The Moon Remembers
Three year after my death, my former mate returned—
not to mourn me,
but to make use of me one last time.
It was the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year—the night when wolves whispered to the dead.
“Where’s Mira Thorne?” Rowan demanded as he strode downstairs into the tavern beneath the den. “Her lived here—Gavin’s sister. I need to find her.”
Dorian, the tavern keeper, glanced up slowly. “Mira?” he repeated, wiping his hands on a cloth. “She’s gone, Doctor. Died three winters ago. Same night the Moon rose red.”
Rowan’s brows knit. “Dead? That’s impossible. There’s no record.”
Dorian’s voice softened. “The family from that healing case—remember them? They found her in the alley behind this inn. Tore her apart before dawn. The healers couldn’t even retrieve her wolf.”
Rowan froze, a flicker of disbelief passing across his face before irritation took over.
“No. She’s pretending. She’s doing this to make me feel guilty.” he said sharply. “She’s hiding. She always was weak. Tell her if her doesn’t come out within three days, I’ll stop sending money for brother’s treatment.”
He turned abruptly and left, the tavern door slamming behind him.
Dorian sighed after him., shaking his head.
“brother? Her brother died before the healers even arrived… there was never any money for treatment.”
The silence that followed was heavier than snow.
Dorian watched the falling snow and murmured to the empty air, “No one pretends death, Doctor. Not when they’ve already lost everything.”