Page 58 of Moonlit Fate

His arm brushed against me as he leaned closer and pointed to a faded illustration. “This symbol here keeps cropping up.” He traced the intricate design. “Seems important.”

“Symbols, prophecies, rituals...” I sighed. “Could this get any more cryptic?”

Atticus chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Wouldn’t be much of a prophecy if it were straightforward.”

“True.” But we needed answers, and every second mattered.

His hand covered mine, steadying it as we turned another page. “We’ll figure this out. We have to.”

“Of course we will. Because nothing screams romantic more than saving the world with dusty old books.”

“Romantic? You think this is romantic?” His eyebrow arched in mock surprise.

“Absolutely,” I said. “Rituals, impending doom, clandestine meetings in hidden shacks... it’s a fairy tale.”

“Minus the happily-ever-after part,” he said with a wry grin.

“Let’s not jinx it.” I winked at him before returning my attention to the book in my lap. “Okay, let’s focus. This section talks about the alignment of celestial bodies. That has to tie into the timing of the ritual.”

“Timing is everything.” Atticus thumbed through another volume. “Here, this passage speaks of a chosen pair bound by destiny.”

I leaned closer, our shoulders touching, sharing the comfort of solidarity. “But this chosen-pair stuff, it means we can’t do this separately or with just anyone. It has to be us, together.”

“Us,” he echoed.

I nudged him with my elbow. “Scary thought, huh?”

“Terrifying,” he said. “But better with you than anyone else.”

“Good answer.” I grinned, affection rushing through me. “Now, let’s dig a little deeper into this chosen-pair shit and see what other joys destiny has in store for us.”

Dust motes danced in the slanting light as our heads almost touched.

“Look at this,” he said, looking at the illustration that depicted some celestial ballet. “It talks about the ritual aligning with a celestial event. It’s not just any eclipse. It’s a rare lunar phenomenon that happens once in several generations.”

I let out a derisive chuckle. “Well, that’s something we can cross off the list. We know when the eclipse is—only five more days. The pack has been talking about it for almost as long as I can remember. They’ve got all sorts of celebrations planned.” Not to mention that was the biggest reason why my father had chosennowfor me to mate. He hoped the eclipse would bless my union with Larkin.

“Does it say anything about what happens during the ritual?” I asked, my curiosity piqued as I tried to decipher the symbols surrounding the text.

“Sort of.” Atticus grimaced as he scanned the passage. “It mentions a ‘convergence of energies’ that can either mend or fracture the balance of nature. The ritual is a key to maintaining harmony.”

I exhaled slowly, a soundless whistle escaping me as I processed the information. So, our actions during the ritual could actually change the course of nature? How freaking enormous. No pressure, right?

“Yes, and there’s more,” he continued. “It says here that the participants must be ‘of pure intent and bound by a trueconnection.’ It’s not just about performing the ritual, but what we are to each other.”

I blinked, the gears in my head turning. The light filtering through the small doorway highlighted the earnestness on Atticus’s face. The universe itself was conspiring to intertwine our destinies even tighter.

“That means our feelings, they’re not just happenstance. They’re a part of all this,” I said. As many times as this was laid out in front of me, the reality was a slap to the face. Atticus and me. An incredulous laugh erupted from me, but it faded as quickly as it came. “Fate has a sense of humor,” I remarked, shaking my head in disbelief.

Atticus’s fingers paused over a particularly dense paragraph as he sought meaning in the cryptic text. “Are you grasping all this?” he asked, glancing up at me. “The ritual, the ingredients for the triskele?”

I shrugged, a bit of inadequacy creeping into my chest. “Sort of,” I said. “It’s like trying to read the clouds. Every time I think I see the shape, it shifts.”

Atticus reached out, his hand covering mine, halting its restless movement. “Hey, you’re not alone in this,” he said. “Remember what the seer told us? The right knowledge will come when it’s time.” He motioned to the books. “This isn’t just your burden.”

I allowed myself a small nod. “Yeah, I get it. It’s just overwhelming.” A nervous laugh escaped me, the sound brittle in the quiet room. “Overwhelming is an understatement, but you’re right. We’ve been getting what we need piece by piece. I just wish it was clearer. We have six days until the moon’s eclipse.” I looked at Atticus, who stared back with a raised brow. “Okay, well, we have five days left, right?”

“Right.” Atticus chuckled. “And remember, Mia might know something about the herbs we need. She’s got a knack forhealing, and probably a green thumb that can make anything grow.”

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