All Chapters of The Sacred Pack Of The True Luna: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

RaeBy Friday evening, Chrissy had worn down every excuse I had invented for avoiding the Harvest Moon Festival.She rejected homework because the instructors had assigned almost none. She dismissed exhaustion because, according to her, “festival cider was medicinal.” When I reminded her that half the academy had laughed while I ran from the cafeteria earlier that week, she stood in front of our door and announced that hiding would only let Rebecca enjoy the festival twice.That argument had been annoyingly effective.Now we stood beneath the stone arch leading onto the festival grounds while lanterns glowed overhead in long golden strands.The academy barely looked like the place I had spent the week trying to survive.Lights wound around the trunks of towering pines and hung between the buildings in glowing clusters. Pack banners fluttered from the stone columns, their embroidered crests catching whenever the lanterns moved in the evening breeze. Music drifted from the dance pavilion

RaeGrant stood beneath the lanterns, watching us.The moonstone gave one final pulse against my skin before settling.Brax followed my gaze first.“Well,” he murmured. “There he is.”Julien turned. Linc’s attention shifted to me for half a second before moving toward Grant.That brief look made me feel far more exposed than staring would have.Grant crossed the festival grounds without hurrying. Students moved out of his path automatically, conversations dipping as Ravenwood’s future Alpha approached the rest of his command.His gaze passed over Julien, Brax, and Linc before stopping on me.The gray wolf plush was tucked beneath my arm. My cider remained in my other hand. I suddenly felt ridiculous holding both.“Grant,” Julien said.Grant nodded. “Julien.”Brax lifted his chin toward the plush wolf. “Rae defeated me at ring toss.”“I won by two.”“An overwhelming defeat,” Linc said.I looked at him. “You weren’t there.”“I’ve heard enough evidence.”The corner of Julien’s mouth lifte

RaeBy sunrise, I had stopped trying to convince myself the dream meant nothing.The moonstone lay cool against my chest, innocent now that the darkness had passed. It offered no proof of the heat that had woken me or the pale light I had seen between my fingers.But the man’s name remained.Frank.My mother had spoken it with fear.By the time Chrissy stirred beneath her blankets, I had already dressed.She pushed herself onto one elbow and blinked at me. “Where are you going?”“To see Sonya.”Her sleepiness vanished. “Right now?”“I need to ask her about my mother.”Chrissy sat up fully. Faint silver glitter still clung near one temple from the festival.“Do you want me to come?”The offer warmed something inside me, but I shook my head.“I need to do this alone.”She studied my face before nodding. “Take your phone.”I lifted it from the desk. “I have it.”“And message me if you need rescuing.”“From Sonya?”“From answers. Sometimes they’re worse.”I slipped the phone into my hand a

RaeProfessor Mansfield stared at the moonstone resting against my sweater.“Where,” she asked again, “did you get that necklace?”Her reaction sent every warning inside me upright.I closed my hand around the pendant and tucked it beneath my collar. “It belonged to my mother.”Professor Mansfield’s gaze followed the movement. The color had not returned to her face.“What was her name?”I hesitated.After Sonya’s evasions and Harold’s warnings, giving another adult information about my mother felt like stepping onto the same thin ice Jesse had made me imagine beside the lake.Chrissy shifted closer to my side.“Why do you want to know?” I asked.Professor Mansfield looked from me to the damaged book spread across our table.“That symbol is ancient.”“What symbol?”“The silver setting around your stone.”My fingers tightened over the pendant beneath my sweater.Professor Mansfield pulled out the empty chair across from us and sat. “A crescent surrounding a circle. It predates every mode

GrantThe room became silent.My mother’s hand flew to her mouth.My father stared at me as though I had spoken in a language he no longer understood.“Since when?” he asked.“My first shift.”“You were twelve,” my mother whispered.“I know.”“You recognized her even with the seal?”“My wolf did.”My father looked toward the kitchen, his thoughts moving rapidly behind his controlled expression.“That should not have been possible.”“Apparently it was.”“Why didn’t you tell us?” my mother asked.The pain in her voice scraped against something already raw.“Because I thought she was human.”“That does not answer the question.”“I knew what claiming a human mate would mean.”My father’s expression hardened. “No. You decided what it would mean.”“I was twelve.”“And then you were thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.” His voice remained level, making every word strike harder. “You grew old enough to reconsider, but you continued making the same choice.”Anger flared through me. “You knew the truth.