The innocent girl, doesn't remember anything

Kieran, Lucas, and Garrick pulled their horses to a stop in front of Agnes' house. The place was quiet, save for the faint chirping of birds in the distance. Dismounting smoothly, Kieran handed the reins to one of the nearby guards and strode toward the entrance, his Beta and Gamma following closely behind.

The wooden door creaked slightly as they stepped inside. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and ointments, a sign of Agnes' healing work. Sitting by the fire was the girl, her bandaged arm resting on her lap. Her head tilted slightly as she listened to something Agnes was saying, a soft, warm smile gracing her lips.

For a moment, Kieran was caught off guard.

She didn't look like the bloody, broken girl he had carried in just yesterday. Now, she seemed almost ethereal. Long black hair cascaded down her back, framing delicate features. Green eyes—so vibrant they almost glowed—met his, and her pink lips curved gently, untouched by the pain she had suffered. Her skin, fragile and porcelain-like, seemed almost unreal under the dim glow of the firelight.

Agnes noticed his presence first. She rose swiftly, bowing her head in respect. "Alpha," she greeted.

The girl, however, only blinked, looking more surprised than afraid.

Kieran studied her for a moment before turning to Agnes. "What's her condition?"

Agnes sighed. "She doesn't remember anything, Alpha. Her past, her name—everything is gone."

Lucas and Garrick exchanged glances. Amnesia? That complicated things.

"But," Agnes continued, her voice softer now, "I suspect strong abuse in her past. She reacts badly when people get too close, and if anyone raises their hand, even without meaning harm, she flinches. The memories may be gone, but her body remembers. The scars she hides beneath that silverweave tell a story she cannot."

Kieran's gaze returned to the girl. There was no doubt in his mind that she was fragile—physically, at least. But there was something in her eyes, a quiet strength buried beneath all that fear.

He took a step forward, and as expected, she shrank back ever so slightly.

His voice was calm, yet firm. "What's your name?"

Silence. Wide green eyes stared up at him, lips parted slightly, but no answer came.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of Kieran's lips. "Since you don't remember your name, I'll give you one."

The girl remained motionless, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

"I found you at the edge of my territory," he continued. "That means, until you remember who you are, you belong to me."

Her lips parted slightly, and her voice, soft as a whispering breeze, reached his ears. "Belong to you… how?"

The way she spoke—gentle, like a melody—made Fenrir stir within him.

Accept her. Forget the true mate. Make her ours.

The wolf's sudden declaration struck Kieran like a lightning bolt. He inhaled sharply, momentarily thrown by the intensity of Fenrir's demand.

She was waiting for him to respond.

His next words came without hesitation. "Be my Luna."

The girl blinked. "Luna?"

Kieran nodded. "A Luna is the Alpha's mate. She is the leader of the Pack alongside him. She rules beside her Alpha, commands respect, and carries the Pack's future in her hands."

The girl tilted her head, brows knitting slightly. "Then… does that mean I am a wolf?"

Kieran paused. "No," he admitted. "You feel human."

Something flickered across her expression—something unreadable. But then, she simply nodded.

Satisfied, Kieran stepped back. "Agnes, take care of her. I'll return tonight to check on her. In the meantime, the maids will bring her something more fitting to wear."

Agnes bowed again. "Of course, Alpha."

"One more thing," Kieran added, his voice sharp now. "Make sure all her scars are gone by tomorrow morning. I'm taking her back to the Pack house this evening. She will be presented to my parents at sunrise."

A hint of hesitation crossed Agnes' face, but she nodded nonetheless.

With nothing more to say, Kieran turned on his heel and strode out, Lucas and Garrick following close behind.

The moment they reached the gate, Kieran slowed, grabbing the reins of his horse but not mounting just yet. Instead, he turned his head slightly, eyes dark with thought. "What do you think of her?"

Lucas ran a hand through his hair. "She's… delicate. Fragile, even." He let out a breath. "She doesn't look like someone who belongs in our world."

Garrick, ever blunt, scoffed. "A broken girl with no past, no memories, and scars hidden under silverweave? You want to make her our Luna?"

Kieran's grip on the reins tightened slightly. "It doesn't matter what she was. It only matters what she becomes."

Garrick fell silent, but Lucas hummed thoughtfully. "She's beautiful, though," he mused. "More so than I expected, given the state she was in yesterday."

Kieran didn't respond. He already knew that. He had seen it the moment he stepped into that room.

With a final glance back at the house, he pulled himself onto his horse, gripping the reins. "We ride back."

And with that, they disappeared into the night, leaving behind the fragile girl who, unknowingly, had just stepped into the heart of the storm.

••••••••

The girl turned to Agnes, her green eyes filled with quiet curiosity. Her voice, soft yet steady, carried a hint of something unspoken—uncertainty, perhaps, or the need for belonging.

"The Alpha didn't give me a name," she murmured.

Agnes studied her for a moment before offering a small, reassuring smile. "Then, for now, I will call you Luna."

"Luna…" The girl repeated the word, testing it on her tongue as though it were foreign to her.

She lowered her gaze, staring at her hands resting on her lap. "Agnes," she began hesitantly, "what does it mean to be… human?"

Agnes' expression softened at the question. Sitting down beside her, she reached for a damp cloth and gently dabbed at the girl's wrist, where faint bruises lingered.

"It depends," Agnes said after a moment. "Some are simply born without a wolf. The Moon Goddess may not have gifted them one, or… something might have happened to it."

"Something?"

Agnes exhaled slowly. "A wolf can die, sometimes before the person even shifts for the first time. Or… they can be cursed, stripped away by forces beyond our understanding." She hesitated before adding, "Or perhaps your wolf is simply asleep, waiting for the right moment to wake up."

The girl's fingers curled slightly, gripping the fabric of her dress. "So… I am broken?"

Agnes' heart clenched at the quiet pain laced in her words. "No, child," she said firmly. "Not broken. Just… lost."

The girl processed that in silence. Her green eyes flickered with emotions too deep to name, and yet she didn't seem afraid—only contemplative.

"Then, if I have no wolf," she murmured, "do I truly belong here?"

Agnes reached out, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "That is something only time will tell."

The girl didn't respond, but the way her fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress spoke volumes.