The man stroked his white beard, eyes crinkling with centuries of secrets, and placed a heavy, calloused hand on Maya’s trembling shoulder.
“My child,” he whispered softly, his voice as rough as gravel yet somehow calming, anchoring her when she felt like she was drowning.
But Maya couldn’t hold it anymore. Her emotions were raw, stripped naked, bleeding out of her as she collapsed into a chair, sobs tearing from her throat, ugly and loud. She wasn’t the composed Luna right now; she was a broken mate, desperate and shaking, tears pouring down her face, smearing onto her lips as she gasped for air.
She clutched her chest like it would stop her heart from breaking, her wolf howling inside her, scratching at her ribs, begging to be let out.
The Elder didn’t flinch at her mess. Instead, he
