Page 68 of Moonlit Fate

Healing Salve—Specially Formulated to Heal Cursed Wounds.

Holy shit. This was exactly what we needed.

“Atticus, it’s perfect,” I said hopefully. It was as if someone, or something, knew of our plight and had prepared this very cure to stamp out the darkness that ate at my flesh.

Carefully, I unscrewed the lid. The potent scent of herbs assaulted my senses. I dipped my fingers into the creamy substance, the coolness a balm to my aching skin.

“Here, let me.” Atticus took the jar from my hand, his fingers brushing mine in a silent promise of tenderness.

He unwrapped the bandage, then gingerly applied the salve to the angry gash on my leg. Warmth trickled through me, not just from the magic in the salve, but from his sure and gentle touch that seemed to hold its own magic. The wound began to close, flesh knitting together and pain dissipating.

It soothed the fire both inside and out, and I looked at the other potions strewn on the counter before meeting Atticus’s eyes. “Who could have known we’d need this?”

“Someone is watching over us,” he said, his lip curling in the barest hint of a smile, one that spoke of disbelief tinged with hope. “An ally. Someone who knows more than we do.”

He was right. This wasn’t mere chance. An unseen force was guiding us, propelling us forward. The shack, this place of healing, was a sign that we were not alone in our fight.

As the last of the pain drained away, leaving only a faint echo of its memory, sweet relief washed over me. Without a word, I launched myself into Atticus’s arms.

“Atticus!” My exclamation was a laugh mixed with a sob that got lost in his warmth. His strong arms wrapped around me as I buried my face in the crook of his neck. “Thank you.” I trailed kisses along his jawline.

“Always.” His hands roamed my back as our bodies pressed together—a perfect fit. Our lips crashed together in a confluence of relief and longing.

I leaned against Atticus’s chest and marveled at the serendipity of it all. Goosebumps danced across my skin. The world seemed to bend and weave itself, offering salvation in our most desperate hour.

“Do you feel it?” I asked. “The way this place... it’s alive, connected to us, responding to our needs.”

“I do,” he said. “It’s as though the spirits are guiding us, molding events in our favor when we least expect it.”

We stood there for a second longer, wrapped in each other, before urgency nudged us forward. With tender care, Atticus helped me to my feet, and we began a thorough search of the space, eager to find any other miracles left behind by our unseen benefactor.

I moved with cautious steps, the lingering ache in my leg a reminder of my recent brush with death. As we scavenged through the room, my fingers brushed against vials filled with unknown substances, each item seeming both out of place and perfectly positioned for our arrival.

Then, nestled between two unassuming jars, I spotted a book that drew my attention as if by magnetic force.Legends of Lycanterra: The Eclipse Amulet and its Guardians.

I reached for it, the word “eclipse” leaping out at me. I tapped Atticus’s shoulder and held the book out to him.

He scanned the title. “Was this here before?” he asked, although we both knew the answer.

“No. It just appeared,” I said. “There’s a purpose behind this, a reason we’re meant to find it now.”

He nodded solemnly. “Then we must take it with us. Whatever knowledge it holds, it’s part of our journey. Part of whatever lies ahead.”

I flipped a few pages in and found a passage about an amulet. “This is seriously no coincidence.”

The amulet is an ancient artifact believed to have been created in the beginnings of the realm. It is imbued with the ability to amplify the magical abilities of its bearer, making it a coveted item for any who seek to wield great power. More importantly, the amulet has the unique ability to harness and manipulate the energy lines that flow beneath the land, those that are critical to maintaining the balance of magic within the world.

As I tucked the book securely under my arm, I felt a kinship with the generations of guardians who had come before me, those who had fought and bled for the mysteries contained in these pages. It was a lineage I was only beginning to understand, a legacy that was mine to uphold.

“Let’s go,” I said. “Whatever other answers we seek, they won’t be found standing still.”

Casting one last glance at the curious array of items on display, we stepped back into the forest, the shack receding behind us as though it had never existed.

Out in the sunlight filtering through the trees, I studied the book’s cover. “It looks just like the amulet in your den.”

He leaned closer and peered at the cover. “Yes, but this piece here is missing on mine.” He pointed to the top curve. “As if it was deliberately severed.”

“Or torn away in battle,” I said.

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