Chapter 1I canceled my Luna Ceremony.
The Pack's ritual keeper stared at me.
"Nessa, you sure? The preparations are nearly complete. Shouldn't you wait until Alpha Cyrus returns?"
For six years straight, Cyrus Hale disappeared every summer solstice. Always said it was Alpha business.
But his feed told a different story.
Over three hundred photos. Same beach. Same woman. Always right before dawn.
In one, she stood barefoot in the surf. White dress clinging to her legs. Smiling at the camera like she owned him.
I glanced at the white stone altar in the corner. Our names intertwined with wolf motifs and crescent moons.
Seven designs. I'd stayed up reworking them until my eyes burned.
He never looked at one.
I pushed the ceremonial scroll back across the stone table.
"No. Cancel it all."
I was done waiting for tides that would never come for me.
---
"Nessa. Tell me you didn't."
Juniper's voice crackled through the phone as I walked out of the hall.
The banner still hung over the entrance.
Honoring the Bond of Nessa Marlowe & Cyrus Hale.
I didn't even look at it.
"I did."
"You spent months on this. You can't just—"
"I can. And I did."
"Does Cyrus even know?"
"He's out of territory."
Silence.
Then: "Liora again?"
"Who else?"
Juniper sighed. "Nessa. Come on. They grew up together. That's just how it is with childhood friends."
My hand tightened around the keys.
"Juni. Childhood friends don't take three hundred photos of each other at the same beach over six summers."
She didn't answer.
I hung up and opened Cyrus's feed.
Three minutes ago, he'd posted another shot. Ocean at night. Blue glow tracing the edges of the waves.
Caption: The bioluminescent tides are even brighter this year.
I stared at it until the screen blurred.
Last year, he'd posted something almost identical. I'd gotten so excited, I'd asked if we could go together someday.
He'd shrugged. "It's crawling with humans this time of year. Not worth it."
But the photos on his hard drive told a different story.
No crowds. Just Liora Blackthorn in a white dress, bending down to scoop glowing water into her hands.
There was even a note saved with one of them.
[Liora said it looked like stars fell into the ocean.]
Six years. That's how long Cyrus and I had been together.
The most romantic thing he ever said to me was the day we bonded.
"It'll be nice. Having someone to split the work with."
I sat in my car outside our den and scrolled through my camera roll.
Twenty-six photos of us. Fifteen from the first year we started seeing each other. Eleven from the four years after that.
Three were group shots from Pack gatherings. Cyrus stood next to me looking like someone had shoved him into frame at the last second.
Liora?
Three hundred-plus.
Her on the rocks. Her in the passenger seat holding driftwood. Her with her eyes closed, listening to the wind.
He'd saved every summer she'd ever had.
I'd spent every summer waiting for him to come back.
My phone buzzed. Video call.
Cyrus.
I answered.
He looked relaxed. Too relaxed. Hair messy from the wind, loose shirt half-unbuttoned. Behind him, I could see the boardwalk. Food stands. People laughing.
"Hey. You eat yet?"
"Yeah."
"I'll be back in two days. Just keep an eye on things until then, okay?"
"Sure."
He glanced off-screen and smiled. I almost never saw him smile like that.
"Cyrus, the fish is ready!" A woman's voice. Soft. Familiar.
He turned toward her. "Coming."
When he looked back at me, his tone was so casual it hurt.
"Liora's calling me. Gotta go."
"What's she even doing there?"
"She's been struggling lately. I'm just helping her clear her head."
"Does she need you to help her clear her head every single summer?"
His jaw tightened.
"Nessa. Don't start. Her father died in a raid when she was a kid. Summers are hard for her."
I didn't say anything.
My father died in a raid too. In the summer.
Cyrus knew that.
Three years ago, on the anniversary of my father's death, I begged him to come with me to the memorial grounds. The moonlight vigil.
He said he couldn't. Alpha duties.
A week later, I saw Liora's post. Cyrus standing next to her under a shared cloak at the coast.
Caption: Grateful to have someone who understands.
Cyrus kept talking. "Oh. I picked something up for you, by the way. A driftwood chime. Liora said it'd look good on our balcony."
I stared at the screen.
Even the smallest detail of my ceremony had to go through her first.
"Don't overthink it," he said before hanging up. "We'll talk when I'm back."
I looked at the blank screen for a long time.
Then I typed one word.
[Okay.]
I went upstairs.
And I started packing.
Chapter 2
Cyrus came back a day early.
I heard him before I saw him. The front door slammed. Boots hit the floor.
"I'm wiped. Caught the earliest run back."
