I didn't sleep that night.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of the evening in my mind. Damon's kiss. His whispered apology. The way he'd looked at me in the clearing like I was something precious. And then the attack, the blood on his clothes, the way he'd walked away without another word.

We held them off. For now.

Those words echoed in my head long after the last sounds of battle had faded. For now. It meant there would be more. It meant the threat wasn't over. It meant that whatever was coming, we weren't prepared for it.

When dawn finally broke, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, I gave up on sleep. I dressed quickly and stepped outside, needing to see for myself what had happened.

The pack territory was quiet, but it was the kind of quiet that comes after violence-hushed, tense, waiting. Warriors moved between huts, their faces grim. Some carried bandages, others sharpened weapons. The smell of blood still hung in the air, coppery and faint.

I found Finn near the healing hut, his arm wrapped in fresh bandages. He looked up when I approached and tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Luna." He nodded respectfully. "You shouldn't be out here. It's not safe."

"I need to know what happened." I sat down beside him on the bench outside the hut. "Please. I'm tired of being kept in the dark."

Finn hesitated, then sighed. "Red Claw scouts. A dozen of them, maybe more. They hit the northern border just after midnight. We drove them back, but..." He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

"But what?"

"We lost two warriors. Tanner and Birch. They were on patrol when the attack came. Didn't stand a chance."

My heart clenched. I hadn't known them well-I'd barely had time to learn everyone's names-but they were pack. They were mine to protect, and I hadn't even been there.

"Alpha's taking it hard," Finn continued quietly. "Tanner was one of his oldest friends. They grew up together."

I looked toward the Alpha's hut, which stood apart from the others, larger and more imposing. The door was closed, the windows dark. Was Damon in there, grieving alone? Or was he already planning, strategizing, pushing his pain aside for the sake of the pack?

"I should go to him," I murmured, half to myself.

Finn shook his head. "He gave orders not to be disturbed. Said he needed time to think." He paused, then added, "Beta Caleb's with him. They've been in there all night."

Something twisted in my chest at those words-jealousy, maybe, or just the familiar ache of being excluded. Caleb could be with him. Caleb could share his burden. But I, his own mate, was left outside.

I pushed the thought away. This wasn't about me. This was about the pack, about mourning, about preparing for whatever came next.

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked Finn. "For the families? For the wounded?"

Finn's expression softened. "Actually, yes. The healer's overwhelmed. If you could help with the injured..."

I was on my feet before he finished the sentence. "Of course. Show me where."

The healing hut was chaos.

Wounded warriors lay on makeshift beds, their injuries ranging from deep claw marks to broken bones. The pack healer, an older woman named Marta, moved between them with practiced efficiency, but I could see the exhaustion in her eyes.

"Luna." She looked up as I entered, surprise flickering across her face. "You shouldn't be here. This is no place for-"

"I'm here to help." I cut her off before she could finish whatever dismissive comment was coming. "Tell me what to do."

For a moment, she looked like she might argue. Then she nodded, gesturing toward a young warrior with a deep gash in his side. "Clean that wound and bandage it. I'll be with the critical cases."

I set to work, grateful for something to do with my hands. The warrior-his name was Kael, I remembered suddenly-winced as I pressed a cloth to his wound, but he didn't cry out.

"Sorry," I murmured. "I know it hurts."

"S'all right." His voice was strained. "Better than being dead, like Tanner and Birch."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I focused on my work. Cleaning, stitching, bandaging. The movements were familiar-my mother had been a healer in my old pack, and she'd taught me everything she knew before she passed.

As I worked, I listened to the conversations around me. Warriors talking about the attack, about the Red Claw's numbers, about how close they'd come to breaching the border. The mood was grim, but there was something else underneath it-a fierce determination, a refusal to be broken.

"They won't stop," one of the wounded said, his voice low. "You know that, right? Red Claw's been wanting our territory for years. This is just the beginning."

"Then we'll be ready," another replied. "Alpha Damon won't let them take what's ours."

"Damon's strong, but he can't fight a war alone. We need allies. We need-"

The conversation stopped abruptly as the hut's door opened. I looked up, my hands still pressed to Kael's bandages, and felt my heart skip.

