Chapter 19 Luna
Luna
Notebook: Sometimes heroes look like broken things that refused to stay down.
“Today, we’ll show you the compound,” Ethan says as we walk across the lawn. “You can meet some of the tenants.”
I nod, curious to see more of this place, and the kind of people Hudson and his pack protect. As we approach a large wooden structure, I spot a few people milling about—males, females, even a couple of kids playing in the grass.
“This way,” Axel grunts, leading me around back.
My steps slow as a massive barn comes into view. A broad pasture stretches beyond, filled with animals—birds pecking at the dirt, a few majestic horses grazing, cows, goats, and even… is that a hippo in the water?
But when I slow down and look closer, my breath catches. Jagged scars. Burns. Missing limbs.
My stomach drops as realization crashes over me.
“They’re all shifters,” I whisper, the words tasting like disbelief and rage all at once. I’d heard rumors about non-wolf shifters, but I’d always thought they were just that—rumors. Myths. Bedtime stories.
Ethan nods. “Some say they’re lesser shifters. But we don’t discriminate, no matter their form. Most of them were cast out by their packs for not being born wolves. Abused. Forgotten. We give them a haven.”
“They’re seen as inferior,” Axel mutters, his usual manic energy subdued. “Abominations. They’ve been through hell, and then some.”
Ethan places a hand on my shoulder. “We rescue who we can. Give them a place to heal.”
Tears sting my eyes, these poor souls. I want to wrap them all in my arms and never let go. My wolf presses forward, aching to comfort them.
“I can’t believe it,” I choke out, tears burning behind my eyes. “How could anyone do this to them?”
Ethan’s hand settles on my shoulder, warm and steadying. “The current political head is pushing for wolf-centric policies. Genocide against all non-wolves. It’s a narrow view of who deserves to live.” His fingers tighten slightly. “Most of it happens behind closed doors.”
The current political head? My brain stutters, making the connection.
Conrad’s father.
My scent match’s father.
Oh my God. I came within a breath of being part of that family. Of standing beside a male whose bloodline is steeped in this kind of hatred.
Bile rises in my throat. I swallow hard, looking between Ethan and Axel with new eyes.
These males aren’t just alphas. They’re protectors. Guardians. Maybe even heroes.
I glance back at the wounded shifters, my heart swelling with a fierce urge to help them, to make a difference. This is more than just a sanctuary.
“Ignorance and hate make people capable of terrible things,” Ethan says. “Most think being different is dangerous. But our differences, our diversity, that’s where our strength lies. Until the world learns that, we protect who we can.”
Rage boils in my blood as I take in their battered bodies. How could anyone be so cruel?
“I want to help them,” I say. “However I can.”
Axel grins. “Knew you’d understand, Wildcat. You’re a survivor, like us.”
I crouch near a white bunny huddled in the corner of a pen, trembling. He shrinks away, brown eyes wide with fear.
“Hey there, little one,” I murmur. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”
Slowly, he hops a little closer. Scars crisscross his soft fur.
“I’m Luna,” I whisper, scratching behind his ear, and realization washes over me and I glance up. “Wait… is Oli a bunny? Was that him the other day?”
Axel barks a laugh. “Yep. The little shit took full advantage of nestling in your cleavage.”
I give the bunny’s paw a gentle squeeze, then rise. A flutter of wings draws my eye to a brightly colored bird on a nearby fence post.
“Hello there, beautiful,” I say, approaching with my hands open in front of me. “I’m Luna.”
The bird shifter tilts its head, wary. One wing is mangled, feathers missing.
Then something bumps against my ankle. I look down to find the russet bunny with familiar mischief in his eyes.
“Oli?” I breathe.
He twitches his nose adorably. I scoop him up.
“I should’ve known,” I say, holding him to my chest. “But I’m still calling you Fluffy.”
The guys chuckle as Oli snuggles deeper into my arms.
“That’s why Damien’s so protective of him,” Ethan says. “Oli is one of the lucky ones. He never saw the worst of it. He spends a lot of time with the other bunnies. Or… nestled somewhere warm.” He winks.
