His Abandoned Luna Chapter 166

|| Lilac’s POV ||

The forest beyond Alaric's packhouse was alive with the scent of damp earth and pine, the towering trees casting long shadows across the narrow dirt path. Alaric walked ahead of me, his broad shoulders blocking most of the afternoon sun, his strides purposeful but unhurried. I trailed behind, my fingers brushing against the ferns that lined the trail, their leaves cool and slightly damp beneath my touch.

"She doesn’t see many outsiders," Alaric said, glancing back at me. "But if anyone can help you understand what’s happening with Runa, it’s Endora."

I nodded, though my stomach twisted at the mention of my missing wolf. Dormant. Not missing. That’s what everyone kept saying, as if Runa were merely sleeping and not gone, her presence in my mind replaced by an echoing silence that made my chest ache.

The path sloped downward, leading to a small clearing where a weathered cottage stood, its wooden walls covered in ivy, smoke curling lazily from the stone chimney. The air here smelled different— herbs, something bitter and earthy, and beneath it all, the faint metallic tang of magic.

Alaric knocked twice on the heavy oak door before pushing it open.

"Endora," he called, his voice softer than that usual. "I want you to meet Lilac, my Luna."

There goes the introduction! I should be used to it by now, right?

The inside of the cottage was warm, lit by the golden glow of dozens of candles. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, their fragrances mingling with the scent of burning sage. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with jars of powders, tinctures, and things I couldn’t, and didn’t want to, identify.

And then there was her.

Endora sat at a large wooden table, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug. She was older than I had imagined, her silver hair braided over one shoulder, her face lined with wrinkles that spoke of decades of laughter and sorrow. But her eyes— goddess, her eyes were sharp, a vibrant green that seemed to see straight through me.

"So," she said, setting down her mug. "You’re the one who’s been giving our Alpha so much trouble."

Alaric snorted, but I stiffened.

"I didn’t mean to—" I trailed off.

"Oh, hush," Endora interrupted, waving a hand. "Sit down, girl. Let me look at you."

Alaric squeezed my shoulder as he said, "I’ll be outside."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the woman who might hold the answers I’d been desperate for.

Endora countered, settling across from me. "Tell me about your wolf."

I hesitated. "She’s… dormant. Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Sometimes I hear her. Feel her. But it’s faint, like a whisper. I still have some wolf senses, and the speed." I traced the rim of the cup. "She called someone mate once."

Endora stilled, her eyes narrowed, "Who?"

"Elias Brown." The name tasted like asash.The traitor.

Her nostrils flared. "And do you believe that?"

"I don’t know what to believe anymore." I sighed. After my past life and the Elias incident, I was pretty sure I had the worst luck in mates.

Endora leaned forward, her green eyes boring into mine. "Let me see your hands."

I held them out, palms up. Her fingers, which were surprisingly warm, closed around my wrists, her thumbs pressing into the pulse points. A strange, tingling heat spread up my arms.

Then I heard her.

"Oh." Her grip tightened. "You’ve died before."

I jerked back, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. "What?"

"Don’t bother denying it," Endora said coolly. "Your energy is fractured. Torn. Like fabric stitched back together too quickly. I can see it all. How did you come back? I don't sense any magic."

I stared at her with a blank face. Just one touch and she discovered my truth! Alaric already knew it so…

“I am not sure exactly. The goddess sent me back,” I whispered.

She tapped her temple. "I see.”

“What happened to my wolf? Since I came back, she is… just a whisper in my head,” I admitted.

“Your wolf? She’s not dormant. She’s trapped." Endora said.

"When you returned," Endora began, refilling my tea, "your soul was fractured. Death and rebirth are not gentle things. Your wolf retreated to protect you—to give you time to heal."

"But I am healed," I argued.

"Your body, yes." Endora tapped my forehead. "But here? Here, you’re still at war."

I flinched. She wasn’t wrong. Every night, I dreamed of Kael’s blade. Of Coco’s laughter. Of the life I’d lost. And of what we should do to make things better.

"You fear your wolf," Endora said softly. "Because her return means facing everything you’ve buried."

The truth of her words struck like a physical blow. I was afraid. Afraid of the rage, the grief, the sheer power of what I might become if I let Runa fully surface. My wolf would force me to feel all of that once again!

"How do I fix it?" My voice cracked.

Endora’s smile was kind but firm. "You don’t fix a wolf, girl. You listen to her."

Endora stood, crossing to a shelf. She returned with a small pouch. "This will help. Brew it at night. It’ll ease the dreams."

I took it, the herbs inside rustling softly. "Thank you."

"Don’t thank me yet," she said dryly. "It tastes like swamp water."

I laughed, the sound startling even to me. I felt surprisingly light!

Endora’s smile softened. "You’re stronger than you think, Lilac. And your wolf? She’s furious. That’s a good thing."

"Furious?"

"She wants to protect you but she can't yet. A quiet wolf is a dead wolf," Endora said simply. "Yours? She’s roaring."

As we left the cottage, the weight in my chest felt lighter. For the first time in months, the silence didn’t feel like emptiness.

It felt like waiting.