Caleb stood in the doorway.

He looked exhausted-dark circles under his eyes, his clothes rumpled and stained with blood. But his gaze found me immediately, and something in his expression shifted. Relief, maybe. Or surprise.

"Luna." His voice was rough. "I didn't expect to find you here."

"Someone needs to help." I finished tying off Kael's bandage and stood, wiping my hands on a cloth. "How is Damon?"

Caleb's jaw tightened. "Grieving. Planning. Refusing to sleep." He paused. "He asked about you."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "He did?"

"Wanted to know if you were safe. I told him you were in your hut, resting." A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Guess I was wrong about that."

"I couldn't just sit there doing nothing." I moved toward him, lowering my voice so the others wouldn't hear. "Tell me the truth, Caleb. How bad is it?"

He glanced around, then nodded toward the door. "Walk with me."

Outside, the morning sun had fully risen, but it did nothing to dispel the chill in the air. We walked in silence for a moment, away from the huts, toward the edge of the territory where the trees grew thick and old.

"The Red Claw is better organized than we thought," Caleb finally said. "They hit us in three places at once-distractions, mostly, but it divided our forces. If Damon hadn't been so quick to respond, they might have broken through."

"But they didn't."

"No. But we lost good warriors, and they lost almost no one. They were testing us, Elara. Probing our defenses. Next time, they won't send scouts. They'll send an army."

I stopped walking, turning to face him. "How long do we have?"

"A week. Maybe two. Long enough to prepare, but not long enough to call for help from the other packs." He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration I was beginning to recognize. "Damon's talking to the elders now, trying to figure out our next move. He's... he's carrying a lot."

"I know." I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold. "I wish he'd let me help."

Caleb's expression softened. "He will. Eventually. He just... he's not good at letting people in. Never has been. Even when we were kids, he kept everything inside. It's how he survived."

"How did you two meet?" The question came out before I could stop it. "Finn mentioned you grew up together."

A distant look crossed Caleb's face. "Damon's family took me in when I was seven. My parents died in a rogue attack, and I was alone, wandering the forest. Damon's father found me, brought me to the pack. Gave me a home." He paused. "Damon was eight. He hated me at first-didn't want to share his parents, his life. But after a while, we became brothers. Closer than blood."

"And now?" I asked softly.

"Now I'd die for him." Caleb's voice was steady, certain. "And I'd die for you, Elara. You're his mate. That makes you family too."

The words settled over me like a warm blanket. Family. I hadn't felt like I belonged anywhere since I'd come to Shadowfang, but in that moment, standing in the forest with Caleb's steady gaze on me, I felt something shift.

"Thank you," I whispered. "For saying that."

He smiled-that warm, genuine smile that made my heart flutter in ways it shouldn't. "It's the truth."

We stood there for a long moment, the silence comfortable between us. Then a twig snapped somewhere in the distance, and Caleb's head whipped around, his body tensing.

"Did you hear that?"

I listened, holding my breath. At first, nothing. Then-a rustle of leaves, soft and deliberate. Footsteps. Someone was out there.

"Stay behind me," Caleb murmured, already shifting into a protective stance. His muscles coiled, ready to spring.

The footsteps came closer. A figure emerged from between the trees-a woman, small and slight, with dark hair and frightened eyes.

Mira.

She gasped when she saw us, pressing a hand to her chest. "Beta Caleb! Luna! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I was just... I was walking and I heard voices, and I..."

"Mira." I moved toward her, relief flooding through me. "What are you doing out here alone? I told you not to walk by yourself."

Her face paled. "I know, I know, but I couldn't sleep. After the attack, I was so scared, and I thought if I just walked a little, maybe I could calm down..." She trailed off, her eyes darting to the trees behind her. "But I keep feeling like someone's watching me. Even now. Like there are eyes in the shadows."

Caleb was immediately alert. "Did you see anyone?"

"No. Just... just a feeling. Like when you know someone's in the room even though you can't see them." She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'm sorry. I'm probably being paranoid."

"We'll get you back to the pack," Caleb said firmly. "And I'm posting guards near your hut from now on. No arguments."

