Page 198 of Moonlit Fate

“Let’s get you back to the manor,” he suggested, gesturing with a nod.

We walked side by side, his steps matching mine. The air felt lighter, making it easier to breathe.

“The elders made a mistake,” Eldan said firmly. “We won’t let this decision stand. We’ll fix it.”

I glanced at him, the determination on his face taking me by surprise. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he assured me. “You’re meant to lead, and I’m with you. We’ll set this right.”

His words bolstered me, filled me with a renewed sense of purpose. With Eldan by my side, maybe I could face whatever came next. Maybe, just maybe, we’d turn the tide.

I made my way into the manor unhindered and walked up the stairs to my room. The door creaked as I nudged it open, and the familiar sight of Seren gave me a flash of respite. Lorian, with his ghostly glow, was floating by a desk, surrounded by books that smelled of dust and time. Thea’s journal lay among them. Seren looked up at me with eyes ringed with dark smudges, her face drawn tight.

“Miss Aria, do you need anything?” Lorian asked as he drifted closer. “Miss Seren has been up all night researching ways to help you.”

“I’m good, Lorian. Just happy to see you both,” I said, brushing away the tear that betrayed my relief. It felt good to be among friends, especially now.

Seren stood and stepped forward, enveloping me in a warm embrace that somehow managed to push back the chill of dreadthat had taken up residence in my bones. “I’m so sorry. None of this should be happening. What can I do to help?”

I leaned into the hug for a bit longer before stepping back. “We can’t change what is, only what’s next. Seren, if you are happy to keep helping with research, we have to find a way to release Atticus from the constraints of his father’s oath. I want to read Thea’s journal, learn everything I can about the old magic in Lycanterra. When the ritual went wrong, it’s caused an imbalance that I have to set it right or we’ll never know peace.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

I sat down at the table. Books and papers soon covered every surface of the room as we settled into our research. Lorian darted from shelf to shelf, gathering more texts that might hold the answers we sought.

Thea’s journal lay open between us, its pages filled with an elegant script that spoke of ancient powers and hidden knowledge. I delicately traced her words with the tips of my fingers, the connection with my ancestors deepening with every page I read. Energy thrummed as if the words were whispering to me, giving me hope that maybe, just maybe, we could turn the tide in our favor.

“I think I have something, but I need to decipher these symbols,” Seren blurted, pointing at the page she was reading. “There was a book, but it’s not here.”

“Where is it?” I asked, my pulse speeding up at the possibility of finding another piece to the puzzle.

“Your father’s office,” Seren replied. “We were using it last week. I think we might’ve left it there. It’s the only one bound in green leather.”

“Allow me, Miss Seren,” Lorian asked while arranging books on the shelves.

“No, Lorian, it’s fine. I’ll get it.” I stood up quickly, the chair scraping against the wooden floor. “I need to stretch my legs, anyway.”

Leaving my room, I hurried down the hallway. The door to the office groaned on its hinges as I stepped inside, and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, caught in the narrow beams of light that managed to breach the gloom. Everything was as it had been, yet now each item felt like a fragment of history—my history. As I moved past the desk, my fingers brushed over the wood worn from years of use.

I wasn’t here for nostalgia, though. The book Seren needed was somewhere on these shelves. We needed it to unravel secrets that could give us an edge against Caius and possibly free Atticus from his clutches.

As I scanned the shelves, the floorboards creaked behind me, announcing the arrival of someone else. His distinct scent filled the air, accompanied by the unmistakable disdain in his voice. I didn’t need to turn to recognize Miren.

“Looking for something in my new office?”

I resisted the urge to engage as the atmosphere shifted, the tension in the room ratcheting up with his presence. “A book,” I said, keeping my tone even, not bothering to hide my intent or dress it up in pleasantries.

Miren prowled the office, his fingers brushing against the objects, solidifying his claim over the space with each deliberate step. He paused by the desk, picking up a small carved wolf and examining it with mock interest.

“This is my office now. You have no business here,” he said haughtily.

I felt the jab, the dismissal. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it wound me. He set down the carving witha clink and turned toward me, finally looking at me. In that moment, I saw the full extent of his contempt.

“The pack is better off now,” he boasted. “You were always too young. Too inexperienced.”

His words were meant to cut deep, to remind me of my supposed inadequacies. I kept my face impassive, refusing to let him see any cracks in my armor.

“You were always a figurehead, really. Nothing more than your father’s puppet. You should have been mated with Larkin.” He sneered. “Your father was far too lenient with you and the pack. It’s time they were led by someone with a firmer hand.”

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