I stayed on the couch. Didn't move.
He dropped a crumpled paper bag on the table in front of me.
"Got you something. Driftwood chime."
Then he reached into his pack. Pulled out a long wooden box. Tied with some kind of fancy ribbon.
He set it down carefully. Like it might break.
"Don't touch that one. It's for Liora."
I glanced at it.
"What is it?"
"Moonstone hair comb. Handcrafted. She needs it for some gathering next week."
He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I opened the paper bag.
Inside was a chime barely bigger than my hand. Still had the price scribbled on the tag in faded ink. One of the pieces was cracked down the middle.
I held it up.
"This is what you got me?"
Cyrus frowned.
"You like that kind of stuff, don't you?"
Since when?
Last year, I'd found a pair of carved bone earrings at a traveling market. They cost next to nothing.
Cyrus had shaken his head. "We've got the ceremony coming up. Don't waste coin on things you don't need."
So I left them.
Liora's comb, though?
I'd seen those before. Crafted by a wolf artisan two territories over. They didn't come cheap.
"Did she ask you to get it?"
"No. I just saw it and thought it'd suit her."
I nodded slowly.
"How convenient."
He shrugged out of his jacket. Completely missed the edge in my voice.
That evening, my phone rang.
Thalia.
I answered.
"Nessa. Have you finalized the seating arrangements for the ceremony?"
"Not yet."
"Why are you dragging your feet on this? Liora stopped by last week to help me review the menu. She said a traditional roast would be too predictable. Suggested we do something more casual instead."
My hand tightened around the mug I was holding.
"Liora wants to change the menu?"
"She understands these things. You've been so busy with your duties, I didn't want to add to your plate."
"Thalia. This is Cyrus's and my ceremony."
Silence.
When she spoke again, her tone had gone cold.
"I'm aware. Liora was only trying to help. You don't need to be so defensive."
Cyrus came out of the washroom, rubbing his hair dry with a cloth.
"Who's that?"
"Your mother."
I put her on speaker.
Thalia kept going. "There's one more thing. Liora mentioned the inscriptions you chose for the bonding altar sounded awkward. She rewrote them. I'm sending the new version now."
My phone buzzed.
I opened the image.
My original words had been simple:
We found each other in the quiet moments between hunts.
Liora's version read:
Through every tide and moon, I'm grateful to walk beside you.
Cyrus glanced at the screen.
"Hers sounds better. More poetic."
I looked at him.
"Did you ever actually read mine?"
"Of course I did."
"And?"
He thought about it for a second.
"It was fine."
Fine.
I'd spent two nights reworking those words until they felt right.
And all he could say was fine.
Liora changed one line, and suddenly it had feeling.
Thalia wasn't done. "Nessa, I'm only saying this for your good. A future Luna should know how to handle these details with grace. You can be so rigid sometimes. You could learn a thing or two from Liora."
I ended the call.
Cyrus's expression darkened.
"Why'd you hang up on her?"
"I didn't want to hear her tell me to be more like Liora."
"She's blunt, but she means well."
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Cyrus. Why is Liora involved in every part of our ceremony?"
He dragged a hand through his hair.
"She's helping. You're running yourself ragged with Pack duties. What's wrong with my mother asking for her input?"
"Did you ever ask if I wanted her input?"
"Do I need to check with you on every little thing?"
Little things.
That's all they were to him.
The menu. The inscriptions. The altar carvings.
Everything that was supposed to be mine was apparently up for grabs. As long as it made things easier for him.
He walked over to the table and picked up the driftwood chime.
"Let's hang this on the balcony. Liora said it'd sound nice when the wind catches it."
I stared at the cracked piece dangling from the string.
"We're inland. There's no ocean breeze here."
He stopped mid-step.
I took the chime from his hand and dropped it back in the bag.
"So there's no point."
My wolf stirred under my skin. Restless. Angry.
Leave, she whispered. He doesn't see us. He never has.
For the first time in six years, I didn't push her down.
I let her be right.
Chapter 3
On the night of the full moon, Bodhi Cross organized a Pack gathering at the northern hunting grounds.
I didn't want to go, but Cyrus stood by the door waiting.
"Everyone's going to be there. Don't make this weird."
I changed and went with him.
Liora was already there when we arrived. She wore a pale blue dress, hair swept up with the moonstone comb catching the firelight.
The moment she saw Cyrus, she smiled and waved.
"Cyrus, over here."
He went straight to her. Sat down like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I stood there for a second. Then took the seat on his other side.
Bodhi raised his drink and grinned. "Look who finally showed. The future Luna. Ceremony's coming up soon, right?"