Mira nodded gratefully, and we started walking back toward the territory. But I couldn't shake the unease that had settled over me. If Mira was right-if someone really was watching her-then the threat might be closer than we thought. And it might not just be the Red Claw.

Back at the pack, I watched as Caleb escorted Mira to her hut, speaking quietly with two warriors who would stand guard through the night. Then he turned to me.

"I need to report this to Damon. Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine." I managed a smile. "Go. Do your duty."

He hesitated for just a moment, his eyes searching my face. Then he nodded and walked away, leaving me alone in the fading light.

I should have gone to my hut. Should have rested, prepared for whatever was coming. But instead, I found myself walking toward the Alpha's hut, my feet carrying me before my mind could catch up.

The door was closed, but I could hear voices inside-Damon's deep rumble, Caleb's quieter tones. I raised my hand to knock, then hesitated.

He said not to be disturbed, I reminded myself. He's planning, grieving. He doesn't need me right now.

But as I stood there, hand frozen in the air, the door suddenly swung open.

Damon stood before me, his eyes red-rimmed, his face haggard. For a moment, he just stared at me, surprise flickering across his features. Then something shifted in his expression-something raw and vulnerable that made my heart ache.

"Elara." His voice was rough. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you." The words came out before I could stop them. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then, without a word, he reached out, took my hand, and pulled me inside.

The door closed behind us, and I found myself in the dim interior of his hut-no, our hut, though I'd never thought of it that way. Maps and papers covered the table, marked with strategies and plans. A half-eaten meal sat untouched in the corner.

"I'm not okay," Damon said quietly, still holding my hand. "I'm tired. I'm angry. I'm grieving. And I don't know how to protect everyone."

I squeezed his fingers. "You don't have to do it alone."

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and for the first time since our wedding night, I saw the man beneath the Alpha. The man who was scared and lost and desperate.

"I know," he whispered. "I'm starting to realize that."

And in that moment, with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the shadows closing in around us, I made a silent promise to myself.

I would help him. I would stand by him. I would be the Luna he needed, the mate he deserved.

But as he pulled me into his arms and held me tight, I couldn't shake the feeling that there were other promises waiting to be made-promises that had nothing to do with duty, and everything to do with the way my heart raced whenever I thought of a certain pair of summer-blue eyes.

Outside, the moon began to rise, cold and distant, and somewhere in the darkness, a wolf howled.

It was a warning.

And none of us were ready for what was coming.

Damon held me for a long time.

Not passionately, not desperately-just quietly, his arms wrapped around me like I was the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly turned to water. I could feel his heartbeat against my cheek, steady and strong, and I let myself sink into the warmth of him, into the rare moment of connection.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were clearer. More focused. The vulnerable man was receding, the Alpha taking his place.

"I need to show you something," he said quietly. He led me to the table covered in maps, pointing to the northern border where someone had drawn rough markings. "This is where they hit us. Three points simultaneously. It's smart-divides our forces, tests our response time."

I studied the map, trying to make sense of the markings. "They were probing. Seeing how fast we could mobilize."

"Exactly." Something flickered in his eyes-surprise, maybe, or respect. "You understand strategy."

"My father was a warrior in my old pack. He used to talk about tactics the way others talk about the weather." I traced the lines on the map with my finger. "If they hit here and here again, they could draw our forces to the edges while sending the main attack through the center."

Damon stared at me for a long moment. "I underestimated you."

"Most people do." I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "I'm not just a pretty face they picked for the ceremony, Damon. I have skills. Knowledge. A brain. If you'd let me use them, I could actually help."

He had the grace to look uncomfortable. "I know. I'm sorry. I've been so focused on protecting you that I forgot you might not need protecting."

"I always need protecting," I admitted softly. "But I also need purpose. I need to feel like I matter to this pack. To you."

His hand came up to cup my face, his thumb tracing along my cheekbone. "You matter. More than anything. I'm just... I'm not good at showing it."

"Then learn." I leaned into his touch despite myself. "Learn to show it. Because I can't keep living like this, Damon-waking up alone, eating alone, feeling like a ghost in my own home."

