The Luna's Goodbye

I hadn’t been home for three days, and my mate hadn’t even tried to find me. The last time we fought about Lena, I took off to stay at my best friend Rayna’s den for a few nights. Elias probably assumed I was angry again and didn’t want to deal with the drama.

Then Lena called him. Her voice was soft, but there was a tremble in it that I knew was just for show. “Elias, there’s a storm rolling in tonight, and I’m terrified. Can you come stay with me?”

I saw Elias’s grip on his comm-stone tighten, then loosen. His voice was calm. “Lena, I’m mated. It’s not a good idea for me to come to your den.”

For a moment, I thought he might actually be showing some restraint. But then, with the same confident tone he always used, he added, “But you can come here. Kyra’s not home.”

Even Lena seemed taken aback. “Are you sure, Elias? What if she comes back? How would we explain it?”

I almost laughed. She knew exactly what she was doing, playing innocent like a frightened pup.

Elias brushed it off like it was nothing. “What is there to explain? This is my territory, and you’re my friend. I don’t have to justify it to her.”

He sounded so certain, so detached. “Besides,” he added, “she’s not coming back.”

Lena paused, her breath catching. Then, trying to sound casual, she asked, “How do you know?”

Realizing she might’ve overstepped, she quickly corrected herself. “I mean, did Kyra get mad at you again?”

Elias sighed, exasperated. “Yeah, it was on our anniversary. I told her I was going to see you, and she lost it.”

“It’s frustrating,” he continued. “Even though we’re just friends, she’s always suspicious! I chose her as my mate, but it’s never enough. You, though—you’ve been patient, always standing by. I should’ve apologized to you sooner.”

I nearly howled in disbelief. Who celebrates their ten-year anniversary with their former alpha, the one who should’ve been left behind after mating? And the night they celebrated was the same night I died.

So tell me, Elias—next year, will you mark your anniversary or my death?

Lena rushed over to our den, and the moment she saw Elias, she threw herself into his arms. “Elias, it’s so dark and wild out there. I was terrified!”

I rolled my eyes, unseen and unheard. Every night was dark in the forest, and I’d never seen her this scared of anything before.

Elias gave her a comforting embrace, patting her back softly. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

He showed her the candles he had set up—long, white, emergency candles that filled the room with a warm, protective glow. “Even if the storm knocks the power out, we’ll have plenty of light,” he said, ever the problem-solver.

Lena leaned into him with a sigh. “You’re my hero, Elias.”

As the night deepened, Lena excused herself to freshen up. She slipped into the washroom, raiding my personal things like they were hers. She rummaged through my scented oils, mixing them carelessly, leaving the lids unscrewed and everything in disarray.

She smirked at her reflection. “Kyra won’t mind. She’s not coming back anyway.”

From the shadows, I watched her through the mirror, unseen but very much present. Outside, thunder cracked, and a flash of lightning lit up the room. In that moment, the air shimmered, and a dark, ghostly figure took shape on the floor.

Lena screamed and stumbled backward, calling out for Elias.

He burst through the door, pulling her into his arms like some kind of hero. She clung to him, shaking. “Elias, isn’t this dangerous? What if your mate... what if she’s still out there?”

Elias’s expression hardened, his voice cold and certain. “I don’t care.”

Lightning flashed again, casting a harsh glow across his face. “Even if she is, she’s got no claim over me. If it weren’t for her, you’d never have left. We would’ve been together from the start.”

He shrugged, his tone dismissive. “If she’s gone for good, that’s her problem, not mine.”

Ah, Elias. You really believe you don’t care, don’t you? I’ve seen that cold, distant expression of yours, the one you wear so well. You’ve always been so good at pretending. So good at keeping people at arm’s length, making them believe that nothing ever gets under your skin. I used to admire it—how effortlessly you could brush things off, how nothing ever seemed to ruffle your perfect, composed facade. But I wonder… is it all just an act? Are you really that indifferent, or have you just convinced yourself you are?

You think you’ve shut me out, that I’m just another fleeting thought, someone you can discard as easily as a passing breeze. But that’s the thing, isn’t it, Elias? People like you always underestimate just how deeply someone can burrow beneath the surface, how close they can get without you even realizing it. You think you’re untouchable, above it all, but I’ve been watching. I’ve been waiting. And soon, you’ll find out just how close I really am.

The funny thing is, I don’t need you to feel the way I feel. I don’t need you to admit anything, to acknowledge the truth. No, Elias, I don’t need your words. Because soon enough, you’ll feel it in your bones. You’ll sense me everywhere, in every shadow, in every whispered breeze that catches you off guard. I’m closer than you think. Closer than you’d ever admit to yourself.

And when that moment comes—when you finally realize that I’ve been there all along, right on the edge of your perfect little world—what will you do? Will you still pretend to feel nothing? Will you keep up that cold front, convincing yourself that you’re impervious, untouchable? Or will something crack in that carefully crafted armor of yours? I wonder, Elias. I truly do.

Because I know the truth. I know that indifference isn’t real. It’s a mask, a shield you’ve wrapped around yourself so tightly that you’ve started believing it’s your skin. But masks can slip. Shields can break. And when they do, when the truth finally claws its way to the surface, I’ll be there, watching. Waiting.