The moon hart witch

Chapter 4

claimed by the alphas heir.

I shoved pass my aunt  before she could stop me as I made my way back to the estate  to get keal,the estate smelled of spilled wine and expensive cologne but beneath it lay danger , in a sharp ,immediate and frightening way . And there stood selera as a statue awaiting her cub in the lost moonlight . When she blocked me , I should have read the threat in her eyes and turned back , but instead something hot and stupid rose in me and I moved forward .

“You will not speak to him” selara said softly, but instead of making the words less threatening the softness added made it sound poisonous . “You've done enough”.

“Let me pass” I said to her, my voice failing to carry the strength it should ,my lungs were coiled inside me , my wolf pacing without rest .

 “You think what you did was noble” ? She continued , “you think you can just come here and undo a life time worth plan with a look and a whisper “? You broke my future witch and I will make you pay for that .

Immediately guards could be seen coming closer to the scene as if signaled by the wind almost immediately , was too busy noticing the guards coming closer and didn't notice she was holding a kitchen knife already and was coming closer to me ,not until aunt mira shouted my name , she tried stabbing me but failed as I quickly dotched , she drew out her claws but there were of no use as she has been used to soft living and no trace of defence could be seen or expected of her .

She immediately signaled to tge guards to get us both , two men who smelled of wet leather and the outside world, came over T moving with the efficiency of people who had practiced restraint and brutality in equal measure.

Aunt mira run , I said to her

She shoved me before she obeyed. Her shawl snagged on a servant’s shoulder; she tore free as a hand closed on my wrist.

One of the guard Hands closed on my arms, iron-cold and rough where Kael’s had been warm. I tried to  jerk free , but the guards had me in a grip that have started bringing  bruises to my arms . And I could see Selara’s lips curved in satisfaction.

You will come with us,” one of them said. He had Marcus’s lean face but cleaner, his voice clipped with the duty of someone who had learned to follow commands without question.

“No!” I pulled, the panic rising through me. “Kael—Kael—”

They ignored me. Someone had already gone to fetch Marcus ,  no one moved faster than vengeance.

Aunt Mira hit the man in the ribs with everything she had , her shawl became a whip around his head. He staggered, cursing, and for a breath I felt the possibility of escape. Aunt Mira shoved me once more, and I lunged for the garden gate. Freedom, air or Kael’s eyes but then almost immediately a hand closed over my hair and something sent a hot flare of pain through my skull.

“Stop!” I cried. The world slanted and spinned abit , Someone’s knee drove into my back. I tasted copper and felt the world bleed sideways.

Selara watched, unmoved, with a grin on her face .  “Give them to Marcus,” she said. “I want them dealt with quietly.” I would have dwelt them myself but I don't want keal finding out about this .

The guards obeyed. They bundled me into a carriage like an animal and slammed the door shut. I slammed my palms against the wood until the echoes came back to me. Through the slit of the carriage I saw Aunt Mira’s face as the estate receded, her lips moving in a sound I could not hear. She pressed a single finger to her lips, a motion that felt like both a plea and an apology.

When the carriage bumped away, my wolf howled from inside my bones. The mate bond between Kael and me flared hot and raw at the edges, an ache like hunger. I wanted to tear the world open and crawl to him. I wanted to explain, to demand, to plead. But the wood of the carriage boxed me in and the reality of being chained to my smallness fell over me again.

Keals pov

I have been pacing around the room.since I left my fathers study , the word piecing hard like iron filling at the back of my throat. He would send marcus soon and make me the do the unthinkable and I will be left to choose . The throne had been in my view since childhood have literally been training my whole life for it , duty had been a second skin . The mate bond had been the first thing that had ripped it off , and now the rawness underneath made my skin crawl and prickle harshly .

Immediately a guard burst into the room , one have dismissed as a polite shadow mere hours before , he bowed but with shavy hands as he spoke . “my lord there has been a disturbance , selera ….ehh I mean lady selera request the moon hart girl and a woman who claims kinship be removed . They've been taken”.

My chest stilled and mouth vecame dry with words .  Wha.. what !! “Taken where ?” I asked as if his answer would make the word less jagged .

To the northwatch man hold , my lord Marcus insisted on doing it privately , he says it will avoid scandal.

My world collapsed immediately I heard taken, private , scandal , andbecause I knew the watchman hold .

