The Luna

13

It's hard not to feel like a rag doll being passed around from owner to owner.

Guards to Caspian.

Caspian to guards.

Back to Caspian and now, Atticus.

I wait to feel some sort of relief at having him here, but between my frustration and the fact that I just saw his son basically being ripped apart, all I feel is the same anxious intimidation I always feel. But I don't want to be rude. I don't want to see Atticus ripped apart in the same horrifying way that his son had been.

Slowly, I place my hand on Atticus' outstretched elbow, and he smiles like the cat that got the canary. The guards bow as he leads us out of Caspian's office and down towards the next large door.

"You seem troubled today, Luna," Atticus says finally as he opens the door, gesturing for me to step into the room.

My eyes sweep over the office in front of me. So similar to Caspian's except for the portrait above the desk. Instead of one painting, there are two, both of equal size and framed in detailed black wooden frames.

Atticus sits in front of two people, similar to the pose of Caspians portrait, but an unfamiliar man and woman stand behind him. His parents, I guess, counting the similarities in the stern-looking man and Atticus. In the next painting, Atticus stands with his arm around Adelaide's shoulder, a tiny white bundle in her arms and proud smiles on both their faces.

"Caspian and I argued," I say numbly, looking at the paintings a moment longer before turning to watch Atticus cross the room to his desk.

"Yes, I heard the end of it," he nods, sitting on a large burgundy leather chair, gesturing for me to have a seat, "I'm sorry about that,"

"It's not your fault," I say automatically. No one should apologize for something that isn't their fault, though knowing that doesn't stop me from still doing it when the roles are reversed.

The sentiment, however, felt hollow coming from Atticus, just like my response back. More like small talk, when someone says 'Good Morning' and you instinctively respond with the same. It'd be rude to completely ignore the person, but they're just being polite in the first place.

Is that what's happening or have I let a small fluke encounter with a strange wolf get to me?

Atticus folds his hands on the table, watching me like he's trying to guess what's in my head. I wonder what my face shows? Does he see my frustration?

I wonder if I were to lay it all out for him, would he take my side? Would he comfort me and tell me that Caspian needs to sit and explain it all to me? Or is the Luna purposely kept in the dark because she is always human? Perhaps they believe that because I am not like them, I won't be able to understand their ways.

But if they would just explain them to me - they would see that I can understand! I mean I accepted that Caspian was a wolf without a freakout - isn't that understanding?!

"He won't tell me anything other than, 'I'm important' and fragile," my voice deepens at the end in a mock of Caspian's voice, though I'm nowhere close to what he actually sounds like.

I flop into the waiting chair like a stubborn toddler who has just been told No. It's just one of the many problems to have, but I guess it's as good a place as any to start. Maybe Atticus will give me at least some answers, enough so that I don't have to question everything for a double meaning - or wonder what a stranger in the woods would be up to.

"I see, but Amelia, he's not wrong. You are not only very important to Caspian but to the pack," he says simply, and I can feel my brows dipping in frustration.

It's really starting to feel like I am going round in circles - over and over again just with a different audience. In fact, the rebuttal sitting on the tip of my tongue is the same one from earlier. Yes, but why am I important?! How am I important?!

What does being a Luna mean!?

I rub my face in frustration, knowing it wouldn't do any good to start another argument. Maybe I am asking too much? Maybe I don't need to know everything right away? Even as I think about it, I know it's not true. Asking for basic answers as to why I am here - why Caspian brought me here - is not too much.

"I imagine it's not easy to be in your shoes, Amelia," he says before I can say anything, leaning back in his chair with a light squeak, "A human among the wolves. I've heard it described from the previous Luna as feeling like a sheep among lions And that can be very lonely as none of us fully understand what it means to be a sheep."

A moment of shock flitters through me. I knew there were other Luna's before me. I mean, there had to have been if they have a ceremony, but they never really mention them. How can someone be so important to a pack, and yet the only one I know of, is me. Maybe that is what I need. Maybe I need to talk to the other Luna's. Surely they know the answers I'm seeking. They can tell me what to expect.

"Yes, Caspian mentioned that they're all human as well?" I said hesitantly, not wanting to upset Atticus as I had so easily upset Caspian, "Maybe if I could talk to one of the previous Luna's?"

