Page 146 of Moonlit Fate

Eldan tapped on an illustration of a moonlit ceremony. “Your father marked the page.”

“Rituals and ceremonies to strengthen bonds and magic,” I read out loud. “Could he have been trying to bring back what Malric destroyed?”

“Or prevent another betrayal,” Seren said.

After a while of paging through book after book, I pushed back from the desk. I paced the length of my father’s office, twisting my fingers together. Power coursed through me, wild and unpredictable. It was exhilarating, but terrifying at the same time.

“Stop pacing,” Eldan muttered from behind a mountain of books. “You’re making me dizzy.”

I halted, taking in the disorganization around me. Paper littered the floor, ancient texts lay open on every available flat surface. We were searching for anything that might give us an edge, any secret my father might have squirreled away.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, not really meaning it. A painting propped against the far wall caught my eyes. It was small, easy to miss among the clutter. I stepped closer, eyes narrowing as I studied it. The canvas was old, the colors muted with age. It depicted a baby swaddled in a blanket, silver hair already hinting at the lunar mark of our kind. My fingers traced the outline of the little face, recognition dawning slow and heavy.

“What did you find?”Eldan asked, craning his neck to look around the stack of books in front of him.

“It’s me,” I said. “Someone painted me when I was a baby.”

“It does look like you,” Eldan said. “Same stubborn chin.”

I couldn’t help the snort. “Yeah.”

“Keep it,” Eldan advised. “It’s part of your history.”

“Part of my cage, more like.” I set the painting aside. The room felt smaller suddenly as if the walls were closing in around me.

To distract myself, I resumed rummaging through the piles of books and artifacts. Eldan stayed close by and we worked side by side. One of the panels of the bookshelf was loose. I priedit open and reached inside. At first, it seemed to be empty, but then my hand caught on something.

“Got something?” Eldan asked.

“Maybe,” I murmured, tugging at the object. It resisted at first, then finally slid free. It was a journal bound in worn leather.

Seren got up and peered over my shoulder. “What is it?”

I ran my fingertips over the cover. The grooves and scratches told tales of a time long past. Carefully, I opened it to the first page, holding my breath as if the act might disturb the spirits resting within.

“Damn,” I said. “This is Thea’s journal.”

I settled into my father’s leather chair and turned the delicate pages. The words danced before my eyes, Thea’s elegant script painting stories I could only dream of. Her reign, her life, her magic, all laid bare across the yellowed pages. The room fell silent, the dust motes hanging suspended as though even they recognized the gravity of the moment.

“This is incredible,” I managed to say. Page after page revealed more of the world Thea had known, a world that felt so distant yet suddenly within reach.

“Her thoughts, her experiences, are all documented. It’s a window into the past.”

My gaze narrowed in on an illustration of the full moon celebration. Thea had captured every element—the bonfire leaping into the night sky, the pack laying woven garlands around it. The image was so vivid it seemed alive. I could almost hear their howls rising in harmony.

“Look at this,” I murmured, turning the journal around so Eldan could see. “They celebrated under every full moon. It was more than tradition; it united them.”

“It’s hard to believe something like this existed in our pack,” he replied.

I nodded and continued reading. Thea wrote of a meeting with a rival pack over a territorial dispute. Her words didn’t just recount the event; they showed her process, her diplomatic edge that turned enemies into allies. Then, a passage about forging a pact with the spirits of the land that made our territory sacred.

“Wow...” Seren said softly beside me. “She really spoke with the spirits?”

“More than spoke.” I traced the words on the page. “She listened to them, worked with them. They respected her.” My heart thrummed. Thea’s magic wasn’t just about power, it was connection.

Seren cocked her head. “You think we could do that now?”

“Maybe.” The idea ignited something within me. If Thea could do it, why not us? Why not me?

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