MOONLIGHT REBOUND: The Rejected Luna's Return

VALEN

f faces, my pack, while a laugh cleaves the air, I shift, at last, and the world opens like a throat. Then

oon-shaped mark on my shoulder before my brain can remember it's supposed to be a scar. Muscle remembers what thought denie

s been i

d, splinters are gone from the wood as though a desperate animal has tried it. On the worn rug by the foot of my bed, the

me, no, the name they used to use for me, Valen is smeared across i

t shift, appare

ds. The other part, the part that survived cold and knives and exile, peels the paper from the pin and

nket neatly. Routine stabilizes the edges, I dress in the school blazer and trousers like armor and tell myself no one

ifferent colors, all merged into one glowing mass of privilege and hunger. I move as a shadow moves, t

inds

. I've just taken my first bite of bread when a presence slides into the seat opposite me, and I know, witho

that refuses to be tamed and eyes that carry the steady look of someone who's cataloged losses and

ew," he s

level and give him nothing

ed slate across the table toward me, not

d for truth enough to grant me admission but not so much truth that I mu

and broken. People stand, chairs scrape, someone drops their mug and the clatter dances through the hall, heads turn toward

people rearrange themselves without thinking. He's been the heir since he learned to howl, he's been the one destiny

It's not the gentle pull of fate, this is sharper, a lightning memory that hurts like an actual wound. The wolf stirs, claws pricking at the back of m

ord of tension vibrates through the air. People stare, a few of the table's occupants let out low noises, admiration, curiosity,

em of my blazer, I will not give him the moment of watching me flinch, I wi

e thinks beneath him, steps around my table and cocks a grin. "Well, well," he says loud enough that the soun

ghten, the wolf roars, it's a sound

It's a small, grounding prese

tand to let fools lie unchecked,

of someone who likes to make myths crack, he reaches for my shoulder. He wants to pres

never make i

d of the room. A slip of silver wind, a flash across the table, and Calen jerks back as if stung, t

by bruises, steps between us, eyes sharp. "No blood," he int

forcing it bright. "She

racticed ease that hides nothing and everything and as he departs, three things happen too quickly to be a coincidence: a figure on the balcony above the dining ha

y. Someone has scribbled a single word, all caps, with a

tches me with urgency. His mouth moves, I can't make out the words, but

e. "We should go

ve. Others are the kind that demand movement, I tuck the paper into m

t the corner of my vision, a figure in a dark hood pauses and looks toward us, I'm sure at once that the person doesn't belong in the crowd. They

er a list posted by the registrar's door like an animal testing wate

k to the wood. The scrap of paper in my pocket burns cold thro

t still binds me and a future that wants to

a rope tugging me toward something I thought I'd left behind. I have returned to the world with claws s

l rise, I wi