Chapter 7: Acting Luna

Saskia Rooke was sitting at the head of my kitchen table when I walked in.

I had gone there for my coat and my mother's bowl, which I'd taken from my father's cupboard years ago.

I had not expected to find a woman in my chair.

She was drinking tea from my blue cup.

She wore a cream cardigan I had never seen.

Her honey curls were pinned up on her head.

"Linnea," she said, warm as a bath. "Come in, you must be exhausted."

"This is my kitchen."

"It was." She smiled. "The elders were very clear."

"They named you acting Luna in my bedroom?"

"In the pack's name. For the pack's good."

"Funny. I thought the pack would want to meet the woman first."

She laughed softly and set down the cup.

Saskia was thirty, small and soft-voiced and always the first at a funeral with a casserole.

For two years she had sat at every council table, right at Torin's elbow.

She wore a silver moon-thread bracelet and turned it on her wrist when she wanted to look humble.

I'd thought of her as a pest.

I hadn't thought of her as a danger.

"I wanted to say something to you privately," she said. "I think you've been very brave."

"Have I?"

"To reject him like that, in front of everyone."

"It can't have been easy, with your health." She tilted her head.

"And your wolf is magnificent."

"I've never seen the like."

"Thank you."

"Truly. You should be proud."

My chest went tight.

It wasn't fear.

It was lower and older than fear, and it was in the roots of my teeth.

The woman across the table smelled like warm milk and lavender.

Keep reading free with an account. Start The Sickened Luna's Last Chance from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.