A place for lesser criminals and for things you wanted to make sure , doesn't see the light of day , if Marcus had offered himself at the task then rituals of cruelty is  going to be involved . And there would be time for fear and bargaining before the end .

“No” I said out as I ace for the door .

“You're not going anywhere” salera said “,Your father has made the decision .

“not yet I said , he gave me till sun-set.

“He has no choice when its about tge pack, she took a step closer , stretching out her hand to hold me, allow him to take care of it keal. Be the son he expects . The alliance you.

The alliance.

A cold fury rose under my skin, so sharp I could almost taste it. This wasn’t about politics anymore; it was about killing a woman who had done nothing wrong. It was about a man who had tricked and murdered for the consolidation of power. And you're talking about an alliance?

“You started all this selera ,” I said. “Make no mistake, Selara—if anything happens to her, you will pay the  price .”

Her smile was small, like a drawn knife. “You will obey your father.” she said.

I did not wait. I moved like a storm through the estate, every guard’s head turning as I crossed the courtyard. The carriage tracks still obvious in the moonlight; showing someone had left in haste. I could smell horses, dust, the wet earth of the road. Fury made my legs long and everything else fade.

We rode fast, two riders and a horse breed that cried for the wild. My mind had only one path:and that was to find her. I felt the bond pulsing like a beacon through the dark. It led me like an animal scent. The hunters ahead tried to set a pace; the riders behind followed. I had one thought and one only: get to Lyria before Marcus did something irreversible.

The North Watchman’s Hold could be seen from afar on  the road,its  half prison and half old wolf-keep. Its towers were squat; its gates were made of iron. Marcus’s men were posted like a net around the walls, faces alight with the perverse thrill of a job done for more than wages.

“You have no right,” I growled. “Open the gate.” They did not move at all their  Hands tightened on the reins. Then the nearest guard laughed, sounding  like a pack of crows.

So Draven you think your wolves and your boys can walk in and change the world?” he said. “Marcus said keep them in. High treatie and all…we’re just the hands.”

My hand found touched  my blade. The guard’s laugh died when I drew my steel. The blade in my hand was not just metal; it was a promise. A promise I intended to keep.

I did not ask permission. I broke rank, cut through the outer guard, and by the time the angry calls began, I was inside the courtyard. Marcus stood beneath the archway, hands folded, his gaze as dull as old iron.

“Kael,” he said like a greeting, as tho he was expecting me  “You’re early.”

“You should know better than that,” I said. “Hand them to me. Now.”

He smirked. “You know how this works keal, heir, Votes, precedent.”

“I don’t give a damn for precedent,” I snapped. “They belong to me.”

He closed his eyes like he tasted salt. “They've been judged.”

“You judged them?” I said through my teeth. For a second I saw red, a color that carried with it every insult, every shove, every time the pack had turned away. “You’ll answer to me for this, Marcus.”

“You’re in no place to get  answer for anything,” he said, but there was a tremor in his voice. “Sit your pride down. You’re not an Alpha yet.”

The world , my world, was a collapse of rules when I barged into the holding cell. Two women were there: Aunt Mira, huddled with a shawl over her head like a small dark bird, and Lyria, who sat slumped against the stone, her face filled up with  exhaustion and raw defiance. I  could see bruises  forming where a hand had held her, and for a strangled instant I could not breathe properly .

“Kael.” Her voice cracked like broken glass. The bond hit like a physical thing, hot and  yet bright and pleading. Seeing her there helpless was more than I could bear.

“Get them,” I told Marcus. “I want them free.”

Marcus’s smile smirked. “Oh, we can free them. If you agree to the terms.”

“What terms?”

“You kill the rumors that she’s your choice. Public denouncement. Promise her back to the vote of the council, all you have to do is refuse her. That’s the price.”

The bargain flashed in front of me like poison. He wanted me to betray everything,  to feign denial in front of the pack and then consign her to suspicion. To make her suffer in public so the pack would be appeased.

I felt the bond knot in my chest. My wolf snapped. My hands curled tight around the hilt of my blade until my knuckles went white.

“No,” I said.

Marcus’s grin thinned. “Then you will watch as we do what must be done.”

