Moonstruck

𝓼𝓲𝔁𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷 | Beneath the Mask

TW: homophobia and child abuse (at the beginning of this chapter)

Ellie stared at the neon numbers flashing across Mateo's vital signs monitor. She didn't understand much about medicine, but she knew this much: he had almost died. When they brought Mateo in, the staff had informed them that it was only due to Ellie's healing abilities that he had been able to survive the trip back from Lazuli.

Mateo would, of course, need to stay in the hospital until he sufficiently recovered. As it turned out, werewolves—even with their preternatural recovery abilities—needed professional medical care when severely wounded. Even with a Luna's help.

Ellie took a deep breath. Even if she couldn't fully heal Mateo on her own—whether it was because she hadn't yet fully come into her own as a Luna, or due to the inevitable limitations of even the most competent Luna's abilities—she was determined to help ease her friend's pain. Mateo was unconscious, face flushed and jaw clenched in his sleep from pain. Ellie spread her hands above his chest and searched within herself, trying to recall the same inner strength she had used to heal her mother that fateful night her powers had first manifested.

Come on, Aurelia. Come back to me.

The golden-skinned goddess stood smiling before Ellie. She held out a warm, beckoning hand and Ellie took it; she led her down a starlit lane of half-forgotten dreams and vivid memories. She let go of Ellie and faded back into light.

Ellie opened her eyes to find herself standing before a grand, imposing antebellum-style house. It was a bit after dawn, and at the house's front entrance stood a dark-haired girl, knocking and knocking and pleading at the door. Asking to be let in. Begging to be listened to. Luna, please. Please! Speaking into the silence—despite the silence—anyway.

Kiera.

Heart in her throat, Ellie drifted nearer. It was almost as if there was an invisible string between her and Kiera, pulling them together. Calling to her.

"I know what you want me to say," Kiera was saying. "You're waiting for me to take it back. You're hoping that I was just... just messing around, that I" —her voice broke— "that I didn't really like that girl. That I don't really like girls at all."

Evidently bracing herself, Kiera took a deep breath. She ran her fingers through her hair. It was obvious to Ellie that she had mentally rehearsed this conversation countless times—though no amount of rehearsal could hold a candle to the moment of truth. "I've always seen you as my mother, Luna; you taught me everything I know—among which is to always stay true to myself."

She was so young, yet so brave. If only this weren't a vision of a memory—if only Ellie could stand beside her and hold her hand. Squeeze it in reassurance.

"Well," Kiera finally gritted out, "here's the truth: I could never love a man, Luna. Not as other women do. I wish you could understand that."

The door swung open to reveal a tall, dark-skinned woman with regal air and imperious manner. Kiera stepped towards her with hesitant, halfhearted hope, only for Luna Zahra to stride forward and strike her in the mouth. Stunned, Kiera stumbled back, clutching her face in her hands.

"You are a slave to your desires," Zahra snapped, articulating each word like the echoing gavel of a death sentence. "It's unnatural and, frankly, depraved."

Kiera's head shot up. "Who I am is unnatural and depraved?"

"You'll bring shame to this pack, to me—you'll ruin everything I've ever worked for. How could you be so selfish after everything I've done for you?"

"Selfish?" Blood dribbled from Kiera's quivering bottom lip. "Haven't I always done everything you told me to?"

"You should've done better," Zahra said coldly.