Chapter 3

The witch’s words lingered in the chamber as an uneasy silence settled over the room, and for one brief, fragile moment, Katina dared to hope that someone had finally seen the truth and that this nightmare might finally end.

“What did you say?” Elder Thornwick stepped forward, his sharp eyes narrowing at the witch.

The old woman’s trembling hand remained pressed against Katina’s chest, her cloudy white eyes staring into empty space as though she were seeing something no one else could. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible.

“There’s already a seal.” She paused, swallowing hard before adding, “An ancient one. Someone sealed this child long before I ever touched her.”

A murmur spread through the chamber as the Council members exchanged uneasy glances. Lady Ashbourne stiffened.

“That’s impossible.” She answered too quickly, her tone firm and certain. “The girl has never shown any power. She’s weak, everyone knows she’s weak.”

The witch slowly repeated the word, “Weak…” but it didn’t sound like agreement; instead, there was unmistakable doubt in her voice. Her white eyes shifted toward Lady Ashbourne only for a second  but Katina saw it: a silent exchange, a warning, a secret. Something passed between the two women that Katina couldn’t understand.

“Enough.” