Soon...You Will Shine

Soon...You Will Shine
Amelia

Kane’s boots are already on. His jaw is tight, the lines of his face cut sharper than usual, all harsh angles and control. I stand between him and the door like that might stop him, arms crossed even though my palms are sweating.
“You’re not going,” he says simply, like it’s already settled.
I tilt my head, lifting my chin. “I can help.”
His eyes darken, and I feel the pull of the bond as his concern spikes. “You’ve helped enough,” he growls. “You’re staying.”
I take a step closer. “You don’t get to make that decision—”
“I do when it’s war.” His voice isn’t raised, but it cuts through me. “And I’d burn this mountain before I let you walk into danger again.”
I feel the storm in me rise, the need to scream, to slam a door, to claw at something that makes me feel this powerless. But then I see it, beneath the anger, the shadows stirring low in his gaze, it’s fear.
Not for himself. For me.
I swallow hard, throat thick. “Don’t die.”
He moves in close, brushing his lips over my forehead. “I won’t.” His voice softens, rough velvet. “But if something tries to touch you while I’m gone…”
He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to.
Then he’s gone.

Ruthanne is in the hall when I turn around, half-shadowed and silent as a ghost. I blink at her, unsure how long she’s been there.
“You okay?” she asks, voice hesitant, unreadable.
I nod slowly. “Just… tense.”
She offers a tight smile, but her emotions are hard to track, jumbled, muted, not the sharp spikes of despair I’ve grown used to sensing from her.
Is it Nathan? Did he break through her walls?
I want to ask, but don’t. My instincts buzz in the back of my skull, but there’s no time for puzzle pieces right now.
“I need to go,” I murmur. “Stay inside. Lock the door behind you.”
She nods, biting her lip like she might say something more—but then turns away.

The storm in me is restless by the time I reach the heart of the mountain.
The central area is packed. Shifters pacing, voices raised, bodies tense. Fear. So much of it.
It coils around the young ones pressed to their parents. It drips from the shoulders of every pack member.
All of it rushes into me like a flood.
My knees buckle slightly at the intensity. I catch myself against the wall.
So many minds. So many hearts. And all of them full of emotion.

A girl sobs in the far corner. Her mother hushes her. An elder lifts a trembling hand. And I can’t take it anymore.
I step into the middle of the chamber.
“I need your attention,” I call out, my voice trembling. It cracks, but they turn. The room stills, slowly.
I’ve never done this. Not like this. Not with so many eyes. Not without Kane at my side.
But I am Luna.
“I know you’re scared,” I begin. “I know the last few months have been hell.” Confusion, fear, pain....I feel it all.” My throat closes, but I push through. “And now, we’re bracing again. Waiting for fire. Waiting for death.”
I look around, catching their eyes.
“But you are the strongest wolves I have ever known. They tell stories of this pack where I come from.....I’ve heard them from traveling alphas when I was a slave. When they speak of this pack...our pack, they do so out of fear...fear in their hearts and minds of you...of us. We are the villain in their stories for good reason. You always fight, you always win, and you always survive.”
Someone near the front nods, biting back tears.
“I feel your fear,” I whisper. “I feel your heartbreak. I carry it with you.”
And then I let the storm rise.
Not the wind. Not the fury.
The emotion.

I stretch out the threads of connection, tethering to each spark to life. I amplify hope.....just a little. The possibility. The reminder.
You are not alone. You are not broken. You are pack.

“I’m scared too.”
The words were heavier than I meant them to be. I hadn’t planned on saying them. But the truth of it sat on my shoulders like wet stone.
“I’m scared because I feel what you all feel,” I said, voice quieter now, more intimate. “I feel your grief, your fear, your anger.” My eyes swept the crowd again, catching widened gazes. “It’s what I was born with. It’s part of me. I don’t get to turn it off.”
Somewhere in the back, a child whimpered. A mother hushed him. Someone shifted beside the old well, arms folded tight across his chest.
“I don’t want to lie to you,” I went on. “There will be more fights. Kane can hold back the dark, but not forever. Not alone. But you’re not alone either.”
I closed my eyes, just for a second.
And then I reached for the thread.

That pulse of storm-light that lived in my chest. The part of me that had terrified me when it first surged awake in the council hall. The part that, more and more, felt like me.
I let it rise.
It was subtle, at first. A shimmer behind the eyes. A tiny lifting of tight shoulders. A breath drawn a little deeper.
But the fear didn’t leave.
So I pushed more.
I let my gift stretch like wind rolling over a field, brushing one packmate at a time. A flicker of warmth. A whisper of courage. I didn’t erase the fear; I just quieted it. Turned it into resolve.
Something stronger.

The emotions shifted around me, like the tide. I could feel them, the raw edges dulling, the panic receding. In its place came hope. Just a sliver. Enough to soften the heaviness in the square.
And, it made my chest ache.
I was manipulating them.
Even with good intentions, it felt wrong.
As if I were puppeteering the people I was supposed to protect. Who would I be if I kept doing this?
They were calming, but not because of words. Not because they chose to trust me. Because I pushed them to.

When I opened my eyes, the crowd had shifted. They stood straighter. Watched me like I was more than a Luna.
I felt the power settle again, curling back beneath my skin like a drawn tide.
But the guilt lingered. It clawed in my chest like something wild.
I stepped down from the stone circle, ready to retreat, to disappear into the house and try to scrub the shame off my soul.
Then.....
“Little storm.”
I froze.

The voice slithered across the back of my mind like cold oil.
It was the relic.
And I wasn’t anywhere near it.
I turned in place, eyes scanning the square, heart jackhammering. People still murmured, smiled at me, unaware of the weight that had just dropped on my shoulders.
“You shone again.”
My throat went dry.
The bond with Kane flared, concern tightening from afar, but I pushed it down.

“You call them to you. You sway them like leaves.”
“You were made for more than standing behind him.”

I clenched my fists. Not here. Not now.
But the voice coiled tighter.

“Soon,” it whispered, giddy and cold. “Soon, you will see what the storm truly is.”

Then, silence.
I stood frozen, trembling, my storm unsettled under my skin. No one around me noticed.

I was losing control.....losing my mind.