Across the yard, I spot a small raccoon limping. Axel moves toward it, lifting it into a cushioned pen. Then he crosses to a squirrel with a missing tail and gently strokes its back.
My heart melts. I never expected Axel to be so gentle.
“Are you… is she The Luna?” a soft voice asks.
I turn to find a teenage girl, wide-eyed, staring at me.
“Scarred Luna from InstaShifter?” she probes deeper.
I blink. “Uh. Yeah, that’s me.”
Her face lights up. “You’re famous here! Everyone was thrilled when you rejected that snobby, hateful asshole.”
She throws her arms around me, then hurries off to join a group of teens.
Ethan raises an eyebrow. “What was that about?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on. Like Hudson didn’t tell you.”
He shakes his head, his expression blank.
“Conrad Clawford’s my scent match. Or was. He rejected me. I rejected him right back.” I cross my arms. “Dodged a bullet. No way I’d be with a male like that. Scent match or not.”
Ethan’s eyes narrow, thoughtful. But before I can ask what he’s thinking, a distant hum catches my attention.
Axel walks back to us and grabs my hand, a familiar manic grin spreading across his face. “C’mon. I wanna show you something.”
We take off past the barn, up a grassy hill that leaves me slightly breathless. Beyond it, a dirt racetrack stretches out in a wide, oval shape. And there, looking unfairly hot in a tight black t-shirt, is Damien.
He straddles a dirt bike, its engine growling beneath him. A little boy sits in front of him on the seat, sandy curls bouncing as they ride slow laps. The kid is laughing, shrieking with delight.
And Damien is… smiling.
Not his usual scowl or sneer, but a genuine, dimpled grin that transforms his entire face. He looks younger, lighter… almost carefree.
I stop in my tracks, stunned. I can’t stop staring.
Axel chuckles beside me. “Play your cards right, Wildcat, and maybe Damien will give you a ride.”
He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
I elbow him in the ribs. “Shut up.”
As if sensing my presence, Damien’s head snaps up. Our eyes lock across the distance, and the smile vanishes from his face as if it had never been there. He slows the bike, sets the boy down, and sends him running toward a nearby woman, his mother, I assume.
Damien swings off the bike and stalks away, jaw tight, shoulders rigid. Just like that, the carefree version of him disappears behind the mask of the brooding, angry male I’ve come to expect.
What the hell did I ever do to him?
My wolf whines at the loss of his smile.
The rest of the day slips by in conversation, story after story, each one more devastating than the last. It feels good to connect with them. But hearing what they’ve survived? That’s something else entirely.
Ethan approaches, his expression softening as he takes me in. “Are you alright, Luna?”
“Yeah. I will be. It’s just… a lot to take in. The horrors they’ve endured…” I swallow hard. “But I’m glad they have this place. They have you and a pack of alphas looking out for them.”
“We do what we can,” he says. “It’s not always easy, but watching them slowly heal—reclaim their lives, it’s worth it.”
I nod, glancing around at the recovering shifters. Some are tending the gardens, while others are tending to their fellow shifters. There’s a quiet sense of purpose here. Of safety.
“You’re making a real difference,” I murmur. “Giving them a chance to thrive again. It’s incredible.”
He huffs a laugh. “Don’t sound so surprised. We’re not just a bunch of brutish males, you know.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me with those bulging muscles and macho attitudes… Well, you and Oli are fine. Damien and Axel, on the other hand…” I tease, but I know it’s not true even as I say it. There’s more depth to these males than I could have ever imagined.
Ethan flashes a wolfish grin. “It’s part of our charm.”
“I want to help. These shifters deserve justice and freedom from their abusers. I can’t just stand by. Not now that I’ve seen…”
“You keep proving me right,” he says. “I won’t lie. We’re up against powerful, dangerous people. But if you’re sure…”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life,” I say.
My heart swells as I look at the males around me; fierce, loyal, and unexpectedly compassionate beneath their gruff exteriors. They’ve opened their hearts and homes to the broken and abused. They’re not my buyers anymore.
Something shifts inside, and warmth blooms in my chest, threaded with admiration.
Respect.
My lips curve.
Oh, I’m going soft for these males, aren’t I?