Hour of the Moon

Chapter 11: Transparency

Today marks the full moon," Elder Enola announced, voice proud and booming, wrinkles set deep into his red-brown face like riverbeds. Head elder. Nanye-hi's grandfather. Seventy-something with the vigor of a man half his age.

He wasn't tall, but he didn't need height; presence did the work. Most elders wore their hair long. Enola's buzz cut only sharpened the line of his heavy brows and bead-bright eyes.

We held council in the Chapel at the edge of town—a choice that always made my hackles rise. A chorus of shouts and wolf whistles rolled through the pews, and something in my chest cinched the way a snare cinches a limb. The elders—twelve of them—sat in a row behind the pulpit, backs straight, tradition breathing through their bones.

"We have announcements," Enola went on, basking in the pack's heat. "First: our Nanye-hi is betrothed to Waya. Their mating ceremony will proceed."

His gaze landed on us. Adoration for her. Gratitude for me I hadn't earned.

My palms went damp. I didn't deserve anyone's thanks.

Nanye-hi slid her fingers into mine, a soft squeeze. "Relax," she murmured, as her grandfather kept drumming the old drum.

"A new generation of leaders is rising," he said. "We must hold fast. Humans are dying. The veil thins. We stay sharp. We stay together. By year's end, we celebrate their union."

Year's end. Only months away. The words fell like stones into a well.

When the meeting released, Nani was alight with plans. I felt the guilt like a shadow pressed between my ribs.

"It's a relief," she breathed. "We finally have confirmation."

By the time we got home she'd changed from flannel and jeans into a glittering romper, legs lengthened by heeled boots.

"You're going out?" I asked. She usually split her nights between shifts at the hospital and her sister.

A shy grin. "There's a mixer at Moody Blues. New woman in town. I want her to feel welcome. She's beautiful—maybe I'll introduce her to Ahiga. What do you think?"

I went still. "New woman?"

"She was at The Howler earlier in the week. Works for the paper. California accent."

Her face bloomed behind my eyes before I could stop it. I forced her away.

"You like her," I said, trying for light, and failing.

Nani tugged on her boots and I swallowed at the way the outfit turned her into a line of sleek night. "You look beautiful. Need a date?"

"Nope." She cupped my chin, kissed me soft. "You need rest."

"Stay," I murmured. She laughed, playful, and tapped my shoulder.

"Stubborn," she said. "I'll be back."

The door shut behind her. I lay down meaning only to breathe, but sleep took me quick and heavy, like a hand over my mouth.

⸻

Keiran

Moody Blues was small but packed, a warm crush of bodies and low light. I arrived thirty minutes late, nerves dancing under my skin like static. If I was going to understand this town, this was the place to listen.

I'd gone bolder than usual—strapless black dress, leather jacket, heels. Dr. Kanoska—Nani—wasn't in sight, so I claimed an empty table and tried not to look like a woman waiting for a ghost.

"Waiting on someone?"

Ahiga stood over me in all black—dress shirt, slacks, polished shoes. His hair was pulled into a low bun; those smoky gray eyes found me and didn't flinch. He was handsome in the way a knife is handsome.