My mind is still spinning, drawn back to the small meeting we had this morning. Even the cool night air enveloping my body with its gentle chill cannot quell the turmoil in my mind.
We sat in a circle in the strategic meeting room on the western border, without excessive formality. Just me, Alpha Aric, Rowan, Tavien, Nyra, and Ilon. In the center of the round black stone table, a map was spread out, showing the western border region where the last movements of the white wizards had been reported.“Their trail is faint, but real,” Nyra said, pointing to a small circle drawn in red ink. “Unlike black wizards, they leave behind softer magical residue, almost like mist.”“And their magic smells different,” Ilon added softly. “There’s something cold about it, like the scent of iron and frozen rain.”Rowan sat with one hand propping up his chin. “They’re not trying to scare us. They seem to be assessing and analyzing. That makes thThe days following the arrival of the white wizards marked a new chapter for the Silvergrove pack. Initial tensions were inevitable, but after several days of rigorous investigation by our security team and internal investigators, as well as direct verification by Hessel, an expert in detecting forbidden magic, trust began to grow slowly. None of them showed any affinity for dark magic, and all tests indicated honesty in their intentions.I still remember clearly the closed-door meeting held with the elders and influential figures of the Silvergrove pack. The room was filled with serious faces, but no one objected. Some of them still harbored doubts, but they trusted Alpha Aric’s observations and my judgment as Luna. And in the end, the decision was made: Silvergrove officially accepted the white wizards as their allies.The news spread throughout our territory. Some welcomed it with relief, others needed time. But today is not just about the Silvergrove
The overcast sky hung low as we walked down the main corridor of the palace toward the front courtyard. The soft creaking of the wheelchair wheels on the stone floor blended with Nyra's footsteps and the quiet patter of my shoes. I walked beside Mira, occasionally glancing at the white-haired girl sitting quietly with a thin blanket draped over her lap. Her face looked fresher, though it still bore the marks of wounds and fatigue.“Luna Lyara, thank you for allowing me to meet them. No, actually, even just not immediately expelling white witches like me is more than enough. Because the black wizards commit so many crimes, we who are of the same race but different beliefs sometimes face prejudice,” Mira said softly, breaking the silence.“If someone spills black ink on paper, it doesn’t mean the entire paper becomes black. It’s only right that I treat someone on the same side with kindness,” I replied, turning my head. “You are the key witness to everythin
The treatment room was filled with soft light from golden crystal chandeliers. White curtains fluttered gently in the breeze from the slightly open window. In the corner of the room, a bowl of water with a clean cloth lay on a small table. The pungent aroma of herbal medicines mingled with the scent of lavender flowers, deliberately placed to calm the atmosphere.I sat on a soft rattan chair beside the bed. Alpha Aric stood behind me, his hand gently touching my shoulder, offering silent strength. Before me, the girl with white hair—her skin pale, but her eyes now fully open. Her irises were light brown, hazy with the remnants of trauma. Yet there was still resolve there.“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice hoarse but full of sincerity. “For saving me from them.”I smiled faintly, trying to offer comfort. “What is your name?”She bowed her head slightly, then answered, “Mira. Mira Solenn. Daughter of the leader of the white
"Did she say anything?" I asked softly, flipping through the pages of the report I hadn't had time to sign yet. Tavien stood not far from the desk, his face still marked by fatigue. Behind him, the window reflected a pale light, illuminating part of his hair, which was tousled by the morning breeze.“Not much,” Tavien finally replied. “But she didn’t mention a single name. Not who their leader is, not the exact location of their base, and not their objectives either.” I pressed my temples, trying to quell the faint throbbing that was beginning to form there. “Then what did she say?” “We’ve launched a high-level investigation, but she only spoke a few sentences. She said she was indeed a spy. From the very beginning, from the day her parents died.” My heart sank. I might understand the pain of losing a beloved parent in a sense of injustice, but not for others. To them, Thalia was just a spy and a traitor.
"Quickly prepare the room! Call the doctor and nurse immediately!" My voice echoed through the palace hall as I stepped inside, blood still drying on my skin, and a white-haired girl unconscious in Tavien's arms behind me. Our clothes were torn, dirty, and covered in blood. The servants, who usually moved gracefully, were now panicking, running down the corridors with pale faces.Tavien, despite his injuries, swiftly carried the girl toward the treatment room. Nyra ran ahead, pulling back the curtains and spreading out a clean white blanket. The scent of antiseptic filled the air as two doctors and three medical assistants burst in, carrying their equipment.“Luna, what’s wrong with you?” Liora gripped my blood-soaked hand tremblingly.My other hand rose to touch her shoulder. “Liora, I’m fine. This isn’t my blood. You can relax your tense expression.”Liora exhaled deeply. “Thank goodness.” “Thank you for your
The world did not move immediately. Thalia's voice still echoed in the air, piercing my heart like an arrow that could not be pulled back. Tavien, Nyra, and I stood in a whirlpool of confusion we had not anticipated. Our breath mingled with blood and dust. But more painful than all the wounds I felt on my body was the feeling of betrayal that stabbed me in the chest.Tavien growled softly but did not move forward. Nyra looked at me, waiting for a signal. But I couldn’t give her anything.All the battles we’d fought. All the wounds she’d witnessed firsthand. All the laughter she’d brought. Was it all fake? Was everything just a mask tightly affixed to a face that had always seemed so pure and sincere?Those thoughts swirled at a painful speed. Time and again, memories of Thalia’s small laughter with me, her seriousness during training, her steadfastness when I reached out to her—all flashed like waves eroding the steadfastness of my heart.