Page 145 of Moonlit Fate

Rath looked reluctant, but a stern glance from the female spirit beside him had him sighing, a sound like the rustling of leaves.

“Our unity made us strong,” he said, and though he spoke softly, loss weighed down each word. “Once that was broken, control became the tool of those afraid of true power. Malric betrayed us.”

“Malric?” I asked.

“Thea’s son.” Lorian’s voice carried a trace of disdain as if the very act of speaking Malric’s name sullied the air. “Her own flesh and blood, yet devoid of her warmth.”

“Devoid and then some,” Rath added, his eyes dark with the memory. “He craved power more than anything, enough to kill his mother.”

I gasped. “He killed his own mother?”

“Sadly, yes.” Lorian stiffened. “To take the mantle of alpha before his time.”

“What did he do once he took over?”

“He controlled us,” Rath muttered. “Controlled the magic that united us and turned it into a weapon for himself.”

“He suppressed our gifts,” Elara, the healer, chimed in. “It was no longer about unity, but about power. Malric turned on those he deemed too powerful and attuned to the ancient ways. One by one, the gifted were silenced, their magic chained by fear and their alpha’s edict. The pack’s unity was shattered. In its place was a hierarchy where magic was a privilege only granted to those Malric favored, not a right inherited through blood and spirit.”

“Was his reign long?” I asked.

“Long and dark,” Lorian replied.

“His betrayal cast suspicion and fear upon those with magical gifts. No one can reach their true potential anymore. You’re all living half lives,” Rath said.

I thanked the three spirits for opening up about what must have been an incredibly difficult period in their lives. “I aim to eliminate the mistrust and show to the pack that individuals with these abilities are not anomalies, but rather the ones who will shape our future.”

Each spirit bowed respectfully. One by one, their ethereal forms winked out of existence.

“So, Malric didn’t just take the throne, he tore it from under us,” I said hollowly. “He tried to stamp out what made us special.”

“Power does strange things to wolves,” Eldan said, his arms laden with dusty books.

“Very strange,” I murmured, scanning the room. With the unearthly hum of the spirits now gone, it felt like we were in a crypt.

Eldan set the books on the desk, wiping away layers of time with his palm. “I found these hidden behind a false panel.”

“Hidden?” I leaned in closer, curiosity piqued. There were titles I recognized and others that seemed foreign, yet eerily familiar.

“Elemental magic, histories, theories about our realms,” he listed them off, flipping through pages with reverence. “Your father had quite the collection.”

“Why would he hide these?” I picked up a book, its cover etched with symbols that danced before me.

“Protection? Fear of them being destroyed?” Eldan suggested. “Or maybe he wanted to keep some secrets just that—secret.”

I sighed as I thumbed through the pages. “Secrets have a way of coming out. Especially in this pack.”

“Let’s hope these lead to something good,” Seren said. “For all of us.”

I flipped through another book, scanning the ancient script. “If he meant to protect us, why keep it from me?”

Eldan shrugged. “Maybe he planned to share this knowledge when you were ready.”

“Or he thought I’d never be ready.” I let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. “He always said knowledge could be a weapon or a shield.”

“Seems like he chose the shield for himself,” Eldan said.

“Then let’s see if we can find any weapons.” I pulled out a book, its spine cracked from age. The title readLycanterra: The Forgotten Era.

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