Pain flickered across his features. "I'll try. I promise. After this threat is dealt with, I'll-"

There was a sharp knock at the door.

Damon's hand dropped, his expression shuttering instantly. "Enter."

Caleb stepped inside, and for a moment, our eyes met. Something passed between us-I couldn't name it, couldn't define it, but it was there, electric and undeniable. Then he looked away, focusing on Damon.

"We've got a situation. One of the patrols didn't report in."

Damon was already moving, grabbing his weapons belt from where it hung on the wall. "Which patrol? How long overdue?"

"Northern ridge. Two hours." Caleb's voice was tight. "I've got a search party ready. We leave in five minutes."

"I'm coming with you." Damon strapped on his belt, then glanced at me. "Elara, stay here. Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone."

"Damon-"

"Please." The word was soft, almost desperate. "I can't focus if I'm worried about you."

I wanted to argue. Wanted to demand that I be allowed to help, to contribute, to be part of this pack instead of just a thing to be protected. But I saw the fear in his eyes-real fear, raw and undisguised-and I couldn't refuse him.

"I'll stay," I said quietly. "But when you come back, we're going to have a real conversation about my role here. No more shutting me out."

He crossed the room in two strides and kissed me-hard, quick, fierce. Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a heavy thud.

I stood there for a long moment, my fingers touching my lips where his had just been. Then I moved to the window, watching as the search party assembled-a dozen warriors, grim-faced and armed, with Caleb and Damon at their head. They moved into the forest with practiced efficiency, disappearing between the trees like shadows.

The hut felt impossibly empty without them.

I tried to follow Damon's orders. I locked the door, checked the windows, made sure every possible entrance was secured. Then I sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

An hour passed. Then two. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional distant howl or the rustle of wind through the trees. I paced. I sat. I paced again.

When the knock came, I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Elara?" The voice was familiar-Mira, high and frightened. "Are you in there? Please, you have to help me."

I crossed to the door, my hand on the lock, then hesitated. Damon's words echoed in my head: Don't open it for anyone.

"Mira?" I called through the wood. "What's wrong?"

"Someone's outside my hut. I saw them-a shadow, moving in the dark. I ran here, but I think they followed me. Please, let me in!"

My heart hammered against my ribs. I wanted to open the door, wanted to help her, but the warning was too fresh. Don't open it for anyone.

"I can't, Mira. I'm sorry. Go to the guard post-it's safer there. I'll watch from the window and make sure you get there."

A pause. Then, in a completely different voice: "Smart girl."

The voice wasn't Mira's. It was deeper, rougher, unmistakably male.

I stumbled back from the door, my blood turning to ice. The handle rattled-once, twice, then a heavy thud as something slammed against the wood. The frame held, but barely.

"Open the door, little Luna." The voice was mocking now, cruel. "We just want to talk."

I didn't answer. I ran to the window, peering through the gap in the curtains. A figure stood outside-tall, cloaked in shadow, his face hidden. Behind him, three more shapes moved through the darkness.

Red Claw. They were here, in the heart of the territory.

I looked toward the guard post, but it was too far. By the time anyone reached me, they'd be through the door. I needed a weapon, needed to defend myself-

The door shuddered again, a crack appearing in the wood.

And then, from outside, a roar of fury.

I pressed my face to the window and saw Caleb. He'd appeared from nowhere, launching himself at the figure by my door. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, and suddenly the night exploded into chaos-warriors appearing from every direction, the Red Claw attackers scattering, fighting, dying.

I watched, frozen, as Caleb dispatched the man who'd been at my door. His movements were fluid, deadly, nothing like the warm, smiling Beta I'd come to know. This was a killer, pure and simple, and he was beautiful in his violence.

When the last attacker fell, Caleb straightened. He was breathing hard, blood streaking his face-not his own, I realized, someone else's. He looked toward the hut, toward the window where I stood, and our eyes met.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then he walked toward the door, and I heard his voice, rough and urgent.

"Elara? Are you okay? Open the door."

I fumbled with the lock, my hands shaking so badly I could barely work it. When I finally got it open, Caleb stood there, his chest heaving, his eyes wild with fear.

