Don’t Poke the Luna Chapter 212

Xena’s POV

Logan walked toward the pile of wood where Dad's body lay. The torch flickered in the breeze, casting dancing shadows across his face. When he touched the flame to the kindling, the fire caught immediately, crackling and growing with each passing second.

"Goodbye, Dad," Logan whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the flames.

I closed my eyes as the fire grew higher, the heat warming my face even from this distance. The smell of burning wood filled the air, and I knew that soon there would be nothing left of the man who had shaped my entire world.

Ryder's arm tightened around me as my body shook with silent sobs. This was really it. Dad was gone, and there was no bringing him back.

Leonard approached carrying a large elm tree. After placing it into the pit, he finished the planting with his shovel. "We're not moving his ashes. We're letting them become one with the land where he died. This is what Dad wanted," Logan said as he walked over to sit beside Penelope. Leonard took a seat in the second row, next to Viola and his parents.

Everyone sat quietly, watching the ashes dance in the wind before settling into the earth. A low rumble in the distance told us a storm was approaching. How perfect that his body would seep into the soil, truly becoming one with the earth we all came from.

One by one, people began to rise and return to their homes or safe places. Logan and I just sat there, watching what little remained of Dad until the flames died out. Leonard stood and began digging a pit to bury the bones that hadn't completely burned in the fire. Only after Dad was completely buried did Logan finally stand up.

"Come on, sis." I finally tore my gaze away from the freshly dug grave to look at Logan. "I have a few things for you in the office."

I just felt numb. Not sad, not angry, just a blank emptiness.

Part of me wanted Ryder to hold me, but my pride stopped me. Instead, I gripped his hand and stood up, following Logan. My pace was much slower than Logan's, so I fell behind as we quietly walked down the hillside toward the pack house. Ryder never tried to make me walk faster, didn't even try to take charge. He just stayed beside me, being my anchor.

I'm not sure if it was out of habit or what, but when we climbed the steps, my heart started pounding violently. More than once I reminded myself that Martha wasn't here, that I was finally safe here. I could safely come back to visit my brother, to see my old pack members, friends, and any children they might have in the future.

Logan left the office door open since he and Penelope had arrived a few minutes before us. When we walked in, he was doing something on the computer. Penelope sat in an armchair, so I took the other one. Ryder stood behind me as we waited to hear what my brother had to say.

Logan sighed, ran his fingers through his hair, then rubbed his face before looking at me. "Dad left you this letter. He wrote it this morning." Logan handed over a vanilla-colored envelope that clearly contained more than just paper.

"What else is in here?" I asked as I took it.

"Keys and some other miscellaneous things." The pearl strand was still wrapped around my wrist. Logan's gaze fell on it. "Mom wore those at her Luna ceremony. It took him months to find those. He refused to put them in the envelope—he wanted to give them to you personally."

"Can I see her house?" I asked, my voice quiet but steady.

"Of course," Penelope said. "Actually, I have some things I want to offer you. Since I've been living there, away from Martha, I've organized and cleaned the house. I'm guessing you already discovered from the food that the recipes are in your mother's house. I made copies for you, but if you want the originals... I would understand."

It took me a minute to understand what she was saying. I was somewhat annoyed that she was offering to give me anything. These had all been mine to begin with, but Dad had indeed left everything to Logan in his will, including all items in the house. She probably felt she was doing a good thing, doing the right thing by offering things to me. But the problem was, she had picked through things she wanted before I had even seen them.

"Xena, we can walk through the house together and decide together what you want to keep and what we'll keep. Penelope only took out things like your baby blankets. Things you might want to give to your own children someday, things Mom picked out for you," Logan must have read the expression on my face.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to push down my emotions and keep my face expressionless. "Okay."

I couldn't even remember having baby blankets. Over the years, I thought those memories had been washed away by time. But hearing Logan say this now, a sourness rose in my heart for no reason. I didn't know if I was ready to face those items, those objects that carried my mother's love.

"Like my father, I'll work directly with you," Logan said, looking at Ryder.

"Understood. I'll handle things on my end. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to protect my pack," Ryder replied firmly.

I could see Logan read the subtext after glancing at me. "If you need anything, tell me," Logan said as he stood up.

Following his movement, I took one last look around Dad's office. Logan would probably change some things, but this would be the last time I'd see it as it was now. Ryder took the vanilla envelope from my hands and stood beside me.

"Do you need anything before we go to the house?" Penelope asked somewhat timidly.

"No... thank you," I said as I grabbed the door handle and gently closed the door. Ryder wasn't holding my back as we walked, so I reached out and grabbed his arm as we went down the stairs. People moved around, doing their work. Watching these people continue their daily lives, I suddenly realized the world wouldn't stop turning because of my pain. They had their own responsibilities, their own lives. But somehow, seeing life continue so peacefully made me feel a strange sense of isolation.

"We need to drive there. If you want to follow us, that would be great," Logan said to Ryder.

"Of course," Ryder nodded. He guided me toward our car and opened the door for me.

Sliding into the driver's seat, he placed the envelope on the dashboard, then started the car. He didn't ask me any questions or even try to make me talk. Instead, he started the car and followed Logan. He placed his hand on my thigh as I watched the pack house gradually disappear from view.

His hand was warm and steady. This simple gesture was worth more than a thousand words. He knew I didn't want to talk right now, didn't need comforting words, just needed to know he was here. Sometimes Ryder understood me better than I thought.

We drove through the small town that had been developing until we reached the suburbs. I clearly remembered how dense the brush in this area had been when I was little, but now it had been cleared. When Logan turned into a small driveway, it was partially hidden. Ryder drove slowly as we admired the stunning scenery around us. Dense, lush trees untouched by humans filled the entire space until the space opened up and a beautiful two-story house appeared before us.

The paint was peeling, but the structure looked solid. Wooden shutters flanked each window, some hanging slightly askew, giving the house a weathered but dignified appearance.

"It's beautiful," I whispered, my first words since leaving the cemetery.

Ryder squeezed my thigh gently. "It is."