Shifting Moon Chapter 127 127: Two Views, One Stary Sky

(Leah POV)

The run back to our house was thick with silence, not from the world around us but in the bond itself. Grief weighed on every thought. No jokes from Jared. No sharp edges from Paul. Not even Jacob's usual steady reassurance could soften what waited for us at the end of the trees.

By the ti we broke the tree line, Jared had rejoined us, the last mber of the pack so far, pacing alongside him.

{"I circled back and grabbed Embry, thought he should be here for the pack."} Jared supplied.

Embry Call, the pack mind inford her, there was also sothing else surrounding everyone's thoughts about Embry, but I can't focus on that at the mont.

Seven wolves, moving as one, slowed at the edge of the yard. The lights inside the house glowed faintly, warm against the dark.

Through the window, I saw her. Mom. Standing in the kitchen, looking around like she had misplaced sothing. She looked smaller than I had ever seen her, the weight of loss pulling her shoulders down.

Seth whimpered low in his throat, his paws shifting nervously against the frozen grass. His thoughts flickered across the bond, hesitant but fierce. {"She's alone. She needs us."}

I froze where I was. The mory of her face in the kitchen slamd into —the wide, horrified eyes as I shifted for the first ti, the way she had gone pale before screaming Dad's na. The fear. The disbelief.

{"Not ,"} I softly thought, my chest tight. {She wouldn't want .} My gaze flicked toward Sam, {"No one does."}

I caught a flash of sha from Sam before he could bury it.

Seth's head jerked toward , his thoughts snapping sharp. {"Yes, she does. She's our mom."}

But before I could argue, before the sha could claw raw again, the back door creaked open.

Mom stepped out onto the porch. Her gaze swept across the yard, across the massive wolves staring back at her. For a long breath, the night held still.

Then her eyes landed on Seth.

"Baby…" Her voice cracked, soft and breaking, but certain. "That's you, isn't it?"

Seth froze, every line of his body trembling. Then he surged forward, paws pounding across the grass. He skidded to a stop a few feet from the steps she stood on, massive and shaking, his eyes locked on her face.

For a mont I thought she'd flinch. That she'd recoil the way she had before. But she didn't. She stepped down from the porch steps and walked straight to Seth. Her hands reached out and sank into his fur, clutching at him like she might never let go.

"My boy," she whispered, her tears soaking into his ruff. "My Seth."

Seth whimpered, pressed his head against her chest—and then his body shuddered, reshaped, until he was kneeling there in his human skin, bare and shivering in his grief. She pulled him into her arms, no hesitation at all. Just a mother holding her son.

The bond went quiet on his end. No more thoughts, no more voice. Just silence where Seth had been. The absence left a hole in , sharp and unexpected.

Mom's eyes lifted past him, searching the remaining group of wolves. They found where I lingered at the edge of the yard, still wolf, still frozen in place.

"Leah," she said, her voice breaking. "Please. Co here, sweetheart."

The pack pressed at —Jacob steady, Jared firm, even Sam's Alpha presence nudging—but all I could feel was the mory of Dad's face when he fell, the fear in Mom's eyes, the guilt that wrapped tighter every ti I breathed.

{"No,"} I whispered into the bond, stumbling back a step. {"I can't. Not now."}

"Leah," Mom tried again, reaching out one hand even as she held Seth with the other. "Please."

It was too much. Their voices, her eyes, the bond pressing in close. I wanted silence. I wanted distance. I wanted out.

I bolted.

Seth's voice shouted after , faint now, only carried by the air, not the bond: "Leah! Don't go!"

The pack surged, ready to follow, but Sam's command rolled across the link like thunder. {"Stand down. Let her go. Everyone... Shift back."}

And then, softer, directed only at : {"Find your footing, Leah. We'll be here when you're ready. We will give you as much ti as we can."}

The noise dimd as, one by one, the others phased back, their presence vanishing the bond, from my head. Quiet. Blessed quiet. For the first ti since this stated, my thoughts were mine alone.

The forest tore past in blurs of black trunks and silver moonlight, my paws eating the ground like I could outrun the weight in my chest. I didn't care where I was going—only away. Away from Mom's eyes, from Seth's pleas, from the bond pressing too close.

I just wanted quiet.

Branches whipped at my sides. Roots snatched at my paws. My lungs burned, my muscles scread, but I didn't stop until my body gave out. My paws skidded against stone, claws scraping rock. The exhaustion of the first shift and the long night finally catching up with .

I stood panting as I looked around. The clearing was familiar. The lone sowhat flat rock near the center told where I was, Thomas's rock. The clearing that Cullen girl told he liked to co to.

Sohow, blindly, my legs had brought here.

My body sagged against the stone, my sides heaving. The silence settled heavy and deep, broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing. For the first ti since everything shattered, the pack's voices were gone, the bond was quiet. It was just .

I lowered my head against the cold stone, the heat in my chest dimming to embers. I hated myself for it, but I cried—deep, shaking sobs that tore out of my wolf's throat and vanished into the night. For Dad. For Mom. For Seth. For myself.

And slowly, as the tears wrung dry, the fire inside shifted. Less rage, more ache. Less storm, more exhaustion.

The change ca without forcing it. My body shuddered, bones folding, fur retreating, until I was left on the forest floor, naked and trembling, but at least I wasn't cold... Just naked, in the forest, alone.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to hide from the night. From everything.

And then, a whisper of wind stirred the branches overhead. A soft rustle, unnatural in its direction, drew my gaze.

There—hanging in the trees, snagged where ti and weather hadn't claid it—was a pack. Worn, weather-stained.

I pushed myself up on unsteady legs and reached for it, heart thudding. Inside, folded neatly like soone had left them waiting, were clothes. Too big for . But sohow familiar, sohow warm.

Thomas's.

I slipped the shirt over my head, the fabric hanging loose, the hem brushing my thighs. It slled faintly of smoke and pine and sothing warm I couldn't na.

I curled back against the stone, clutching the fabric close, and for the first ti in years, I looked at the stars.

(Thomas POV)

The stars in Nepal were sharp and endless, scattered like ice across the black sky. I lay back on the roof of my grandmother's hut, arms folded behind my head, letting the cold bite into my skin. The air up here always carried a bite, but tonight it felt sharper.

For months I'd poured myself into training, into the struggle with my own blood, into trying to understand what I was becoming. The mountains had given silence, the village had given lessons, but neither had given what I needed most.

Not a place. People.

Two, in particular. Bella's stubborn warmth. Edythe's quiet yearning, her need to belong. Both waiting oceans away while I clawed at fragnts of control.

I let out a long breath, watching it vanish in a pale cloud against the stars. It was almost ti. My fire was steadier now. My forms obeyed more often than not, even if the half-shift still drained faster than it should. I wasn't finished, but I was close enough.

Close enough to start heading ho.

The thought burned, not with fear, but with longing. A pull stronger than clan politics, stronger than mountain silence. Ho wasn't here—it never had been. I'd known that when I arrived. But now I had the strength to leave, and I wouldn't look back.

I sat up, the decision solid in my chest. Tomorrow, I'd start packing. Just the things I ca with—and the three books my grandmother had written. The Tribe might want them. I'd say my goodbyes, even to the ones who didn't want to hear them. And then I'd leave. Take what I'd learned, and make the long road back to Forks.

Back to where my heart waited.

Now the only question was whether I stopped in Ithaca first—beat the piss out of Edward, and drag him back so Bella could make her choice—or whether I went straight to Forks and let her decide how to face him.

I should probably ask Edythe what she thought first. With that decision made I went inside to go to sleep.