Atticus doesn't flinch, doesn't even so much as blink at my words. Instead, he smiles at me with a look in his eyes that I can't read. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and it feels like ice spreads through my body.

I don't understand the reaction and I don't like it.

"I'm sure that can be arranged after the Luna ceremony," his smile widens, showing me the perfect set of white teeth that seem to glisten in the room lights. Goosebumps raise on my arms and I suppress a shiver that threatened to move down my back.

There's that voice again, in the back of my mind, nagging at me that something isn't right. That perhaps leaving with Caspian so quickly was a mistake. I've never really considered myself impulsive and yet it took next to nothing for Caspian to convince me to leave with him.

Thinking about it now though, I realize that I didn't have a choice, even when it seemed I did. Even when it seemed that Caspian had left the ball in my court the entire time, it was all just an illusion.

I try to remain calm, to keep my breathing even. If Atticus notices a change, he doesn't comment on it.

Until now, fear hadn't really been an issue. I wasn't fearful of being here, just frustrated that Caspian promised me answers and then kept pushing me away. But then I met a strange wolf who put one seed of doubt into my head. A seed that is being watered unknowingly.

Funny how that keeps coming back around. I met a strange wolf in the woods that turned into Caspian. I followed him (or was led at the very least) back to his town, to his people, to embrace the title he calls me.

Another wolf finds me alone, out of nowhere. A wolf that is just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. He calls me no names, makes no promises, but speaks to me of danger.

"Are you alright, Amelia? You're looking pale suddenly?" Atticus stands and walks quickly in front of me, taking one of my hands in his. His eyes stay focused on me as if my face will give him a summary of what ails me.

"It's been a long and emotional day so far," I say, noting that his concern for me seems genuine. Maybe I am being paranoid. Maybe Malachi in the woods was just trying to kidnap me and I let the frustration with Caspian make me an easy target.

Maybe I've always been an easy target?

"Maybe you should lay down for a bit?" Atticus suggests, and I nod in agreement, allowing him to help me to my feet and lead me away.

A part of me doesn't want to go back to my room. I don't want to be alone to sit and stare at the walls as my mind continues to overturn everything that has lead me here. I want a brief escape, something small only for a few hours, so I don't have to stay in reality.

"Do you mind if I take a book?" my hand gestures to the large bookcase. Atticus nods, gesturing for me to take a look.

I don't hesitate to step away, looking at all the titles that line the shelves. He's a reader of the classics, I note, and I'm not surprised to see a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird among other titles. Figures that he would own a copy of the book that his parents referenced his name with. I'm sure Caspian probably owns all the Chronicles of Narnia books.

Nothing really jumps out at me though, and I don't particularly want to read about a character the Alpha and his son are named after. Just when I'm about to reach up and grab a random spine without looking at the title or author - something jumps out at me.

Luna Benedictionem.

There is nothing distinguished about the book; black, leather-bound with gold lettering. But the word Luna is calling out to me like a beacon. Could this book hold answers I've been trying to get from Caspian all along? I stare at the words on the spine, wondering why, if there was a book, Caspian wouldn't give it to me to read in the first place rather than having us constantly argue about it?

Another red flag pops up as my eyes move over the title again and again. Confusion sweeps through me as I take in my options

Take the book or leave it?

Hope there are answers written within the pages or forget about it and be patient?

Trust Caspian or listen to Malachi?

If my mom were here, she would know what to do. She was always an excellent judge of character. Even with movies, she claimed to know who Luke Skywalkers' father was the entire time before the reveal. Of course, I could never know for sure if that was accurate, but she swore.

"Alpha," I turn to face him, just thinking of my mom had reminded me of something else I wanted to talk to Caspian about, "do you know if the wolves Caspian sent to get my bags have returned yet?"

Atticus laughs, but it's small, more uncomfortable rather than genuine. I watch as his eyes roam away from me for a brief minute before answering.

"You know, He must have been so busy with the ceremony he forgot to send someone," his words pushed me over the edge I had been teetering on. I can no longer deny curiosity. No longer write it off as something else or try to justify their actions. I deserve at least the truth.

I grab the book quickly, crossing my arms over it as I pull it tightly to my chest to hide it from view. i have no doubt that if Atticus knew what book I grabbed, he would take it from me.

"I'll talk to him and get someone sent as soon as possible," I don't bother answering with words, I just give a small smile and a nod as I walk past him out of the office.