The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 62

The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and paper—clean but stale, like a place that had been waiting too long for something important to happen. I sat perched on the edge of the exam bed, hands folded tightly in my lap, watching the doctor work.

He had drawn my blood almost an hour ago, and now he stood hunched over a long steel counter, backlit by the glow of a diagnostic screen. His brow furrowed deeper every few seconds, lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line. He hadn’t spoken since telling me to sit still.

The steady tick of the wall clock was the only sound.

Elder Thora sat beside me in a stiff chair, her legs crossed, a stack of old files spread across her lap. The sharp scent of aged paper mixed with the faint lavender of her robes as she flipped page after page.

“What are you looking for?” I asked quietly, my voice sounding too small in the sterile room.

Thora didn’t look up. “Signatures,” she said, her tone clipped but not unkind. “I’m combing through your birthing documents. And Lyra’s. Whoever signed off on your arrival into this world should also have signed off on hers. But—” She paused, eyes narrowing. “There’s no signature on either of them. Not one.”

My stomach tightened. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Thora muttered, “that someone either forged the records or erased the proof. Either way, it shouldn’t be possible. Not for Council files.” She snapped the folder shut with a soft thud. “It makes no sense.”

Her frustration radiated off her in small waves, but there was nothing I could offer. I doubted there was anything I could do to help. So I stayed silent, fingers picking at the seam of the blanket, eyes fixed on the doctor as his shoulders hunched tighter and tighter.

Then Thora stiffened. Her eyes went distant, unfocused, the telltale sign of a mindlink call buzzing through her. Her knuckles whitened around the folder. Whatever she was hearing—it wasn’t good.

“You’re needed somewhere else,” I said gently. “Go. I’ll stay here and wait for the results.”

She blinked at me, torn, like she wasn’t sure if she should leave. But after a heartbeat, she rose, tucking the files under her arm. “Stay here. Do not leave the room,” she said firmly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Then she was gone, the door whispering shut behind her, leaving me alone with the doctor and the low hum of his equipment.

I tried to focus on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. My heart still raced anyway.

Then, like a soft knock at the back of my skull, Toren’s voice slipped into my mind. *Kira.*

Relief washed over me so fast my eyes stung. *I’m here,* I sent back. *I’m… nervous.*

*I know.* His voice was steady but low, a thread of warmth weaving through my panic. *It’s almost done. As soon as it is, I want to take you somewhere. Away from all this. A vacation.*

A weak laugh left me. *A vacation? Toren, this was my vacation. The Alpha Gathering was the farthest I’ve ever been from home.*

He chuckled softly through the link. *Then we’ll make it better. Warm sand, salt water… where do you want to go?*

I closed my eyes. *Somewhere with a beach. I want to stick my toes in the ocean and see the waves crash against my legs.*

Another voice brushed the edge of my mind then—Talon’s, deep and quiet. *Bring her to Jökulsárlón Beach in Iceland. Black, red, and golden sand. She’ll love it.*

Toren’s agreement followed immediately. *Perfect. Or Glass Beach in California first, to ease her in. Then Iceland.*

The warmth spread through me like a sunrise, spilling down my arms, filling my chest until my hands trembled. *I don’t care where,* I admitted softly. *As long as I’m with you.*

There was a long pause. Toren’s voice dropped low, like a vow. *Then you’ll be with us.*

I opened my mouth to say more—but the doctor moved.

He was suddenly in front of me, his eyes intense, a sheet of paper clutched in his hand. I cut the mindlink, heart thudding, and stared up at him.

“Give this to Elder Thora,” he said, holding out the paper.

My fingers closed around it automatically. “What are my results?”

He hesitated. Too long.

“Please,” I begged. “Tell me. I need to know what I’m walking into.”

His shoulders slumped. For the first time all morning, his expression cracked, revealing something like pity. He reached out and clasped my shoulder, firm but gentle.

“You have extremely rare blood,” he said slowly. “It’s Shadow blood… but it’s been mutated.”

My throat closed. “Mutated?”

He nodded. “Shadow blood usually has one section of its DNA awakened—one dominant trait. But your sample shows three distinct activations.”

I gripped the paper tighter, my pulse roaring in my ears. “Three?”

“Yes.” His eyes searched mine. “Two we’ve already seen. The healing ability. And the scream—the incapacitation defense. But…” He trailed off, glancing down at his notes, then back up. “There’s a third section. Active. But dormant.”

I blinked at him, confused. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s rare,” he admitted. “So rare it’s almost myth. But whatever this third ability is, it hasn’t shown itself yet. When it does…” He hesitated, then shook his head. “We’ll have to see.”

My hands trembled. The paper crinkled between my fingers. I stared at it like it might tell me something different, something normal, but all I saw was the blurred edge of the doctor’s notes.

I couldn’t seem to get air.

“How can this be?” I whispered.

The doctor’s eyes softened. “Sometimes,” he said, “the blood remembers things the world has forgotten.”

My heart pounded, my mind spinning with Toren’s warmth still echoing in my chest, Talon’s voice still brushing my thoughts, and now this—a third unknown ability waiting like a storm at the edge of the horizon.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out what it was.