Mae whispers dramatically, making us all snort with laughter.

Later that night…

We sneak out wrapped in cloaks, careful not to alert the guards. Mae leads the way through the side gate she “accidentally” forgot to relock earlier. She smuggled out snacks and a small bottle of honey wine, her eyes glittering with triumph.

The moonlight filters through the trees as we reach a clearing just outside the pack’s boundary lines. The grass is cool beneath us, and the air carries the clean, wild scent of night.

We sit in a loose circle, passing the bottle, eating crumbled pastries, and talking about nothing and everything.

“I swear if one more elder tells me I should ‘marry up,’ I’m going to hex their soup,” Mae grumbles, tossing a pebble.

“Mae, you don’t know how to hex,” Savannah laughs.

“I do! I just choose not to because I’m not a psycho.”

I lean back and stare at the stars. “Do you think… if I fail the ritual, they’ll exile me?” My questions brings the spirits down tremendously. Mae gasps at my question and Savannah gets a sad look on her face. Neither can really know for sure not even I know for sure.

Silence.

“No,” Savannah says finally. “They might try, but Cole wouldn’t let that happen.”

That should’ve comforted me. It doesn’t. I lack the unwavering trust right at this moment and need. I should look to my mate and automatically know he’d go through hell to keep me here and safe.

“Still,” I murmur, “I wish I knew how to be strong like you two.” Unlike most omegas these two were the less robotic ones. They don’t do their duties and waste their life away in their rooms. The pack disliked them but they didn’t seem to care.

“You are strong,” Mae says. “You just haven’t had a chance to show it yet.”

A rustle in the trees.

We freeze, breath catching.

Mae stands slowly. “Probably just a deer—”

“Or a patrol,” Savannah hisses, eyes wide.

Another rustle. Then—movement. A figure steps out from the shadows. All three of us give a squeak, stepping closer together as if we could take on whoever it is.

I choke back a gasp. “Lloyd?”

He doesn’t speak right away. Just stands there, gaze sweeping over the three of us huddled in the grass like kids caught stealing pie. There’s no anger in his eyes, but his presence is arresting—quiet and unwavering.

Mae steps forward, hands raised. “Lloyd, listen—we were just getting air. No trouble, no drinking—okay maybe a little—but it’s just us! Please don’t tell.” I quickly can tell the panic in our hearts is shared. I frown at myself. I am the future Luna why am I scared.

“We’ll go back right now,” Savannah adds quickly.

I rise to my feet, heart thudding. “Lloyd, I’m sorry. I just needed a break. With everything…”

He looks at me for a long moment. Then, to our complete shock, he lets out a small sigh and gestures with his head.

“You’re in the wrong clearing,” he mutters. His expression settles on amusement.

Mae blinks. “Huh?”

He smirks faintly. “The guards never check the south ridge after midnight. There’s a little bluff near the creek—better view, and a lot more private.”

“You’re not… mad?” I ask, tenderly. Lloyd looks at me from the corner of his eyes. It’s as if he doesn’t want to face me head on.

“No,” Lloyd says simply, shrugging. “I am still young ya know. You shouldn’t be out here alone though. Come on, I’ll walk you there.”

Mae beams and grabs the bottle. “Okay, I take back every bad thing I said about you—”

“You said bad things?” Lloyd raises a brow, amused. He half turns to face her, a twinkle dazzling in his eyes.

“I implied them,” Mae clarifies, skipping ahead.

Savannah hangs back by me, still watching Lloyd carefully. “Why are you helping us?”

His gaze flicks to me, then away. “You looked like you needed a moment to get away.” He mumbles, clearly a bit embarrassed to have been caught in the act. I can only stare at him.

The path Lloyd leads us down is hidden—so well-tucked behind thorny bramble and overgrown brush that, had he not been with us, we would’ve walked right past it. The forest opens into a hushed clearing, the trees parting like a curtain to reveal a breathtaking bluff that overlooks the valley below. The moon spills its pale light across everything, catching on the river like silver thread and lighting up the fog with a soft, ghostly glow.

Mae whistles low beside me. “Okay… wow. Maybe you are good for something after all.”

Lloyd doesn’t even glance back as he walks forward, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. “If that’s your way of saying thank you, it needs work.”

Mae scoffs. “Don’t get cocky. That wasn’t a compliment.”

Savannah sighs. “You literally just said—”

“Let her live in denial,” Lloyd says with a smirk, finally turning around to face us, his dark hair catching the moonlight. “It’s cute.”

Mae narrows her eyes, grabbing a small berry off a nearby bush and tossing it at him. “Don’t start with me, pretty boy.”

Lloyd catches it in one hand with ease, lifts it in mock salute, and pops it into his mouth. “Mmm. Sour. Like you.”

Savannah lets out an actual laugh, which shocks even her, and Mae gasps like she’s been personally insulted. “You did not just say that!”

Lloyd leans casually against a tree, clearly amused. “I did. You’re welcome.”

They keep bantering, and the air feels lighter than it has in weeks. For a moment, it’s easy to pretend we’re just a bunch of normal friends sneaking out for fun. But that illusion doesn’t last long for me. I’m smiling, but my heart feels… misplaced.