"Are you hurt?" He was already reaching for me, his hands running over my arms, my shoulders, checking for injuries. "Did they touch you? Did they get inside?"

"I'm fine." My voice came out as a whisper. "I didn't open the door. I did what Damon said."

Caleb's eyes closed for a moment, relief flooding his features. Then he pulled me into his arms, holding me so tight I could barely breathe.

"I thought I was going to be too late," he murmured against my hair. "When I saw them at your door... I've never run so fast in my life."

I should have pulled away. Should have remembered that he was the Beta, that I was the Luna, that there were lines we couldn't cross. But I didn't. I wrapped my arms around him and held on, feeling his heart race against mine, feeling safe for the first time all night.

"We need to get you somewhere secure," he said finally, pulling back just enough to look at me. "Damon's still at the ridge-there were more of them there. A diversion, maybe. But I'm not leaving you alone again."

He took my hand-a simple gesture, nothing more-and led me out of the hut. The night air was cold against my skin, sharp with the scent of blood and battle. Warriors moved through the shadows, checking bodies, securing the perimeter.

Caleb led me to his own hut, smaller than the Alpha's but warm and clean inside. He guided me to a chair by the fire, then crouched in front of me, his blue eyes searching my face.

"I'll stand guard outside," he said. "You can sleep here. It's safe."

"You're hurt." I reached up without thinking, my fingers brushing against a cut on his cheek. He flinched slightly, then stilled, his eyes darkening.

"It's nothing."

"Let me clean it. Please. I need to do something, or I'll go crazy."

He hesitated, then nodded. I found cloth and water-he directed me to where he kept supplies-and gently cleaned the wound. It was shallow, already healing, but I took my time, my fingers lingering against his skin.

"Thank you," I whispered. "For saving me."

He looked up at me, and something in his gaze made my heart stop. "I'd do it again. Every time. You know that, right?"

I didn't know what to say. Didn't trust my voice. So I just nodded, my hand still against his cheek.

For a long moment, we stayed like that-crouched by the fire, close enough to feel each other's breath, something unspoken burning between us. Then Caleb pulled away, standing abruptly.

"I should... I need to check the perimeter. Make sure they're all gone." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "Stay here. Lock the door behind me. I'll be back at dawn."

Before I could respond, he was gone, the door closing firmly behind him.

I sat there for a long time, staring at the fire, feeling the ghost of his touch on my skin. My heart was still racing, my mind spinning with everything that had happened.

He saved me, I thought. He ran through a battle to save me.

And try as I might, I couldn't convince myself that the warmth spreading through my chest was just gratitude.

Dawn came slowly, painting the sky in shades of gray and gold. I hadn't slept-couldn't sleep, not after everything. When the knock finally came at the door, I was already on my feet.

"It's me." Caleb's voice, tired but familiar.

I opened the door to find him leaning against the frame, exhaustion written in every line of his body. But he smiled when he saw me-that warm, genuine smile that made my heart flutter.

"All clear," he said. "The Red Claw scouts are dead or gone. Damon's back-he's asking for you."

"Damon." I'd almost forgotten, in the chaos of the night. My mate. My Alpha. The man who'd told me to lock my door and wait. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Worried about you." Caleb paused, then added quietly, "I should warn you-he's not happy that I brought you here instead of keeping you in your own hut. It's not... it's not proper, for the Luna to spend the night in the Beta's quarters."

I felt a flush of something-embarrassment, maybe, or guilt. "Nothing happened. You saved my life."

"I know that. You know that." Caleb's eyes met mine. "But the pack might not see it that way. And Damon... he's already on edge. Just... be careful."

I nodded, not trusting my voice. Then I stepped past him, out into the morning light, and walked toward the Alpha's hut where my mate was waiting.

But as I left, I couldn't help glancing back. Caleb stood in his doorway, watching me go, and in his eyes I saw something that made my breath catch.

Longing.

The same longing I felt every time I looked at him.

I turned away quickly, my heart pounding, and walked faster toward Damon. But the image stayed with me-Caleb in the doorway, his blue eyes full of everything we couldn't say, everything we couldn't have.

And I knew, with a certainty that terrified me, that nothing would ever be simple again.