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Waning Unity

Chapter Twenty-seven

On trembling paws, Fraser slowly began to back away from Lume. The she-wolf loomed over him with open and slavering jaws, poised to strike like a venomous rattlesnake. The flight instinct that guided Fraser’s every move was swelling up inside of him again, and his instinctual reaction to the situation was to run. Run far away, run in any direction that he could to get away from her. Get away from the danger.

But Lume wasn’t a danger. For the first time in his miserable life, his paws hardened like stones and kept him from fleeing. His mind was directing him to turn tail, demanding for him to leave the moon wolf for good and save himself from inevitable pain. Only this time, Fraser’s mind and heart refused to align. His desperate effort to stay alive, to maintain his pack’s home until they returned, was gone now that he knew they weren’t coming back. His fight or flight instinct was, for the first time, conflicted.

He wasn’t going to run from Lume. Not this time.

“Fraser,” a voice that he had learned to belong to Milkweed called out from somewhere behind him. He kept his dark eyes trained on Lume’s contorted and snarling face, staring intently into the white and angry voids that she held for eyes. The ethereal wolf had taken her focus off of him and now looked up at the ridge behind him, the place from which Milkweed’s as well as others’ scents rode in on the breeze. He didn’t hear their footsteps approach, and among the smells of the desert he could taste their faint fear.

Lume let out a rumbling growl, her eyes narrowing dangerously the longer she looked back to where the others would have been. Fraser swished his tail, recapturing her attention as he lifted his chin toward her. He worked to steady his own breathing, holding her piercing gaze as he tucked his fear away into a far corner of his mind. He wasn’t afraid of her, he told himself. He knew her, he told himself. She knew him, he told himself. “Lume,” he uttered finally.

The she-wolf’s attention lasered in on Fraser as he spoke, snarl growing louder as it throbbed within her throat, contorted claws digging into the dirt underfoot. “Fra-a-aser,” her unstable voice growled, tone pinched. Behind the sweltering rage that burned like starlight in her eyes, he could see an underlying trace of utmost fear. The real Lume, the one that made Fraser laugh and that pulled him from danger at any given moment, was still there. She was a prisoner in her own body, but despite her possessor’s deadly hold, she was still there. And she was desperate to protect Fraser.

But today it wasn’t Fraser who needed protecting. It was Lume.

With a long breath, Fraser lowered his haunches down into the sand and sat. He held the she-wolf’s burning gaze, kept still when her snarling thickened. This dark side of Lume, the one that was holding her prisoner inside herself, wanted a challenge. It wanted to chase him through the sands as he fled for his life. It wanted to beat him in a fight that he would never be able to win. It wanted to rip him apart, slowly, effortlessly, all while he was pleading to escape. But Fraser wasn’t a fighter and he never had been; at least now with physical strength and the use of teeth and claws. He was a fighter of words, of wit, of wisdom.

“I’m not leaving,” Fraser uttered defiantly, refusing to let himself flinch when Lume let loose a throaty growl, her slavering jaws dripping with saliva that dripped down onto his snout as she loomed over him. “I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

The ethereal wolf let out a guttural growl, eyes narrowing tensely as she stared at him with blazing eyes. “I’m staying here,” Fraser said with certainty as he faced down the large wolf, shoulders tense and chin lifted. “Just me and you. I’m staying here with you, Lume. Even if you kill me.”

- President Loki

(This feels like an appropriate “I’m with you ‘till the end of the line” moment)

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