His Silent Luna (Verity and Felicity) novel Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: DINNER AND CHIT CHAT

Verity’s POV

It had been an entire month since I first set foot in Shadowfang, yet I hadn’t crossed paths with King Cassian once. Nor had I seen Beta Kin, or any of the wolves, really—except for Caleb. That absence felt peculiar at first, almost unsettling. Then, slowly, I began to wonder if maybe I was the odd one out. Perhaps they were deliberately avoiding me, or maybe they had been told to keep their distance. I couldn’t say for sure.

Surprisingly, I didn’t mind the solitude when it came to the others. Not seeing Kin, in particular, felt more like a relief than a loss. Still, I wouldn’t be honest if I said Cassian never crossed my mind. Occasionally, his face would flash in my thoughts—the way his eyes had studied me when he first learned my name, whispering that it meant “truth.” His voice, rough and distant, sometimes echoed in my mind unbidden, stirring something I couldn’t quite place.

But then there was Caleb. Caleb was a constant presence in this quiet, unfamiliar world I now inhabited. He was my sole companion, the only one who spoke to me. He wasn’t overly warm or overly talkative, but he was there—steady and soft. Over time, I found myself growing comfortable in his company.

I had made real progress with my reading and writing. Now, I could read quite well and write full sentences without hesitating to search for letters or meanings. Caleb had promised that once I’d improved even more, he’d share stories of the kingdom’s history and traditions—things I’d never been told before. But that was for another day, not today.

Today, he said I deserved a break.

“You’ve done well, Verity,” he said, a rare, small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You can ask for anything you want today.”

I blinked at him, surprised by the offer.

He handed me the slate, and after a brief moment of hesitation, I wrote down:

Dinner and a chat?

When I lifted my eyes, Caleb’s eyebrows shot up, and a faint smirk played on his lips.

He studied me for a moment before teasing, “That’s it? No request for a ride through the kingdom or a whole cake to yourself?”

I shook my head, smiling softly.

“Alright,” he nodded. “Where do you want to eat?”

I tapped the slate again and underlined the words:

In my room is fine.

He didn’t argue.

That evening, the staff brought in two covered trays, presenting something far more elegant than the usual fare. I settled on the window bench with my plate, while Caleb pulled an armchair closer and eased into it as if this was a familiar ritual.

We ate quietly for a few minutes—not an uncomfortable silence, but a comfortable one. The food was warm and flavorful, the bread soft and the stew seasoned better than anything I’d ever tasted. I chewed thoughtfully, watching the flickering candlelight dance between us.

Then I picked up my writing slate once more and scribbled a simple question:

Do you have a mate?

Caleb nearly choked on his drink and shot me a startled look.

“Straight to the point, huh?” he chuckled.

I tilted my head and smiled, waiting for his answer.

“No. No mate,” he said with a soft laugh. “Not yet, anyway. Haven’t found her. Why do you ask?”

I shrugged, feeling a bit curious. You’re kind. I thought maybe someone would have claimed you by now.

He gave me a look I couldn’t quite read—something flickered in his eyes but vanished before I could grasp it.

“Thanks, I guess,” he said, clearing his throat. “Alright, my turn. What about you? Anyone special before…”

He trailed off, and I was grateful he didn’t press me to revisit the darker parts of my past. I wasn’t ready to share the rejection I’d faced, so I gave him a half-truth. Besides, Theron and I had never been anything significant.

I shook my head.

I was never allowed to talk to others. Except my sister, I was always alone.

He sighed softly, and I thought I saw a flicker of pity in his eyes—not the kind that belittles, but the kind that wishes things could have been different for someone.

I quickly changed the subject.

Why are you always so serious?

Caleb blinked, then laughed—a genuine, soft laugh that warmed the room.

“I’m not serious. I’m focused.”

I nodded quietly.

There was a pause in our conversation, and I realized I was enjoying this more than I expected. Talking—well, writing—about simple things, learning someone else’s story.

So I wrote another question.

Do you think I’ll ever be normal?

Caleb’s brows furrowed, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“What do you mean by normal?”

Not strange. Not broken. Just… a person.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached over and gently took the slate from my lap, setting it aside.

“Verity,” he said softly, “you’re not strange. And you’re not broken. You’ve survived hell and still carry light in your eyes. That’s not something to hide. It’s something to be proud of.”

My eyes stung, but I blinked back the tears. His voice had a way of steadying me, smoothing out the jagged edges inside.

He leaned back again. “Besides, you’re learning fast. Honestly, I think you’ll be teaching me a thing or two soon.”

I smiled warmly.

Thank you. For staying. For teaching me.

Caleb returned a small, genuine smile. “Anytime, Verity. You’re not just my student anymore. You’re my friend.”

That word—friend—echoed softly in my chest like a gentle heartbeat. I’d never truly had one before. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just smiled even wider.

We sat together in the soft glow of candlelight, finishing our meal in comfortable silence once more. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was more than I’d ever had before.

I felt… full.

And happy.