Chapter 312: Echoes of Light

Vivian’s POV

There are definite perks to being a werewolf: super strength, heightened senses, faster physical healing. Then there are perks to being a pack Luna, like the natural authority and deep respect that automatically come with the title. But being the Luna? The Luna of all Lunas? That is a whole other level entirely. Still, my absolute favorite perk of all? The mental mind link. You have no idea how much money I have saved on monthly phone bills. It is basically a free, unlimited, global connection that is entirely hands-free, too. What is there not to love about that?

So imagine my sheer frustration when I spent six whole minutes trying to reach a certain witch through the link, only to finally realize she did not possess access to our mental network. She was technically in my pack now, sure, but she lacked that specific werewolf bond. Hence, my current physical position: standing right outside her cabin, knocking at her heavy front door and desperately hoping I would not get hexed for showing up uninvited.

I really hoped that delivering a personal dinner invitation in person did not accidentally get me turned into a toad. Or thrown straight through a solid wall. My hair looked way too good today to be ruined by magical chaos.

I heard soft, quiet, barefoot footsteps approaching the entryway from inside, and then the heavy door swung open to reveal Aurora standing on the threshold. She looked completely ethereal, as usual. Her dark eyes, deep and endless as a moonless night, seemed to stare right through my body. Her head tilted slightly to the side, causing her long, ink-black hair to cascade smoothly down over one shoulder. The long dress she wore today was very similar in style to the one from yesterday, only now in a gorgeous gradient of soft lavender and deep violet. She exuded total calm a still, unwavering kind of calm.

"Hello, Vivian," she said smoothly, a low, purring lilt in her quiet voice as if greeting me confirmed something very important for her.

There was always something subtle about her presence that made me feel... completely bare. Not in a bad or uncomfortable way, just entirely raw and exposed. Like standing alone in a sunny glade in my full wolf form, sun-warmed and quiet. She stirred a strange mix of things inside my chest confusion, peace, and intense curiosity, all tangled up tightly together. Still, I offered her a warm smile.

"Hey, Aurora. Mind if I step inside for a minute?"

Before the polite question even finished leaving my mouth, she was already turning around and walking deeper into her cozy home. Not a single word spoken, just graceful silence. She bypassed the living room couch entirely and, instead, sat right down on the hardwood floor, her long legs folded elegantly beneath her dress.

"Okay then..." I muttered to myself, stepping inside the entryway and closing the front door firmly behind me.

She could sit on the bare floor all she wanted, but I was certainly not about to follow suit. If I got down on the floor right now, I was not entirely sure I would have the physical energy to get back up again. I plopped right onto the closest couch cushion and leaned back against the armrest, quietly watching her.

"So, how are you feeling today?" I asked, trying my best to sound casual. "Still being held prisoner by Algebra?"

She let out a soft, slow exhale, her dark gaze drifting slightly to the side. "I am... adjusting to being in better control of myself again. And no, I would not say I am a captive here. Just... closely watched over. Which I now fully understand is completely necessary for everyone."

Her voice sounded low and thoughtful. I genuinely wanted to ask her more details, but I knew better than to push. I always hated when random people pried at my own deep wounds, and I certainly would not do the exact same thing to her.

"People really should give you far more credit than they do, young Luna," she said suddenly, her voice dropping into a gentle tone. Her eyes fluttered softly closed, her head tilting slightly back as if she were simply basking in quiet serenity.

I blinked in surprise. "Why is that?"

"Because a good Luna asks endless questions, but a truly wise Luna knows when to sit and wait. You desperately want real answers, but you are remarkably patient. Even the oldest Lunas in our history often forget that a full meal is worth far more than rushed scraps."

I huffed out a little, amused laugh. "Thanks. I think?"

She opened one dark eye and gave me a silent look that said she knew I was entirely unsure of her full meaning, but appreciated the gesture all the same.

"So what time is dinner tonight?" she asked completely out of the blue.

"Eight-thirty sharp wait." I squinted my eyes at her. "I didn’t say a single thing about dinner yet. Seriously, is that a witch thing? Reading people’s minds? Or are you just freakishly good at guessing things?"

"The world may never know," she replied cryptically, a faint smirk touching her lips.

"Right. Of course not."

I cleared my throat and shifted on the cushion. "So... are you actually coming?"

The corner of her dark lips quirked subtly upward. "Do I really have a choice in the matter?"

Smart witch. "Not really," I said, matching her small smirk with one of my own. "I am certainly not about to let you be left out in the cold when everyone else is sitting together at the table."

She turned slightly on the floor to face me more fully, a single dark brow raised. "Is that truly all?"

"Well..." I shrugged my shoulders, grinning broadly. "It also really helps having someone on our side who can physically yeet people straight across the room with a mere flick of her fingers."

Aurora let out a genuine chuckle. "I have known you for less than a full day, and I can already see the strong mark Zahliver has left on you. You will become the exact Luna these wolves need, Vivian. I would be honored to help you tonight. It has been a long time since I played... by my own rules."

Her soft voice drifted off near the end of her sentence, a heavy sadness settling quickly into the quiet air around her. I did not move from the couch, nor did I dare interrupt her thoughts. I could feel the deep grief resting inside her not wild or untamed like before, but softened with time. Controlled. Something she had made a quiet peace with, maybe. Or was still actively trying to survive.

We sat in complete silence for a while, the kind of quiet that felt deeply sacred rather than awkward. I gave her all the mental space she needed to gather herself back together. Then, very softly, she spoke into the shadows of the room.

"Andrew was only six years old when he... died."

Her quiet words hit my chest like a silent explosion. My breath caught sharply in my throat, my chest tightening up instantly. Unbidden tears stung the corners of my eyes without warning. Outside the cabin windows, as if directly responding to the sudden shift in emotional weight, heavy dark clouds rolled quickly over the sky, casting the entire living room in cool shadow.

Aurora stared out the window pane, her delicate facial expression completely unreadable. "He was always so energetic, so remarkably happy. Every single morning, he would bounce right out of bed, full of endless questions and pure light. I think he got that bright energy from Berry. His thick hair, too. But his eyes... those eyes were entirely mine. Though sometimes, when he was excited, they would turn bright green."

A tender, quiet smile tugged at her lips small, but deeply real.

"He was always right at my side. Everywhere I went in the village, he followed close behind always wanting to help, always eager to learn. I think... I really think he would have grown into a great healer."

Her voice trembled ever so slightly as she drew in a long, shaky breath of air.

And I just sat there on the soft couch cushion, my heart aching deeply for a little boy I never had the chance to know, and for a grieving woman who still carried the vivid echo of his sweet laughter in her very bones.