Chapter 4

Three days have passed since that afternoon when Asher and I embraced, and my heart feels lighter than ever before.

Although my son now approaches me willingly and lets me hold him, I know the real healing has only just begun. Eight years of trauma can't be completely healed with a single hug.

At 2:30 PM, I sit in my car waiting for Asher to get out of school. This is the first time I've actively come to pick him up.

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my palms sweaty. Outside Pine Valley Kindergarten, other parents have already gathered to wait.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the car door.

Instantly, whispers surge toward me like a tide.

"Oh my God, is that Luna Monica?" A blonde woman stares wide-eyed. "She actually came to pick up her child?"

"This is the first time I've seen her show up at school..." Another parent shakes her head in shock. "I thought that little wolf pup was an orphan."

My cheeks burn, but I force myself to stay calm, searching the crowd for that familiar small figure.

The dismissal bell rings.

Pups pour out of the school gate like little birds, with Asher walking last, head down, all alone. When he sees me, his whole body freezes.

"Mama...?" His voice carries surprise, his lake-blue eyes sparkling. "Did you really come to pick up Asher?"

I crouch down, struggling to control my trembling voice: "Yes, baby. Mama came to take you home."

"Will Mama really come pick up Asher every day?" Asher runs toward me, his face bright with expectation. "All the other kids say their mamas come every day..."

He's no longer afraid of me, but still needs confirmation...

My heart warms as I extend my hand: "When Mama makes a promise, she keeps it. I'll come pick you up every day from now on."

Asher grasps my hand without hesitation, and this trust nearly brings me to tears.

On the way home, I choose the forest trail that Orlando usually takes. Autumn sunlight filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows, and Asher sits obediently in the passenger seat, stealing glances at me.

Suddenly, I hit the brakes.

Ahead by the roadside, a thin figure huddles under a tree. It's a child about seven or eight years old, in tattered clothes, with obvious scratches and bruises.

"Please... please give me some food..." the child begs in a weak voice. "I'm so hungry... it hurts so much..."

The moment I see that thin figure, my heart pounds violently. Not from fear, but from an indescribable pain and anger.

How could anyone hurt a child?

My breathing becomes rapid, blood surging through my veins as if something ancient is awakening within me. This feeling... it's like when I held Asher that day, but much stronger.

I get out of the car without thinking, each step feeling like the earth beneath my feet is responding to my anger.

As I approach the child, my senses suddenly become extraordinarily sharp. I can hear his weak heartbeat, smell the blood on him, feel his fear and despair... and that familiar scent.

Werewolf. It's a werewolf child.

My eyes begin to burn, warmth flowing from my heart to my head. The world becomes clearer in my vision, every leaf, every wound, as distinct as if under a magnifying glass.

"Who hurt you?" I hear my own voice, carrying a dignity and power I've never had before. "Come, come home with me."

The child looks up, and when he sees my eyes, his pupils dilate suddenly: "Luna... You're a real Luna..."

I can feel the light dancing in my eyes, like moonlight's silver glow, warm and powerful.

"Mama's eyes are glowing!" Asher excitedly pokes his head out of the car. "Just like Daddy said a real Luna would!"

I'm stunned. This protective impulse, this anger, this instinct to guard the weak... is this Luna's power?

I gently lift the injured child, feeling an ancient and sacred power flowing through my veins.

Back home, I contact Mia to treat the little stray werewolf. Watching Mia gently tend to the child's wounds, my maternal protective instincts grow even stronger. This feeling is so foreign, yet so natural.

At ten PM, I finally tuck Asher into bed. The little stray werewolf has been taken to the medical room by Mia for treatment, but the Luna fire still burns within my heart.

"Mama, will you tell Asher a story?" Asher shyly burrows under the covers. "A story about the moon?"

I sit beside the bed, gently stroking his golden-brown curls: "Of course, baby. Once upon a time there was a..."

My words cut off abruptly.

Asher's small hand emerges from under the blanket, his wrist and the back of his hand covered in small but deep scratches. Some have healed, some are still fresh.

"Baby, what happened to your hand?" I grab his hand, my heart racing. "These scars..."

Asher immediately tries to pull his hand back, lowering his head: "When Asher shifts, he can't control it well... and hurts himself."

"What?" I nearly lose my voice. "Why would you hurt yourself?"

Tears begin rolling down Asher's cheeks: "Because... because Mama used to always ignore Asher, so Asher thought he must be bad somewhere... Daddy said Mama was sick, but Asher thought if he was better, Mama's sickness would get better..."

He's been blaming himself all along... it's all my fault.

My chest feels like it's been struck by lightning: "No, baby, absolutely not!"

I hold Asher tightly, tears falling like broken pearls: "You are Mama's most precious gift. Mama was sick before and said many hurtful things. Now Mama is better, Mama will protect you, forever and always."

Asher trembles in my arms: "Really, Mama? Is Asher really not a bad child?"

"You are the best child." I kiss his forehead. "Mama swears."

I hum a lullaby until Asher sleeps peacefully. When I notice my hands are radiating a warm golden glow, I'm deeply shaken. Those scratches are slowly healing.

I really am a Luna...

Just then, a shadow flashes past the window.

My Luna instincts immediately alert, I can feel someone watching us. The malice is unmistakable.

I'm about to get up to investigate when urgent knocking comes from downstairs.

"Luna Monica!" Beta Sarah's voice carries from outside the door, with obvious anxiety. "Emergency! Alpha Orlando wants to come back early, he wants to see you immediately after he returns!"

My heart nearly stops beating.

Orlando... is coming back.

Since crossing into this world, I haven't truly faced him yet. That boy who silently protected me since childhood, that man who endured eight years of coldness to save me, that... my husband in name.

How should I face him? What should I say?

I look at Asher sleeping peacefully in my arms, his innocent little face particularly fragile in the moonlight.

No matter what, I have to face reality now.

No matter how Orlando will view me now, no matter what dangers lie ahead, I won't run away anymore.

I will protect this family, this pack.