The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 108

As he led me out into the dim hall, Tyson fell into step behind me, his hand brushing the small of my back like a silent promise.

The estate was hushed as we walked — wolves stepping aside, heads bowed. Every face we passed carried grief and exhaustion, but also… hope.

And when we reached the small infirmary where the cub’s body lay, wrapped in white linen, I knelt beside him. The world fell quiet again.

I drew a breath, steadying the tremor in my chest. The pack needed more than grief tonight; they needed direction, a ritual to take their sorrow and sharpen it into resolve.

“We bury him under the moon our way,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. My voice surprised me — clear, steady. “A ceremonial burial. Not just to mourn but to bind us together. To remember and to promise.”

Toren’s jaw flexed. “You mean a proper Luna rite.”

I nodded. “A proper Luna rite.”

Someone muttered approval. A few exhaled; shoulders unknotted a fraction. The murmurs peeled away and the clearing grew quiet.

I drew in a steadying breath, feeling the weight of every eye on me. My chest ached, but I couldn’t let them see that—I needed to be strong for them.

“Prepare the burial,” I said finally, my voice clear and firm. “Or a burning ceremony, if the family prefers. I want it ready by moonrise.”

The pack stilled for a moment before quiet murmurs of agreement rippled through the air. Wolves began to move—some toward the clearing, others to gather wood and cloth.

“This isn’t just about mourning,” I continued, my gaze sweeping over them. “It’s about who we are. We fight together, we bleed together, and we heal together."

Heads lifted. Shoulders straightened.

I could feel the shift—the heaviness of loss turning into something sharper, stronger. “Let this ceremony remind us what binds us,” I said softly. “Our loyalty, our love, and the moon that watches over us all. We’ll bury our dead, burn away our fear, and rise stronger when the sun comes.”

A low growl of agreement rolled through the pack—grief, pride, and unity blending together.

A few wolves stepped closer, hesitant at first, then with purpose. One of the older women — a healer with streaks of silver through her dark hair — bowed her head. “Luna,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “You brought our Alpha back to us. You saved my son. Thank you.”

I blinked, caught between humility and disbelief. “I didn’t do it alone,” I murmured, glancing toward Toren and Tyson.

But she shook her head, smiling faintly. “It doesn’t matter. You were the light that pulled them through.”

Behind her, two younger warriors approached, both covered in soot and bandages. They knelt briefly, fists pressed to their chests. “We’ve never had a Luna stand on the front lines before,” one said, his voice rough but full of pride. “It’s an honor to follow you.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. I opened my mouth to tell them to stand, but they were already rising, moving to help prepare the small courtyard for the ceremony.

Another voice came from the crowd — a small one, wavering.

A girl, no older than twelve, stepped out from behind her mother’s legs. “Luna?” she asked shyly, holding out a tiny sprig of wildflowers. “Can I give this to him? So he’s not lonely?”

The air caught in my throat. I took the flowers with trembling fingers and managed a smile. “That’s perfect,” I said softly. “He’ll like that very much.”

The girl’s mother pulled her close again, murmuring thanks before guiding her away.

As more wolves passed, they bowed — some briefly, others deeply, a few pressing their hands to their hearts. Gratitude shimmered in their eyes. Respect. Not fear.

Toren’s gaze followed the motion, then settled back on me. “You’ve earned their trust,” he said quietly. “And that’s not something that comes easy in this pack.”

“I don’t want their worship,” I replied, watching another wolf set down candles near the cub’s small form. “I just want them to feel safe.”

He smiled faintly — tired, but proud. “That’s what makes you Luna, Starlight.”

He stepped closer, voice low so only I could hear. “Did you…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed, struggling with the words. “Did you accept Tyson’s bond?”

The question caught me off guard. Around us, the faint hum of preparation carried on — wolves murmuring, the scrape of shovels, the soft whisper of wind through the trees — but all I could focus on was him.

“Yes,” I admitted softly. “I did.”

For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. Then his jaw tightened, the emotion flickering in his eyes somewhere between hurt and resignation.

I reached for his hand, my thumb tracing slow circles over his knuckles. “Talon,” I whispered, “please don’t do that. Don’t shut down on me. I will accept yours — soon. When it’s right. When the bond calls for it. I don’t have control over when it happens.”

He searched my face for a moment, his breath uneven. “It’s hard,” he confessed finally, voice barely a whisper. “Watching it happen for them… knowing it’s supposed to happen for me too.”

“I know,” I said, stepping closer until the heat of him brushed against my skin. “And it will. I promise.”

Before he could say another word, I leaned in and kissed him — slow, gentle, reassuring. His breath hitched, and I felt the tension drain from his shoulders as he kissed me back, his hand coming up to cradle the side of my neck.

When we parted, I smiled faintly, brushing my thumb over his cheek. “See? You’re still mine, Talon.”

His eyes softened, the storm in them quieting. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess I am.”

I turned then, catching Tyson’s gaze — those wild, dark eyes that always seemed to see too much. He didn’t need words. When I reached for him, he met me halfway, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was rougher, hungrier — the kind that said everything he didn’t dare speak aloud.

And when I finally pulled back, Toren was there.

He didn’t hesitate. His hand slid to the back of my neck as he kissed me with a kind of reverence that made my chest ache. It wasn’t possessive — it was grounding, claiming in the way only an Alpha could be.

When the kiss broke, the air around us shifted. The courtyard had gone quiet again.

I didn’t need to look to know eyes were on us — curious, confused, maybe even judgmental. But that didn’t matter. They’d learn. They’d see soon enough that this wasn’t chaos. This was balance.

Three Alphas. One Luna. One heartbeat.

And the pack would learn to follow it.