The pack meeting the next morning was a disaster waiting to happen.
Wolves clustered in groups, emotions roiling. Some whispered excitedly about Luna's revelation. Others radiated fear so thick I could taste it. The divide was clean as a blade—those willing to consider wholeness, and those clinging to centuries of conditioning.
"We can't seriously be discussing this," Beta Raymond argued. He'd taken Garrett's position temporarily, and his fear made him harsh. "Reuniting with shadows? It's madness!"
"Is it?" Sarah, the young wolf from last night, stood opposing him. "We all felt what Luna showed us. That completion. That peace."
"For a moment!" Raymond snarled. "Before they try to possess us again!"
Marcus let them argue, watching from the Alpha's platform. I stood opposite him, our new dynamic still uncertain. Co-leaders who weren't mates—the pack didn't know how to process it.
Luna sat between us, small legs swinging, humming softly. Through our bond, I felt her cataloguing every emotion in the room. Learning. Preparing.
"Enough," Marcus finally commanded. "The truth is, we don't have enough information. Aria, you trained with Selene. What do the Ancients say about this?"
All eyes turned to me. I chose my words carefully. "Selene knew something was broken in our nature. That's why she gathered the rejected—we feel the fracture most keenly. But even she didn't know about the Severing."
"So we're flying blind," Raymond pressed. "While shadow creatures circle our territory!"
"They haven't attacked since last night," I pointed out.
"Because they're waiting! Seeing if we're stupid enough to—"
Luna's humming stopped. "You're scared of your own feelings."
The room went silent. She stood, all three feet of terrifying potential.
"That's why you cut the shadows away. Not because they were bad, but because feeling everything was scary. So you made rules. Only happy. Only angry in battle. Only sad at funerals." She tilted her head. "But feelings don't follow rules."
"She's a child," Raymond said dismissively. "She doesn't understand—"
Luna's power flared, and suddenly Raymond was feeling everything he'd suppressed for forty years. Every grief unprocessed, every fear unexamined, every joy cut short by propriety. He crashed to his knees, sobbing.
"Luna!" I moved to stop her, but she was already pulling back.
"See?" she said simply. "You have shadows inside already. You just pretend they're not there."
Raymond stayed on his knees, shaking. Around him, wolves backed away—but I felt their recognition. How many carried similar buried emotions?
"Perhaps," Elder Thorne said slowly, "we should consider a trial period. Volunteers only. See if reconnection is possible without... losing ourselves."
"And if the Order attacks during this 'trial'?" someone demanded.
"Then we defend ourselves," Marcus said firmly. "But we also ask why. What triggers the hunger? What soothes it? We can't fight what we don't understand."
The meeting dissolved into smaller arguments. As wolves filed out, I noticed the divisions forming. Younger wolves, those who'd felt like outsiders, gravitated toward acceptance. Older wolves, established ones, clung to tradition.
Marcus approached as I lifted Luna. "She can't keep doing that. Forcing wolves to feel."
"She's three," I reminded him. "Control comes with time."
"Time we might not have." He paused, vulnerability flickering through. "Walk with me?"
I hesitated. Being alone with him still hurt. But Luna was already reaching for him, and I couldn't deny her the father she'd never known.
We walked to the lake where we'd once promised forever. The irony wasn't lost on either of us.
"I dream about it," he said quietly. "The rejection. Every night, I feel what I did to you. To her."
"Good."
He flinched but nodded. "I deserve that. And worse." He watched Luna chase fireflies, her laughter bright. "She's extraordinary."
"She's also dangerous. The pack's right about that."
"All power is dangerous. It's what we do with it that matters." He turned to me. "You've changed. The Aria I knew would have been gentler. Softer."
"The Aria you knew died on that hall floor." I met his gaze steadily. "This Aria survived. There's a difference."
"I know. And I mourn her—the gentle Luna who felt everything so deeply it broke her." His voice cracked. "I killed her as surely as if I'd used claws."
Luna returned, clutching fireflies in cupped palms. "Look! Dancing lights!" She opened her hands, and the insects swirled between us, drawn to her power.
"Beautiful, baby," I murmured.
"Like you and Daddy dancing," she said innocently. "I see it in the old memories. Through the pack bonds. You were happy then."
The pain of it stole my breath. Marcus made a sound like a wounded animal.
"That was before," I managed.
"Before what?"
How did you explain betrayal to innocence? "Before we learned that sometimes love isn't enough."
Luna considered this with too-serious eyes. "Then maybe you need something more than love. Maybe you need..." She paused, searching for words. "Maybe you need shadows too. The hurt parts. The angry parts. The parts that don't forgive."
"Some things can't be forgiven, little moon," Marcus said roughly.
"Maybe. But they can still be felt." She yawned. "Feeling them changes them. That's what the shadows taught me."
As I carried her back to our quarters—separate from Marcus's, despite pack gossip—I wondered if my three-year-old was wiser than all of us.
That night, the first volunteer came forward.
Thomas, a wolf who'd lost his mate years ago but never properly grieved. He stood in the moonlight, shaking but determined.
"I want to try," he said simply. "I want to feel whole again."
I stayed with him as he opened himself to the possibility. At first, nothing. Then, like mist forming, a shadow condensed from the forest. Not attacking. Approaching.
"My grief," Thomas whispered. "I buried it so deep it became something else."
The shadow touched him, and instead of possession, there was... recognition. For a moment, wolf and shadow existed together. Not merged, but acknowledged.
Then the shadow faded, and Thomas stood taller. Still grieving, but no longer brittle with denial.
"It's possible," he breathed. "Sky above, it's actually possible."
Word spread like wildfire. By dawn, three more wolves had tried. Two succeeded. One fled screaming, but unharmed.
The revolution had begun.
But in the deep forest, Ancient shadows watched and waited. Because every revolution had a price.
And ours was coming due.