All Chapters of The Luna He Chose Was My Cousin : Chapter 11 - Chapter 15

He found me again the next morning.I had not slept much after the rogues, my arm bruised where the third one had wrenched it, my body still running on the leftover adrenaline that had not fully drained out of me. I was awake before five anyway, habit by now, and I was standing at the small stove in the apartment above the bakery, the one Marta had quietly offered me two weeks earlier when she noticed I was still living out of a motel and said, without making it sound like charity, that the space upstairs was sitting empty and rent was cheap if I wanted it.The knock came at seven exactly.I knew it was him before I opened the door. My wolf knew it the moment the knuckles touched wood, that same overwhelming scent rolling under the door like weather moving in, and she sat up straight inside me, alert and unbothered by fear for the first time in longer than I could remember.I opened the door with my hair still wild from sleep and my eyes already doing what they had learned to do with

Three weeks passed the way good weeks do, quickly and without enough warning that I should have been paying closer attention.I trained with Kael four evenings a week now, my body adjusting to the rhythm of it even as my belly grew heavier and my balance shifted further from anything I recognized as mine. My technique was improving, slowly, the way real things improve, not in leaps but in small corrected habits that stacked on top of each other until one evening I blocked a strike Kael threw at half speed and he actually paused, just for a second, before nodding once."Better," he said.From him, that was practically poetry.The bakery work continued every morning, Marta still asking nothing and offering everything in her quiet, no-nonsense way. The motel room had slowly filled with small signs of a life being built rather than simply survived. A second plant. A proper blanket. My mother's photograph moved from the nightstand to a small shelf where I could see her from the bed, from t

Kael did not leave that bed for a long time.He sat at the edge of it, careful, not touching, eyes flicking to the dark window every few seconds, the tension never fully leaving his shoulders even as the storm wore itself out past three in the morning. Neither of us said much. Lyra slept against my chest, small and impossibly heavy for something so light."You should sleep," he said eventually."You first.""I do not sleep when something I cannot identify has just circled a building with a newborn inside it."He stayed until grey light came through the curtain. Then he stood, checked the window one final time, and told me he would come back the next day. He did. And the day after that. Quiet visits, always checking the room first, and somewhere in those uneasy days I understood that whatever had circled outside that night had unsettled him more than he wanted to say.The weeks that followed blurred together.Nobody warns you about the first days with a newborn. Feeding every two hours