Page 181 of Moonlit Fate

Ilaric stepped forward, blocking my path. “The magic in that cellar did a number on you. Your pulse...” He trailed off and pursed his lips.

“Was weak, I know.” I shuffled past him.

Mia took hold of my arm, her touch gentle yet insistent. “You wouldn’t have lasted much longer in there. Atticus knows that. He’d want you to recover.”

“Recover?” I laughed bitterly. “There’s nothing to recover from if I lose him forever. I can still feel everything he doesn’t shield. Right now, he’s shielding nothing.”

I ignored my body’s plea for mercy. There was no room for weakness, not when every second counted against Atticus’s freedom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mia asked, but I didn’t glance back.

“I need to wash up,” I grunted as I moved forward, every joint aching.

“Your body needs rest,” Ilaric said, his tone brooking no argument.

“That won’t free Atticus,” I snapped.

“Let her go,” Mia said, briefly squeezing my shoulder. “She won’t find peace lying down.”

I shrugged off her hand, then shut the bathroom door behind me. It was just me now, and the soothing water of tub calling to me. I paced the space, stretching my muscles as I waited for the tub to fill. When the bathroom was hazy with steam, I sank into the hot water, letting the heat scald away the layers of helplessness that clung to my skin.

Atticus. Hold on.

Tears dripped down my face into the water as I scrubbed at my flesh, trying to erase the memories. I slid under the water, letting the water wash over my face and head as plans formed and reformed in my mind. Train harder, grow stronger. Research. Reclaim the pack lands. I envisioned myself moving through combat drills, my fists cutting the air, my legs sweeping the ground.

I had to figure out how Atticus’s bargain could be broken. There had to be a way.

My heart began to race. Panic clawed at my throat. Everything was closing in. The water felt too warm, the steam too thick. I surged up, gripping the edges of the tub. Water spilled over the sides, splashing onto the tile.

“Please,” I whispered to any god listening. “I can’t do this alone.”

For so long, loss and expectation had been piling up on me like stones, and now it seemed they would crush me. The pain was unbearable. Then something snapped.

No more.

I commanded myself to getthe fuckup, shaking my head fiercely. I couldn’t afford to be weak. Not when Atticus was suffering. Not when my people were waiting for me to lead them.

A fresh tide of guilt washed over me. This was my fault. I’d failed him, failed them all. But I would make it right.

I pushed myself up, water cascading off my back. I took a deep breath that felt like dragging iron through my lungs. The magic inside me vibrated again, ready to burst forth from my skin. I hadn’t felt it since I woke up.

Shaking off the last remnants of doubt, I stood tall. The time for fear and hesitation was over. Atticus was out there, and he needed me. My pack was out there, and they needed me.

The power within me grew restless, eager to be unleashed. My fingertips tingled with it, each buzz a call to action.

I toweled off and wrapped myself in a warm robe, then secured a towel around my wet hair. Cautiously, I opened the door, relieved to find my bedroom empty. I needed the peace to center myself, to quell the magic that was building.

Once I’d dressed, I allowed myself a moment to sit and evaluate my own situation. The ache in my muscles had almost faded, but my heart throbbed at Atticus’s absence. My only relief came from feeling his presence at the edge of my mind. It was faint, but it was better than the complete emptiness I’d felt in Caius’s prison.

I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t keep myself locked away in my room any longer. The training grounds called me. There, I could drown out his absence with sweat and focus.

I laced up my boots tight, the leather biting into my palms. Each loop, each knot, was a step toward something I could control. He wasn’t here, but I refused to be useless.

Rushing down the stairs, I nodded at those who greeted me by name but didn’t pause to make conversation. I dashed out the door, jogging along the familiar path to the old battlegrounds. The place was a mess, a stark reminder of what I’d done. Splintered trees, scorched earth. I let out a long breath and steadied myself. Today was about reining it in, mastering the magic. No more collateral damage.

I spread my feet, feeling the grit under my boots, the heat from the sun, the power pulsing at my fingertips. It was there, ready to be shaped, waiting for my command. And I would not let it consume me again. Not today. Not ever.

I took a deep breath and raised my arms. My fingers spread out, reaching for the unseen threads of the wind. Leaves rustled, dust swirled, and broken twigs lifted from the charred earth. They circled from the invisible force at my command. The debris clumped together, forming a mound. I wiped sweat from my forehead, a small smile playing on my lips. Progress.

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