CHAPTER 70: CHAPTER 70

Chapter 70

Astrid’s POV

My blood ran cold. The sudden silence was more terrifying than a scream. Every instinct I had, honed by years of living in a state of constant threat, told me that the children were in danger. They were not alone.

’Sheena,’ I projected to my wolf, my internal voice sharp with command, ’be ready.’

A low, rumbling growl was her only answer. She was already coiled and prepared, a predator sensing a threat to the pack’s young.

I took a slow, deliberate step forward, my feet making no sound on the soft earth. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the sudden, eerie quiet. I moved toward the large rhododendron bush, my eyes scanning the surrounding woods for any sign of movement. The scent of the children was strong here, but it was tangled with something else, something unfamiliar that I couldn’t quite place.

I reached the edge of the dense bush, its waxy leaves providing perfect cover. Holding my breath, I carefully parted two large leaves and peered through the gap.

My breath caught in my throat.

There was no monster. There was no kidnapper. There was no immediate threat.

There were three small children, crouched low to the ground, their eyes wide and sparkling mischief. The boy, who I assumed was Leo, had his hand clamped firmly over his sister Maya’s mouth, and she was doing the exact same thing to him. Their little bodies were shaking with the effort of suppressing their giggles. Christian was next to them with his hands over his mouth, shaking with laughter.

The wave of relief that washed over me was so powerful it almost buckled my knees. They weren’t hurt. They were just playing a trick on their nannies. For a second, I felt a surge of pure, unadulterated anger. They had scared everyone half to death.

But then, I saw the pure, unthinking joy in their eyes, and the anger softened into something else. Annoyance, yes, but also a flicker of understanding. This was the kind of trouble I would have gotten into at their age.

I pulled back from the leaves, took a deep breath, and stepped out from behind the bush, positioning myself right in front of them.

"That is enough," I said.

My voice was quiet, but it cut through the air with an authority that surprised even me. It was the voice of a Luna.

The children jumped as if they’d been zapped by lightning, their hands flying away from each other’s mouths. Their eyes, which had been dancing with mischief moments before, were now wide with shock and a healthy dose of fear. They looked like two little squirrels caught stealing from a bird feeder.

"Luna Astrid!" the little boy, Leo, squeaked.

"We were just playing," his sister, Maya, added quickly, her voice a tiny whisper.

Christian nodded. I smiled at him because it was obvious he was just going with the older ones. That in itself was cute. But I had to correct them.

"You were hiding," I corrected, keeping my voice firm but calm. "And you were making your nannies, the women who take care of you and love you, sick with worry. Do you think that’s a fun game?"

They twins looked down at their feet, shuffling nervously. Christian looked at them then at me before copying their actions. It was like he didn’t understand what was going on but he knew he needed to go with them.

"No, Luna," they mumbled in unison.

"Good," I said. "Now, what is so interesting back here that you felt the need to sneak away and scare everyone?"

Leo’s head popped up, his fear momentarily forgotten, replaced by excitement. "The fence is broken!" he announced proudly, as if he’d discovered a hidden treasure. He pointed a chubby finger toward the back of the thicket.

I followed his finger and saw it: a section of the wrought iron fence was bent, a gap just large enough for two very small children to squeeze through. And beyond the fence, something shimmered.

"There’s a secret lake," Maya whispered, her eyes shining. "With rainbow fish!"

My heart gave a painful thud. A secret. A broken fence. A body of water.

A memory, sharp and unwelcome, flooded my senses. And then I saw it. The water. It wasn’t a large lake, more like a wide, serene pond, fed by a natural spring. But it sparkled in the afternoon sun, a dazzling display of light dancing on the surface, making it look like it was covered in jewels.

For a split second, I wasn’t in the Emerald Glade pack anymore. I was seven years old again, standing on the bank of a forbidden river, my heart thumping with a mixture of terror and excitement. I could almost feel Clara’s small hand in mine, her voice a nervous whisper as I told her about the magic I was sure we would find.

"Lulu?"

Christian’s small voice pulled me back to the present. I blinked, shaking off the ghost of the past. I looked down at their two innocent, curious faces, and a cold dread washed over me. They saw adventure. I saw a headstone.

Just then, the frantic voices of the nannies reached us. "Leo! Maya! Christian!

"We’re over here!" I called out, my voice stronger than I felt.

A moment later, the three women burst through the bushes, their faces etched with panic. The second they saw the children, safe and sound, their panic melted into overwhelming relief, followed quickly by exasperation.

"Oh, you guys!" Maria, one of the nannies, cried, rushing forward and pulling them both into a fierce hug. "You had us so worried!"

"They’re fine," I said, my voice gentle but firm. "They were playing a game." I looked pointedly at the children, who were now trying to hide behind Maria’s legs. "A game that is now over."

I knelt down to their level, making sure I had their full attention. "Look at me," I said softly. They peeked out, their bottom lips trembling slightly. "Do you see Maria’s face? Do you see how scared she was? Her, and Sofia, and Elena? They love you, and they thought you were hurt or lost. What you did was not a funny trick. It was cruel. You will apologize to them right now. A real apology."

Leo and Maya shuffled forward, their heads bowed. "We’re sorry, Maria. We’re sorry, Sofia. We’re sorry, Elena," they mumbled. "We won’t do it again."

I turned to Christian who looked down with his fingers intertwined. "I’m sowie." He said quietly.

The nannies’ expressions softened immediately, and they knelt to hug the children again. While they were being fussed over, I pointed to the broken fence. "They found this. It leads to the pond."

The nannies gasped, their eyes widening in horror as they realized the potential danger.

"Don’t worry," I said quickly. "I’ll have it fixed immediately. But for now..." I looked back at the children, who were watching me with wide, uncertain eyes. I could see the longing in their gazes as they glanced toward the sparkling water. I knew that look. I had worn it myself.

An idea came to me, a way to turn this moment of fear into one of safety and joy. A way to fix more than just a broken fence.

"You wanted to see the rainbow fish, didn’t you?" I asked them gently.

They nodded enthusiastically, their earlier ploy forgotten.

"Alright," I said, making a decision. "Here is what we are going to do. Maria, Sofia, Elena, you will bring the children through the gap, and you will all sit on the bank of the pond. You will not let them go near the edge, but they can watch the fish. I will stay here and sketch." I looked at the children. "You can play, but only where your nannies can see you. You do not go near the water. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Luna!" they shouted in unison, their faces lighting up with pure delight.

I watched as the nannies carefully guided them through the fence. I sat back down on my bench, which had a clear view of the pond. I opened my sketchbook, my hands steady.

My pencil moved across the page, not capturing the willow tree I had intended to draw, but something far more precious. I sketched the curve of Maya’s back as she pointed at a flash of orange, the utter concentration on Leo’s face as he crouched at the water’s edge, Christian’s glee as Leo showed him the fish, the nanny’s hand resting securely on his shoulder. I drew the gentle ripples on the water, the way the sun made everything sparkle.

I wasn’t just drawing two children by a lake. I was healing a piece of my own seven-year-old heart. I was taking a memory that had haunted me for my entire life, a memory of forbidden water, a missing sister, and unbearable guilt and I was replacing it. I was replacing it with a scene of safety, of supervision, of innocent joy.

For the first time since the kiss, my mind was quiet. The shame and anxiety had disappeared, replaced by a sense of peace and purpose. This was what a Luna did. She didn’t just approve budgets and sign papers. She protected. She nurtured. She turned fear into safety.

And as I sketched, a small, genuine smile touched my lips. I was exactly where I was supposed to be.