Page 166 of Moonlit Fate

I exhaled, a silent admission of defeat, and nodded.

“Okay, you know where I am if you need me.” I sighed. “I need to return to the Silver Claw lands,” I said, my voice smaller than I intended. “I caused a lot of destruction, and it’s time I faced it.”

Mia patted my shoulder. “You’re doing what’s right. That takes courage.”

Lyza leaned back, arms crossed, but her eyes softened. “Yeah, well, it’s about time things got put back how they should be.” She glanced briefly at Atticus. “We’ve got your back. In more than one way.”

Their words and support were like a salve to the raw wounds of guilt that had festered within me. I nodded, grateful for their understanding, for their outsider’s insight that shed new light on the path I had to walk.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “I’ll make things right. Whatever it takes.”

Atticus grabbed his jacket, the leather creaking as he moved. “I’ll be back soon,” he said, giving me a brief glance before heading out the door.

“How is he, really?” I whispered.

Mia poured another cup of coffee. “He missed you,” she said, handing me a steaming mug. “Every night, staring at the moon as if he could find answers there.”

“His nightmares got worse,” Lyza added, pushing a plate of toast toward me. “Kept waking up in cold sweats. We did what we could, but...” She shrugged, her face tight.

A lump formed in my throat. Devastation washed over me, guilt twisting in my gut.

“I never wanted to hurt him,” I said, clutching the warm mug for comfort.

“None of us ever do,” Mia said.

Lyza cleared her throat, shifting uneasily on her stool.

“Lyza, I need you to know how much Atticus means to me.”

She said nothing, just stared me down.

“I’m dealing with so much right now,” I said, my voice thick with emotion, “and I know I’ve made mistakes. Huge ones. But I’m working to fix them—for him, for everyone.”

“Actions speak louder than words,” Lyza said flatly.

“I understand if you can’t forgive me, but I needed to clear the air.”

Lyza shifted her weight, the leather of the stool creaking under her. She looked down at her hands before meeting my gaze again.

“Look,” she started, “I won’t pretend to understand everything you’ve been through or all your reasons for the choices you’ve made. But I see what you’re doing now, trying to make things right.”

She paused, clearly choosing her words carefully.

“Atticus is family to me. You hurt him, and that’s not easy to forget.” Her eyes narrowed for a moment, then softened. “But I also see how much you care and how hard this is for you. So, yeah, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. For Atticus’s sake. Sorry is as sorry does. Just don’t let us down. Don’t lethimdown.”

“Thank you,” I said with a small sense of relief. “I won’t. I can’t.”

“Good.” She nodded. “Now go on, do what you need to do.”

I stood up, my legs stiff from the tension. “I will. And... thank you.”

“Sure,” she replied, almost smiling, but not quite.

With that, I left. The road I had to walk was paved with intentions I needed to turn into actions.

Ten minutes later, a sliver of morning sunlight pierced the clouds and caressed my skin as I made my way to the manor. The world felt different in that light, softer somehow, despite the insanity that had become my norm. As I walked, I went over the lessons in mental shielding that Atticus had drilled into me.

I stopped and closed my eyes for a moment, letting the serenity settle. Exhaling slowly, I pictured those invisible barriers I was learning to construct around my mind. It was like flexing a muscle I never knew I had, but each time it responded more readily, shaping itself to my command.

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