Cyrus nodded.
"Yeah. Soon."
Liora rested her chin on her hand and smiled.
"Ceremonies get canceled all the time. Nothing's set until the bond is sealed."
The entire group went quiet.
Bodhi laughed it off. "Liora. Come on. You know she doesn't mean anything by it."
I didn't care if she meant it or not.
I just stared at the comb in her hair. Moonstone gleaming in the light.
One of the women leaned closer to her.
"That comb is stunning. Where'd you get it?"
Liora glanced at Cyrus.
"A close friend gave it to me."
Cyrus didn't even hesitate.
"I got it for her. Thought it'd suit her."
The woman looked at me instinctively.
"Then Cyrus must've gotten Nessa something too, right?"
He waved a hand.
"She's not into that stuff."
I smiled.
"Since when?"
Cyrus stared at me. Caught off guard.
Liora immediately looped her arm through mine.
"Nessa, don't take it the wrong way. Cyrus just doesn't think about these things. I'm sure he got you something practical."
"Like what?"
She hesitated.
I answered for her.
"Like a cracked driftwood chime he picked up for pocket change."
No one said a word.
Cyrus's jaw tightened.
"Did you really need to say that in front of everyone?"
"Weren't you the one who just told everyone I don't like nice things?"
Liora sighed softly.
"Nessa. When you act like this, you just make things harder for him."
She said it quietly, but it hit like a punch.
Apparently, he was the one struggling.
That meant I wasn't allowed to ask questions. Get upset. Or even admit I was hurt.
I got up to wash my hands. Liora followed me into the washroom.
She stood at the basin, reapplying something to her lips.
"Nessa. You really don't have to see me as a threat."
I turned off the water.
"I don't have the energy to see you as anything."
She smiled.
"Good. Cyrus and I have known each other for twenty years. I understand him better than anyone. He doesn't say much, but underneath it all, he's softer than he lets on."
"Your point?"
"My point is, stop pressuring him with all this ceremony nonsense. He told me you've been making everything so complicated he can barely breathe."
My stomach dropped.
"He said that to you?"
"We tell each other everything."
She capped whatever she was holding and turned toward me.
"I'll be honest with you. He chose you because you're dependable. You don't ask for much. You handle things on your own."
She paused. Smiled.
"But when he's with me, he gets to be himself."
I stared at her. Then I laughed.
"Liora. Do you hear how pathetic you sound?"
Her smile faded.
"I'm just warning you. The tighter you hold on, the more he'll pull away."
"Do I look like I'm holding on?"
"No," she said.
She touched the comb in her hair.
"You don't have to. He comes to me on his own."
When I left the washroom, Cyrus was waiting outside.
"What took you so long?"
"I was talking to Liora."
His eyes flicked toward the door.
"She didn't say anything out of line, did she?"
"What are you worried she might've said?"
He frowned.
"You've been picking fights all night."
When it was time to leave, Liora said she'd had too much to drink.
Cyrus reached for his keys without thinking.
"I'll take you back."
I stopped him.
"She's on the other side of the territory. We're nowhere near there."
"It's late. She shouldn't go alone."
"What about me?"
"You're coming with us."
Liora took the front. I got in the back.
She connected her phone to the sound system and played some soft melody about the ocean.
"Cyrus, remember this song? We heard it at that inn last year."
Cyrus smiled.
"You tried to hum along and couldn't hit a single note."
They spent the whole ride talking about the coast. The inn. The food stand they'd stopped at.
I sat in the back and felt like I was catching a ride with strangers.
When we pulled up outside her place, she leaned down before closing the door. Looked back at me.
"See you at the ceremony, Nessa."
Then she turned to Cyrus.
"Don't forget. Next Saturday. I need you for the shoot at the coast."
"I remember," Cyrus said.
The door shut.
I looked at him.
"Do you remember what next Saturday is?"
He thought for a second.
"It's Saturday."
"It's the anniversary of my father's death."
The silence in that car was deafening.
Three years ago, Cyrus hadn't come with me.
This year, he'd forgotten entirely.
He kept his hands on the wheel. His voice dropped.
"I can go with you in the afternoon."
"What about the morning?"
"Liora already arranged everything. Rescheduling would mess it all up."
I looked out the window.
"Cyrus. Do you know what my father said to me before he died?"
He didn't answer.
"He asked when you were coming to see him. When you'd sit with him for a meal."
Still nothing.
"You never came. Not once."
After a long pause, he said, "There'll be another time."
I laughed.
My father was gone.
There was no other time.
