Diary Entry My Twenty-First Autumn
I never thought I would love a place made of stone and shadow.
The tunnels beneath Stella Rune were meant to be a refuge, a place for supernaturals to move freely without fear of being seen.
But to me, they are more than that. They are camouflage.
Down here, I exist without expectation. No one knows my name, my history, my fears, my dreams. In that anonymity, I have found something unexpected.
Community.
For so long, I was raised to be a wife, to breed, to serve—until the beast plucked me from that path. And down here, with the damp air cool against my skin and the lanterns casting soft, flickering light, I feel alive. I feel myself transforming.
I’ve wandered alone for hours at times, tracing the etched runes along the walls, letting my fingers skim over centuries of secrets. I’ve sat in shops, listened to people’s stories, heard their histories, discovered how they live. I’ve learned what life is like—and how to live it myself.
And if I don’t come home after some time, he will find me. I’ve made it my game.
He is too careful with me. Too cautious. And I want him to feel as free as I do.
So I run, and hide, and wait.
Tonight, I hid on a secret ledge over the water, the salt in the air so thick, I could taste it. I let my feet dangle above the endless ocean, the dark waves stretching into forever. It reminded me of my powers—vast and unknowable, a darkness that saw all and held everything within it.
He found me easily, as he always does. He sat beside me without a word, the weight of his presence familiar, steady.
At first, I could feel the frustration rolling off of him, though little by little, it faded. Being with me appeared to calm him, and I was happy to be that for him. But I wanted more. So much more.
Finally, I spoke. “Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if you hadn’t taken me that night? If you hadn’t destroyed them all?”
He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, his voice came, rough but certain. “No.”
I turned to him. He was already watching me, his expression raw and unguarded.
“No?” I repeated, my chest tight.
His lips quirked, but there was no amusement in his expression. “There is no life—no path, no version of this world—where I would have left you there.”
Something in me broke open then, and before I could second-guess myself, I reached for him. He stilled as my fingers brushed along his jaw, but he didn’t pull away. So I took more, shifting until I straddled him, my knees pressing into the stone on either side of his hips.
He said my name, over and over.
Luna, Luna, Luna.
That moment was everything. Every beginning and every end. It was too much. And it will never be enough.
I am his moon. And he is my wolf.