Chapter 83: Restless

Chapter 83: Restless Kaya "Moonchild!" I spin on my heels at the sound of that familiar voice, and my lips immediately curve into a smile of relief. Samantha barrels toward me, still struggling to straighten out a fresh set of clothes, and the moment she reaches me, she practically leaps into my arms, locking me into a breath-stealing hug. "Ugh, Sam," I wheeze, her hold squeezing the air right out of my lungs. "I can’t breathe." "Oh! Sorry!" She immediately steps back, hands raised in apology, though her bright blue eyes stay glued to me, scanning every inch with visible concern. "Are you alright? How are your wounds?" Before I can answer, she grabs my hand and spins me around like a doll, her face contorting in sympathy as her gaze lands on the bruises and bandages still marking my arms and chest. I chuckle softly—there’s something comforting about someone fussing over you this way. "I’m okay, I promise," I reassure her, though the ache still lingers beneath my skin. "It’s amazing how quickly the body heals once your wolf is there to help." Her eyes go wide, practically glowing with excitement. "That’s right—you have your wolf now! Sunny’s been dying to meet her, but I got totally sidetracked the moment I saw your ghost-white face!" "Her name is Rana," I tell her with a small smile. "And she can’t wait to go on a hunt with you." "It’s going to be so much fun!" Sam claps her hands, practically vibrating with excitement. But then, just as quickly, her expression shifts—joy giving way to something colder, tighter around the edges. "It’s a happy thing," she says, her voice lowering, "but I’m still furious it took that bitch Gloria to push you over the edge." For a moment, my mind goes completely blank. I don’t know how to bring up Gloria—not now, not after everything—especially when Sam was part of her punishment. "Are you... disappointed in me?" I ask carefully, glancing up at her from beneath my lashes, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Disappointed?" She raises her brows in surprise. "Why would I be?" "Well..." I hesitate, fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve. "I lied to you. I said I didn’t know who drugged me. Then I provoked a fight, broke the rules... I made a mess. A dangerous one." Samantha is quiet for a long moment. Her gaze lingers on me, thoughtful and unreadable. Then, she lets out a long sigh and gives my shoulder a gentle pat. Without a word, she turns and begins to walk, motioning for me to fall in step beside her. "You should’ve told me about her," she says after a beat, her voice calm but honest as we stroll side by side down the hall of the pack house. "That part’s true." Then she pauses, flicking a sideways glance at me before continuing. "But... if I’m being completely honest?" She shrugs, lips curling into a faint smirk. "Aside from the injuries, I’m glad you finally sank your teeth into her. Gloria’s been walking around like a ticking time bomb for years. The Alpha only kept her around because she was strong and hadn’t technically broken any rules, but everyone knew what she was really like. She didn’t serve the pack—she just made people miserable." She scoffs, but the sound is edged with bitterness. "What about the others?" I ask gently as we reach the door to my room. My fingers hover over the handle, but I don’t open it. "Do they hate me for what I’ve done?" Sam clicks her tongue in mock disapproval and flicks me on the forehead, sending a sharp jolt through my skull like a rubber band snapping back at full force. "Tsk! What did I just say? Nobody liked that bitch—now that she’s gone, you’ll probably make more friends and forget all about me!" I chuckle at her exaggerated pout, and she barely manages to hold the act for more than a few seconds before breaking into a grin herself. "Go get some sleep," she says, giving my shoulder a playful shove as she pushes the door open. "We’ve got training in the morning, remember?" "Yes, ma’am," I reply with a salute, stepping into my room, unable to wipe the grin off my face. I feel ridiculous for smiling this much—but it’s the good kind of ridiculous. "See you tomorrow, Sam." "See ya, Moonchild!" *** Once again, I do my best—but tossing and turning seem to be the only things I’m capable of. Sleep feels like a distant concept, something I can no longer grasp, and it makes absolutely no sense. "I haven’t slept in two days! Why am I so restless?!" I groan aloud, kicking the blanket off in a quick, frustrated outburst. I half-expect Rana to offer some dry remark or soothing comment, but she’s eerily silent. Not a flicker of movement stirs within me. For a brief, unsettling moment, panic prickles through my chest—after all, it’s only been a day since we truly became one. But then, a cold ripple of annoyance flicks through me like a lash, and I know she’s still there. Just sleeping. "Great," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "At least one of us is getting some rest." I give myself another hour to try and drift off, but the effort is in vain. Defeated, I throw the covers aside and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. With a sigh, I slip into my training clothes, tie my hair up, and march outside, hoping a bit of strenuous exercise might finally exhaust my overactive mind. But the moment the cold night wind slaps my face, my senses sharpen instead of dulling. I feel more awake than ever. And then I feel it—like a thread tightening under my skin, like a phantom touch crawling across my back. My mate’s presence. It’s unmistakable, clinging to me like a cold, wet cobweb. "Magnus?" I murmur, heart quickening as my feet begin moving of their own accord, pulled by some invisible string. I don’t have to go far. There he is—right beside the storage shed that houses the pack’s supplies. Magnus stands shirtless in the moonlight, muscles taut and glistening with sweat as he raises an axe overhead. With a swift, powerful swing, he brings it down and splits a thick wooden log clean in two with a sharp, echoing crack. I freeze in place, though my entire body burns like it’s been set on fire. Rana is wide awake now, and her restless growling drowns out my thoughts. She claws at my chest, desperate to pounce on him—wild, instinctive, utterly unrestrained. Meanwhile, all I can do is stand there, paralyzed, staring at him in stunned silence. The sight of him leaves me breathless.