The way Lloyd jokes with Mae—so effortlessly—it pulls something uncomfortable in me. Not quite anger. Not quite sadness. Just a hollow ache. Cole hasn’t glanced my way for the rest of the day. He only spoke when I attempted to walk past him without saying a greeting, I’m sure it irritated him. I fold my arms, trying to ignore it, but I catch myself watching them longer than I mean to.

Mae’s eyes are bright. She’s glowing in the moonlight, hair wild and laughter bubbling out of her without restraint. Lloyd looks at her like she’s a storm he could survive. I don’t know why it bothers me. I’ve never seen him look at me that way. Or is it the loneliness of Cole?

I slowly back away from the group, retreating toward the edge of the bluff. The cool breeze lifts my hair, brushing it against my cheeks, and I hug my arms tighter around myself.

“Jealous of the view?” a quiet voice asks behind me.

I startle slightly, turning to find Lloyd a few paces away. He stands there with that half-smile, the kind that doesn’t show his teeth but somehow still softens him. I find myself desperately wanting to join the soft hearted banter that just happened.

“More like surprised,” I say, voice lower than I intend. “Didn’t think you’d help us.”

He raises a brow. “Is that what you think of me?”

“I think…” I trail off, chewing my lip before deciding to evade the question. “I think you’re usually trying to disappear. And helping us sneak out? That’s the opposite of disappearing.”

He exhales a slow breath and moves to stand beside me, close enough that I can feel the heat from his arm, but not close enough to touch.

“Sometimes,” he says, voice thoughtful, “it’s easier to disappear than to be misunderstood. Easier to distance than to react.”

I glance at him. There’s something heavy in his tone, something that makes my chest tighten.

“You didn’t have to help us,” I say after a beat. “But you did. So… thank you. For not turning us in. And for bringing us here.”

He looks at me, the moonlight catching the side of his face, turning his eyes a softer gray.

“You needed to breathe,” he says. “Even you can’t carry it all the time.”

I nod, not trusting myself to say anything more. My throat feels tight.

He watches me for a second longer, then tilts his head toward the others. “We should go before Mae starts climbing trees and dares Savannah to howl.”

I smile despite myself. “They’re already halfway there.”

As he walks back toward the group, I linger a little longer, the night wrapping around me like a blanket. In the distance, Mae is laughing again, and Savannah is trying to hold her back from something ridiculous. Lloyd stands in the middle of it all—arms crossed, smirking—and for once, he looks like he belongs there.

I whisper a soft thank you and he falters in his smirk. He looks over and the sharp edge of the smirk falls. A soft smile replaces it.

I linger by the edge of the bluff, the wind tugging gently at the ends of my sleeves. The others have settled back into laughter and half-whispered jokes, their silhouettes dim outlines in the dark. I’m not quite ready to rejoin them. My heart feels swollen with too many things—guilt, confusion, and that ache I can’t quite name.

Then I feel it.

A warm hand slides into mine—steady, sure.

I look up, startled, only to find Lloyd beside me again. His touch is gentle, no pressure in it, just an unspoken offer.

“You coming?” he asks softly, eyes lifting toward the sky. “The stars are out tonight. Might as well enjoy something while we’re here.”

For a second, I forget how to breathe. My hand stays in his, smaller and trembling in his steady grip. I nod before I can second-guess it, letting him lead me back toward the center of the clearing.

The grass is soft where it thins into moss. Mae is already lying on her back, pointing out constellations with dramatic flair. Savannah is curled beside her, clearly pretending to be unimpressed but still smiling.

Lloyd tugs me gently down beside him, our shoulders just barely touching as we lay back. The stars above are so bright it’s like someone scattered a handful of diamonds across a canvas of deep velvet. For the first time in what feels like forever, the silence feels like peace instead of punishment.

“That one looks like a rabbit,” Mae says, pointing upward.

Savannah snorts. “You said it was a wolf five minutes ago.”

“Well maybe it’s a shape-shifting wolf-rabbit,” Mae argues, tossing a leaf at her.

I laugh quietly, and beside me, I feel Lloyd shift slightly—closer, maybe, or maybe it’s just that I’m noticing him more now.

“See that one?” he murmurs, pointing with his free hand. “That’s Lyra. They say it’s named after a lyre that could charm even the gods.”

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

“You always look at things like that,” he says suddenly, voice low. “Like you want to believe in the stories. Even the sad ones.”

I turn to look at him. He’s already watching me.

“It’s easier than believing in silence,” I reply, just as quietly.

His hand is still in mine.

And I don’t let go.

But just as I begin to breathe in that fragile sense of calm, it hits me—this is wrong.

I shouldn’t feel safe here. Not like this. Not with him.

I think of Cole.

The way he held me when I cried. The flowers. His promises. His pain. The pressure he’s under. The way he said, “Don’t start with the tears.”

The ache in my chest sharpens, twisting something in me.

I yank my gaze away from Lloyd and up at the stars again, trying to drown the guilt that’s suddenly roaring in my ears. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be happy.

Not when Cole’s fighting for me. Not when I’ve been nothing but a burden lately.

My throat tightens. My hand twitches in Lloyd’s grip.

But he doesn’t tighten his hold. He doesn’t try to keep me there.

He just quietly lets me be.

And somehow… that makes the guilt worse.