He gestured. Men moved like a wave. One of them unsheathed a blade the way hunters show knives to young wolves—slow and precise. I lunged, a fast, terrible blur. I was a collision of steel and hair and intent. The fight was not graceful; it was anger used as hammer. I cut and shoved, and when the dust cleared, quiet fell like a heavy blanket.

In the aftermath, the holding cell door opened. Marcus lay on the ground, bruised and breathing hard. The men had scattered, nursing scratches they would tell about for weeks. I helped Lyria to her feet before the world truly returned.

“Kael,” she whispered, and she sagged against me like a tiny animal relieved of one ache.

“We need to go,” I said. “Now.”

Aunt Mira shook her head violently. “They have set a guard on the road east. If you ride now, you’ll run into another trap.”

“Then we leave in another way,” I said. I looked at Lyria’s face and the map of my decision spread out like a blade between my ribs. “I will not let them take you. Not to be executed, not to be humiliated.”

“Kael,” she lifted her head. The bond hummed between us, an ember glowing too hot. What about your father?  “Your father…”

“I will deal with him,” I promised. “If he strikes, I will strike harder.”

We slipped out through the back routes, avoiding the main road . Mira guided us through narrow paths , places where pack lore said the old wolves had walked when borders were young. Lyria rode behind me, quiet, and every time I felt her tense I tightened my grip on the reins.

When we reached the edge of the last copse before the open moor, a shout broke the silence.  Figures coming out  from the dark, there were tge  pack’s hunters. Marcus himself stood at the head of them, his ribs bandaged, his face looking like  a pale map of fury and humiliation.

“You can’t run,” he called. “There will be no escape for the Moonhart witch. She will be judged.”

“We aren’t running,” I said. “We’re leaving.”

His eyes flickered, and for a second I watched a man reconsider his fate. He could have let this be, let it die like so many small fires. Instead he lifted a hand and from the line behind him came two who pushed forward, Selara was with them , a queen of vipers, and behind her, Damien’s personal envoy.

“You are a fool, Kael,” Selara said, and the word landed like a slap. “You think you can defy the tide? You think you can steal what would secure the territory?”

I lashed out then , the only option left that did not involve blood on Lyria’s hands. I drew them into a small clearing. Steel flashed. Words had failed; now action answered. Men moved in a blur. Horses reared. The night air was  filled with sound.

When the fighting stopped, the fight was merciless , Men groaned and spat blood. In the end, there were only three things that mattered: Lyria’s breathing, my roaring heartbeat, and the shape of the silver sky. Marcus lay sprawled, his pride a wound that would take months to show. Selara’s face was pale, her lips parted in a fury that would not be forgotten.

“Run,” I said to Lyria. “Run now. Go east. Find the place Mira told you.”

“No,” she said, her jaw firm. “I will not run while you are in this. We started this together.”

“You owe me nothing,” I said, breathless.

“You owe me everything,” she answered, and there was no shame in the claim.

Her fingers found mine and the bond flared for a while , a living thing, ungovernable. For a moment the world went still; the trees leaned in, listening. Then the sound of hoofbeats more of them rose in the distance, closer than before. Reinforcements. Damien’s shadow moved at the edge of everything.

“Go,” I urged. “Run now, before they close us in.”

She saw the steel in my eyes, read the plan I might not yet speak. “No,” she said again, and this time it wasn’t fear in her voice. It was decision. “I’m staying.”

I wanted to argue, to force her into the carriage I’d hidden in the trees, but the moment the word left my mouth, the world shifted. Marcus’s voice, sharp, controlled, called across the field. “Stop this, both of you.”

A horn blew from the distance. The night was soon filled with the sound of boots and banners, orders that were more than mine—and somewhere beyond the trees, a lieutenant’s shout named the tide of the pack moving in.

We had a single heartbeat to choose. I looked at Lyria, at the bruise curling softly on her neck, at the stubborn defiance in the tilt of her chin. I thought of my father and his bargains, of alliances and of the cost of peace. I thought of the bond that had stolen my calm like a thief and given me something I could not bargain away.

“Then we fight,” I said.

She smiled, fierce and terrible, and the wolf in me rose with hers. 

We did not know then what the dawn would bring, only that the world had pivoted on a single impossible thing: two names bound together, sealed by threat and iron and the scent of wild things. The territory had chosen its actors, and there was no stage big enough for the quiet that would follow