Chapter 4Bread And Rain

• [XENA]
• Kasumi, waiting near the doorway, clears her throat softly, reminding me of the tray she’s holding.
• Every time I come here, I bring offerings: bread, milk, spare cloth, and trinkets, which may be sold to procure some money. The temple is a sanctuary to those the world casts out—humans, exiles, omegas stripped of their packs.
• I pick up a piece of bread wrapped in cloth.
• One by one, I offer the bread to the worshippers along the wall—old women, shivering men, children too small to know what hunger means yet. I’d house these children in the Alpha’s keep, but Cassian hates humans—no matter how small or helpless. The recent wars haven’t made the situation any better for them.
• I never toss the food; there’s dignity in handing it over—in seeing their eyes meet mine in gratitude, and knowing I did something right.
• At last, I reach the figure in the corner. The man hasn’t moved, only lowered his head further beneath the hood.
• There’s one piece of bread left. “Here,” I say softly, extending it toward him.
• For a moment, nothing happens. Then a hand emerges from the robe—large, calloused, with a wolf’s head inked across the wrist. The sight startles me. I fumble the bread; it slips and hits the floor.
• “Forgive me,” I murmur, stooping to pick it up.
• When I lift my head, I catch a glimpse beneath the hood—a mouth set in a hard line, a sharp jaw, the glint of eyes too pale to belong to any common wolf. Then he turns away.
• He takes the bread quickly, as if the moment meant nothing.
• But I stand frozen, my pulse uneven, feeling a strange tug I can’t explain—a sort of recognition where there shouldn’t be any.
• It’s an extremely handsome face.
• Although that man looks haggard, it can't hide his striking good looks. He’s even more handsome than Cassian, who is generally considered a heartthrob by the whole Pack.
• “Luna?” Kasumi calls gently from behind.
• I blink, straighten, and force a small smile. “Come. Let’s go.”
• As we move toward the entrance, Kasumi whispers, “He could be a changeling, Luna. You shouldn’t meet their eyes. They’re dangerous.”
• I nod absently, but my thoughts are already tangled in the image of the stranger’s inked wrist and the bizarre pull I felt in my heart.
• Who is he after all? And why is he here?
• At the doorway, I slip on my sandals. The first crack of lightning splits the sky, bright and jagged. A heartbeat later, rain pours down in sheets.
• “Quickly,” Kasumi says, pulling her cloak tighter.
• I pull up my hood. We’re about to step into the downpour when I spot an old woman near the temple stairs, hunched and trembling, already soaked to the bone.
• “Wait,” I say. I run to her, kneeling beside her. The rain chills my skin instantly. “You’ll fall ill. Come inside, Grandmother. The temple will shelter you from the rain.”
• The woman doesn’t move. Her face is a map of wrinkles, her gaze distant.
• “I have nothing left to give you,” I say softly. “I’m sorry.” I glance back toward the idol, its candlelight flickering through the storm. Then I sigh. “Well… perhaps I do.”
• Unclasping the golden pins at my shoulders, I slip off my ceremonial cloak—the one Cassian draped around me at our wedding, threaded with gold and moon-woven silk—and drape it around the woman’s frail frame.
• I still remember how surprised I was when Cassian gave me this cloak. At that moment, I sincerely thought I had found the truest love.
• I’ve always regarded this cloak as a symbol of Cassian's love for me. So I cherished it so much that I only dared to wear it at the pack's grandest parties.
• But now...
• I sigh. “It’s useless to me now, but you can sell it and live well for at least a few months.”
• The old woman looks up, her face illuminated at the strike of lightning. “Bless you, child,” she rasps.
• In that instant, I see he clearly.
• Although she is aging, her demeanor is extremely noble and elegant. To be honest, she doesn't resemble a beggar; rather, she looks like an elderly lady from a noble family.
• This inexplicably reminds me of the mysterious man I just saw.
• I feel a litle strange, but I doesn't ask anything. I’m just too exhausted—uncovering my mate's scheme has put too much pressure on me.
• I smile faintly, rise, and turn away before I can think too much about it.
• After I left, a tall figure slowly emerges from the rain curtain.
• It’s the man from the temple. He walks up to the old woman, bending down to shield her from the rain.
• The old woman lifts her head with a smile. She touches the cloak and says happily to him.
• "Knox, I finally find the perfect wife for you!"