RISE OF FORSAKEN LUNA

Chapter 8: Resolution of a mother



 

"How do you expect that child to be protected if you cannot protect yourself?"

 

Dax's piercing and relentless tone breaks through the quiet like a knife. Standing a few steps away, arms crossed, his golden eyes fixed on me with a combination of irritation and challenge.

 

I froze, my fingers groped over my stomach automatically. "Don't talk about my child like that."

 

He moved closer, his height commanding but not menacing. "I am not the enemy Zaia here.

 

 If you are carrying the next successor to the Crescent Moon Pack, however, the rogues chasing us will not matter. That, if anything, increases your desired value.

 

Though I refrained from letting it show, his comments really touched something. "Dax, I didn't ask for your help."

 

And yet you're alive because of it, he said sharply. "You have to start seeing yourself as a survivor rather than someone ready for rescue."

 

His comments stayed buried in the corners of my mind long after they were said. He was correct, of course. Not one mother who froze in terror every time the world became darker; my kid deserved a mother who could defend her.

 

The quiet between us spread as we travelled over the woodland. The Crescent Moon scout trailed after, his demeanor sour as my constant rejection to go back to the pack caused him to change.

Why don't you simply tell him? Dax inquired unexpectedly, his voice low.

 

Not sure, I looked at him. Tell someone what you mean.

 

"Sebastian," he said with an unclear tone. " ABOUT THE BREAST ABOUT THE BREAST

 

My head trembled and my breath seized. No. When he turned me aside, he gave up his right to know.

 

Dax wrinkled but did not object. Rather, he waved to a clearing ahead. We will halt here. You need rest.

 

Soft moonlight filled the area, and the air felt colder here as if the trees themselves were protecting it.

 

I dropped to the ground, tiredness dragging me down. Dax circled the outside, looking for any indication of threat.

 

" Why do you care so much?" Suddenly breaking the silence, I asked.

 

He stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. " ABOUT what?"

 

" About whether I survive," I added, speaking softly.

 

He didn't reply for a time. Then he sat across from me slowly, his face incomprehensible. "Because I have seen the results of individuals giving up. And I have no intention of seeing it repeated.

 

Though his comments were evasive, they carried a weight of something unspoken.

 

"Again?" Pressing because I sensed more to his narrative.

 

He groaned and ran a hand over his hair. "I only once carried a pack." a companion. We were meant to lead alongside each other.

His voice carried a clear hurt, and I felt guilty for pressing. Still, he went, his gaze far off.

 

"She met everything I could have possibly needed. strong, bold, unassuming.

 

She chose herself above everyone else, however, when things were difficult—that is, when the pack was assaulted. I lost everything when she departed.

 

Not sure what to reply; his confession weighed between us. Finally, the words seemed insufficient as I apologized.

 

Dax shrugged, however the suffering in his eyes persisted. "You choose survival skills. You may not as well.

 

The rustling of leaves close broke our tranquil moment.

 

Dax was on his feet right away, his dagger pulled. My wolf bristling under my skin, I matched him.

 

The scout advanced, his blade shining in the moonlight. "Just the wind," he said.

 

Dax shook his head, however, staring towards the blackness beyond the trees. Not. Another is something other.

 

Before he could speak more, a renegade wolf with crazy eyes and snapping teeth tore across the clearing. Dax sprang, squarely meeting it, and I moved, my wolf snarling as I circled to stop its escape.

 

The struggle was brief and savage. Sharp and exact, Dax's motions raked his claws against the side of the renegade. Attacking from behind,

 

I bit its rear leg.

 

The renegade dropped with a last growl, its body still.

I turned back and grabbed my side while breathing in jagged breaths.

 

Dax turned to me, his countenance a mixture of relief and irritation.

 

"You're getting better," he replied reluctantly.

 

"Better isn't good enough," I said, my voice strong. Not with regard to safeguarding my kid.

 

His countenance softened somewhat, and he nodded. "then we go on. You will arrive.

 

I felt something change within me while we cared for our injuries. The terror that had kept me back started to fade, then a strong will took front stage.

 

Quietly, more to myself than everyone else, I murmured, "I'll do whatever it takes." "I'll shield my kid." Nobody will be able to take them from me.

 

Dax fixed me, something unsaid hovering between us. "then you'd better start listening to me," he said, his voice lighter but yet firm.

I nodded, a little grin pulling at my mouth. "Deal."

 

The quiet scout till now moved forward, his face white. "We have to migrate. Here now.

 

Dax gave a frown. "Why?"

 

The scout gestured towards the edge of the clearing, where the moonlight gleamed in faint paw prints whose edges shimmered oddly.

"Because that's not just a rogue," he continued, his voice faltering. "That's another. Something even worse.


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