Chapter 100

Ava

I lingered just outside in the hallway, peering through the cracked door into Chris’s study with a pained expression on my face. He was seated at his large oak desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pored over a stack of papers and photographs scattered in front of him.

The list.

I didn’t need to see the pages up close to know what he was working on—compiling detailed personal profiles on a selection of eligible bachelorettes from our neighboring packs, as per the Elders’ demand.

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I watched him sort through the papers. I knew in my heart that this was nothing more than an appeasement tactic for now, a way to satisfy the Elders until he found Olivia and the moonstone.

Still, seeing him like this made my heart twist in my chest. I couldn’t help but wonder… what if this went too far? What if the Elders eventually gave him no choice but to marry one of these women?

Or even worse, what if he fell in love with one of them after all?

“You shouldn’t linger in doorways, my dear. It’s unseemly for a woman of your stature.”

I jumped at the sound of a familiar voice, whipping around to see the gnarled Elder leaning on his cane behind me. Degas blinked at me from beneath his bushy eyebrows, a look of mild amusement tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Elder Degas! I... didn’t see you there.” I stepped back hastily from the door, suddenly acutely aware of how miserable I must have looked standing there.

The Elder offered a mild snort as he shifted his weight, leaning more heavily on his cane. At that moment, I was struck by just how frail he seemed lately—his once broad shoulders had grown even more hunched, his hair thinning out more and more by the day.

“I’m surprised you’re still getting the shakes around an old relic like me,” Degas quipped, a gravelly chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Walk with me in the gardens, will you? I’m afraid I can’t be wandering alone nowadays without risking a nasty spill.”

“Of course, Elder Degas. It would be my pleasure.”

Without a second thought, I stepped forward and looped my arm through his, leading him toward the gardens outside.

“You know,” Degas remarked after a silence, “I remember when this Packhouse was half the size it is now. Back when I was a child.”

I managed a soft smile at his words. “I’m sure the pack has grown since you were a child.”

“Oh, immensely,” he said as he hobbled alongside me. “When I was just a boy, it would take me less than ten minutes to run from one end of the territory to another. Although, I was quite fast back then.”

As we emerged out into the lush gardens, the scent of fragrant flowers on the warm breeze filled my senses, helping me to relax a bit. Degas seemed to be bolstered by it, too, because he stood up a little straighter as we began meandering through the pebbled pathways.

“And these gardens,” he said, “were nonexistent when I was a boy. They’re so lush now. A little slice of our paradise right here in our backyard.”

My free hand drifted unconsciously to the intricate pattern of my moonstone tattoo, tracing the raised patterns with my fingertips as I had so often before whenever I felt anxious. Yes, we did live in a paradise; but that paradise was at risk now. All thanks to the actions of one hateful woman.

“Degas…” I paused, swallowing hard. “Do you think, once we retrieve the moonstone, that the land will be safe again?”

Degas was silent for another long moment. I could feel the weight of his piercing stare boring into the side of my face.

“If only it were so simple.” He shook his head. “Even with the stone’s return, the damage Olivia has already wrought may run deeper than mere rot and decay of the land. She has broken the trust of the Moon Goddess.”

A tremor went through me as his words sank in. He was right, of course; the Moon Goddess’s love and trust was not easily won. Some said that she was fickle, but I knew that she had been hurt before, back before the days of the five packs. She was afraid. And we, as her children, were meant to protect her sanctuary.

“Which is why…” Degas stopped walking, turning to me then, “painful though it may be, we must take every measure to restore order and uphold our obligations to the old ways. No matter how... uncomfortable the personal costs.”

I stiffened at his words, a cold knot forming in the pit of my stomach as my heart plummeted. He knew. Of course he knew.

My throat worked hard to swallow the growing knot as I struggled to find my voice. “You... you’re referring to Chris taking a Luna from another pack?”

The corners of Degas’s eyes crinkled with something that almost looked like pity as he patted my hand. “I am. It must be done, Ava; no matter how much it may hurt in the present.”

My cheeks flushed hot beneath his gaze. I opened my mouth to offer some retort, some plea for understanding. But Degas merely smacked his lips and continued walking.

“I understand your pain, you know,” he said softly. “Why, when I was your age, I must have experienced heartbreak a hundred times over.”

I couldn’t help but laugh even though my eyes prickled with tears. “I’ve heard you were quite the looker back in the day,” I replied. “You still are, of course.”

Degas let out another rumbling laugh. “Oh, no need to flatter me, Ava,” he said, his eyes wandering down to his weathered hand as it gripped his cane. “The years haven’t been entirely kind to me in the looks department.”

There was another silence before he spoke again, his voice taking on a more somber tone this time. “When I lost my dear wife… at such a young age, too… Why, I thought that I would die of a broken heart. And frankly, I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t,” I murmured.

He sighed. “No. I didn’t. And neither will you.” He looked up at me with a stern gaze in his old eyes.

A profound ache seized my chest then. Maybe I hadn’t realized it before, but I loved Chris—loved him with every fiber of my being. And he loved me in return. He had loved me for years, or so he said.

But Degas was right. As deeply as I felt it in my bones, I knew that any attempt to openly pursue marriage to Chris could potentially spell the end for our pack.

I had had my chance with Ethan, and that was over. My days of being a Luna had come to an end.

And now, as the Acting Luna, my goals had to be in line with that of the pack; they needed to focus on the safety of our people. Even if that meant breaking my own heart in the process.

Degas’s eyes crinkled once more, almost as though reading my mind. “You know what needs to be done, don’t you, Ava?” he said softly.

I nodded stiffly despite myself.

Yes, as much as it hurt, I knew that someday, sooner than I would like, I would have to let go of this beautiful dream of a future with Chris. For the greater good of our pack and our people, I would have to say goodbye.

Swiping at the dampness clinging to my lashes, I forced a thin smile for Degas’s benefit. “I do, Degas. I will do what’s right. But… thank you for being understanding.”

His gaze softened almost imperceptibly. “And thank you for your selfless practicality on this matter. You are wise beyond your years, Ava. You made an excellent Acting Luna in the time that you had.”

My throat constricted too much to speak, so I merely offered another stiff nod in response, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

But just as I did, movement caught my eye—I looked up, and there he was. Chris, standing in the window of his study, beckoning to me with one finger.

Degas, noticing this, released his grip on my arm and hobbled over to a nearby bench.

“I think I’ll sit for a while,” he said, lowering himself onto the seat with some effort. “Thank you for walking with me. It’s truly such a lovely day out.”

I offered the Elder one last trembling smile before turning on my heel and making for the Packhouse. Only then did I feel a single tear trickle down my cheek.