Page 27 of King of Moon and Claws

Bastian was furious. He had been correct in what he’d said to Elora the day before—the war wasn’t coming, it was here.

“We must make a statement,” Tavish said. “Our people must be warned to use caution. We can’t have any more innocent shifters die, My King."

Tavish was crossing the line as a servant and advisor, but he was right. As the Wolf King, the shifters weren’t simply just his people. They were every single member of his royal staff’s people too. Their families, their peers, their confidants.

Bastian held his hands up to Tavish and spoke with a sobering resonance.

“You’re right, I do have to make some kind of announcement. But first, I have to think about what I’m going to say. I have to be careful. I cannot paint all vampires with the same brush. That will only cause more panic."

Tavish nodded in agreement, and the king patted his shoulders in a comforting gesture.

“I promise you I will do what is best for the kingdom,” Bastian murmured. “I must go for a run and choose my words well.”

Tavish nodded, but his gaze was distant. The king could feel his pain as it was one that the entire community was coping with.

“Yes, you must, My King. I apologize.”

Bastian left the castle and snuck past the garden walls to begin his thoughtful run in the forest. As he stripped, it felt different. There was a pang in his chest thinking of Elora. He had shared the hallowed grounds with her, and her very essence had seeped into the cool earth, through the branches, and into the roots like a neural pathway.

Even as he shifted into his wolf form, bursting out of the captivity of his human skin, and began to gallop through the underbrush, he could feel her. Under his paws, sparking through the air. It was indelible, feeling her with every swift jump and padding through the dense forest grounds.

Bastian often went for runs to clear his mind, but it was already quite clear from the sex with his mate. The run he went for that day had a goal in mind – to meet with Iagan at his cabin and seek council on both the announcement and advice as to why the vampires were so eager.

He got to the shaman’s private cabin, hidden deep in the woods. The day wasn’t as sunny as the day before. A gray bleakness cast itself over the kingdom. Iagan’s home was decorated with wind chimes and esoteric trinkets, depictions of crescent and full moons weaved onto tapestries of blankets that hung over his front porch.

Bastian rarely ventured out to Iagan’s home turf. He mused as he shifted into his human form, clothing himself with a tunic he’d packed on his back.

They had to discuss matters without the influence of watchful eyes. If he called the shaman to meet with him at the castle, the staff would have noticed.

And with Elora deep in his bones, he had even more reason to be wary.

He knocked on the shaman’s door, a chill in the air. Iagan shuffled from his chair and greeted him, a pipe bouncing between his lips as he spoke.

“My, my, what brings about a visit from my king?”

Bastian was quick to alter the mood of the occasion by relaying the information about the latest attack. Iagan went somber and stepped aside to let him in.

A fire raged as he went inside. The cabin was small and packed with books that towered up to the ceiling. Scrolls that had yellowed at the ends sat rolled up in unorganized patches around the home, with light dustings of tobacco adorning every surface the eye could see. Bastian wasn’t one to judge, but he did wonder if the external was a reflection of the shaman’s internal mind space.

If that were the case, he was masterful at concealing it.

“Tell me what has happened, My Dear King."

Iagan made Earl Grey tea with a hint of pine from the surrounding woods. Bastian informed the shaman that Elora did not abide by his advice to avoid training, inspired by the attempted kidnapping in town. He told her about the witch ambassador’s revelation that Elora was powerful beyond measure.

Iagan sat with his tea, listening intently. He took a few moments to mull around Bastian's words, bringing two fingers to his chin and stroking it thoughtfully.

Bastian felt more impatient than usual, so he leaned forward, holding the saucer and mug in one hand.

“I had time to think on my run here, and I want to seek your counsel on one question in particular. Why would the vampires attack now? Why are they being so aggressive so suddenly?"

The shaman tapped two fingers against his thin lips.

“May I suggest to you, My King, that your Elora may have been the catalyst in this situation? The vampire lord’s awareness of her abilities may have inspired him to seek her out, and thus, begin an assault on the wolves."

Bastian pondered.

“That could be the case. But how would Vasilis know about Elora? She was living in a human town when she was taken. And we both know that vampires can’t detect witches. Especially Elora, as her powers have been drastically overlooked.”

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