CHAPTER 115: MOON FESTIVAL

Eira’s POV

(Flashback – six years ago)

I stood by the window of my room, gazing at the night sky. The stars shimmered like scattered diamonds across the dark canvas, and the full moon hung there, serene and radiant, like a silent guardian.

Since I could remember, I had always loved staring at the moon and stars. Even as a child who struggled to speak, I would lose myself in the night sky, my thoughts empty but my heart full. That sky felt like home. Those stars were my family. And that moon... it was like a mother watching over me. I never had one, so the moon’s soft glow was my comfort, a warmth I could always count on.

I was certain that even when I grew old, my eyes wrinkled and weary, I would still look up at the stars this way. And when I died, I wished for this view to be the last thing I saw—my soul merging with the stars, closest to the moon.

"Eira," my grandmother’s voice called from downstairs.

"Yes, Grandma?" I answered.

"Your grandpa and I are going to celebrate the Moon Festival with friends. Are you sure you don’t want to come?"

"No, Grandma. I don’t want to," I said softly. "Please, you and Grandpa enjoy yourselves."

"Alright," she replied, probably hurried. "Keep the door locked, and do not open it for anyone unless it’s us."

"Yes, Grandma. Don’t worry," I said.

"We’re leaving," she called again, followed by the sound of the main door closing.

The door could only be opened from inside unless someone had the keys, so I didn’t need to worry about locking it.

Tonight was the Moon Festival, and the world outside celebrated in joy and light—everyone except me. The one I had been longing to celebrate with wasn’t here. It had been almost two weeks since he left for the Alpha training camp. He promised he’d return for the festival, but it seemed he couldn’t make it.

I couldn’t be upset with him. His duty as one of the pack’s Alphas called him elsewhere. He was strong, smart, and capable, and I took pride in that. I had to support him in every way, practice being a responsible mate, and trust in his choices.

On this day, most singles found their mates, while those already bonded celebrated together. New couples waited for the Moon Festival for their first mating, believing it to be the most auspicious day, blessed by the moon goddess herself, promising eternal love.

I was still a minor. I couldn’t mate with him yet, but I longed to be near him. I longed to call him mine, to one day have children and a family with him. Perhaps next year’s Moon Festival would bring our first mating, like other couples. But could we really wait that long?

While the world outside celebrated, I felt empty. I had started missing him two weeks ago, ever since our first kiss. The way he had held me close, possessively, as if his gaze could tear through the protective walls around my soul. The warmth of his body seeping into mine, a sensation I had never felt before. The taste of him, the way he guided me through that kiss with an intensity that left me both trembling and craving more.

Even now, I could feel him—his touch, his taste—and my body responded with goosebumps I couldn’t hide. I wasn’t sure if it was simply the stirrings of a lustful teen, or if it was natural, a signal from the wolf inside me awakening as the days of me being adult and meeting my wolf were getting closer.

I couldn’t speak to anyone about it; the thought was too embarrassing. And what if I accidentally revealed my relationship with him? I had to wait. Perhaps the answers would come in time, or maybe I could ask him myself. I only hoped he wouldn’t misunderstand.

My eyes fell on the small box I had kept on the windowsill. A gift for him, patiently waiting. I picked it up and opened it. Inside lay a delicate bracelet, earthly beads woven into thick black cord, knots tied with care, tiny wooden charms dangling like whispers of thought and intention.

"I hope he likes it," I whispered, my thumb brushing over the beads as if I could feel him through them, as if his presence lingered nearby.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the window, rustling the curtains and startling me.

I went to the window to check if a storm was coming, but outside, everything seemed calm, just as usual.

Seems like just a momentary gust of wind, I thought.

Then, without warning, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me. A tall, solid body pressed against my back, enveloping me completely.

I startled, but in the next heartbeat, I knew it was him. Am I dreaming, or is it really him?

His next words answered my question.

"Missed me?" His warm breath brushed my nape as he whispered against my ear. My heart almost stopped beating.

I drew in a deep, shaky breath, letting the reality of his presence settle in. He was finally here. He had kept his promise. I could finally celebrate the Moon Festival with him—our first festival together as a couple.

I gave a small nod, my heart racing.

"I missed you too," he murmured, his hands gripping me firmly, his voice low and hoarse, a hint of something more in it. "...especially at night."

I swallowed hard, unable to voice that I had missed him every night, that my body ached for him in ways I didn’t dare admit.

He gently turned me to face him. My curious gaze finally met his, grounding me in his presence.

There he was, right in front of me, as handsome as ever. A perfectly fitted dark shirt and trousers clung to his frame, his hair neatly styled like a true gentleman. A subtle scent of cologne mingled with his natural presence, warm and intoxicating. He looked like he had prepared for this moment, just like a man ready for a date, every detail in place. So striking, so undeniably him, that I couldn’t tear my eyes away.