The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 93

After Toren explained my leadership duties, the rest of them went quiet. For a while, the only sounds were the hum of tires against asphalt, the soft thrum of the engine, and the occasional shuffle of movement from the seat behind me where Tyson sat.

I watched the trees blur past outside the window, sunlight slipping between the branches in warm, fleeting flashes. The road stretched endlessly ahead — three days of travel, Toren had said — and already, I was running out of questions.

Or maybe I wasn’t.

“Is there anything else I should know?” I finally asked, glancing at the twins beside me. “Because I feel like there’s a lot you’re all just… leaving out.”

Shyanne looked at Marianne, then back at me with a grin that was a little too cautious. “Oh, there’s more. Lots more.”

Marianne nodded, her golden curls bouncing. “You’ve got the leadership part down, but that’s just one side of being Luna. There’s also…” She trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Healing,” Shyanne supplied, voice softer now. “And cultural stewardship.”

I blinked. “Healing and what?”

Marianne chuckled. “Basically, you’re also in charge of the pack’s heart — the emotional and spiritual side. The parts the Alphas don’t usually have time for.”

That earned a glare from Tyson in the back seat. “We care about the pack’s emotions,” he said dryly.

Shyanne raised a brow at him in the rearview mirror. “Sure you do, big guy. You just show it by growling until people leave you alone.”

Talon snorted. “She’s not wrong.”

Tyson muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like I liked you better when you were quiet, but the twins ignored him.

Marianne leaned closer to me, her tone shifting to something more serious. “Healing doesn’t just mean patching up wounds or tending to injuries. It’s deeper than that. You’re the one who feels what the pack feels — fear, grief, anger, confusion. You absorb it, balance it, and help them let go of it.”

“That sounds… exhausting,” I admitted.

Shyanne nodded. “It can be. But it’s also the most beautiful part of the bond. When the pack howls during a full moon, you’ll feel them through your link — hundreds of voices, all tied to yours. Their joy, their pain, their hope. You’ll be their grounding point.”

I hesitated, processing that. “So… when someone dies—”

“You’ll be the one to comfort the families,” Shyanne said softly. “You’ll lead the farewell rites. When pups are born, you’ll bless them. When warriors come home from battle, you’ll be the one to purify them before they return to their dens.”

“Purify them?” I asked, frowning slightly. “What does that mean?”

Toren spoke from the front, his voice calm and low. “After combat, a warrior’s energy becomes… tainted. Violent. Angry. It lingers, makes the pack uneasy. The Luna cleanses that — through ritual, moonlight water, or the bond. You restore their peace.”

“Basically,” Tyson added, “you tell the ghosts to piss off and let everyone sleep again.”

Marianne giggled. “Not wrong, actually.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Okay, so I’m supposed to heal their minds, their emotions, and their… ghosts. Got it.”

Shyanne grinned. “Pretty much. But it’s not just healing. You also take care of the cultural side of things — the traditions, the stories, the ceremonies. You’re the one who keeps the pack connected to its roots.”

I tilted my head. “You mean like… organizing parties?”

Talon chuckled. “In a way. Festivals, seasonal hunts, full moon gatherings — all of those fall under your care. You’ll lead them, bless them, and remind the pack why they matter.”

Toren nodded in agreement. “The Luna preserves our history. Songs, customs, rituals — everything that makes the pack more than just a group of wolves. Without those things, a pack loses its soul.”

The weight of those words settled heavy in my chest. “That’s… a lot of responsibility,” I murmured.

“It is,” Shyanne said, smiling gently. “But you’ll have help. We’ll make sure of it.”

I turned toward her, brow furrowed. “How do you two know all this?”

Marianne smirked. “We were raised in the council’s Luna quarters. My mother served the previous Luna before Toren’s mother died. We grew up watching her lead. She used to say the Luna wasn’t just the Alpha’s heart — she was the pack’s heartbeat.”

Tyson made a sound like a low hum, thoughtful. “She wasn’t wrong.”

I leaned back against the seat, staring out the window again. The trees were denser now, the sky darker — hints of the wild lands ahead. I could feel the hum of the pack bond faintly pulsing in the back of my mind, like a heartbeat waiting to sync.

“So,” I said slowly, turning the words over in my head, “I’m supposed to lead with you three, calm everyone down when they’re angry, heal their souls when they’re hurting, and throw moonlit parties to keep their spirits up.”

Shyanne burst out laughing. “When you say it like that, it sounds fun.”

Marianne elbowed her. “Until she realizes half the pack will come to her with every tiny problem. ‘Luna, my mate won’t stop snoring.’ ‘Luna, the omegas keep stealing my soap.’”

I groaned. “Oh gods, please tell me you’re joking.”

“They’re not,” Talon said, grinning. “You’re the one they’ll run to first, not us. They trust their Luna more than their Alphas.”

“Why?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Toren looked back at me through the mirror again. “Because power can frighten. But compassion? That inspires loyalty. And the Luna carries both.”

His words lingered in the air like smoke — soft, but heavy with truth.

I turned my gaze back to the window, watching the sky shift toward sunset. The world outside blurred into streaks of gold and shadow.

It still didn’t feel real — that I’d been chosen for this, that somehow I was supposed to be all these things: leader, healer, teacher, heart.

But somewhere deep inside, beneath the nerves and uncertainty, something stirred. Something strong.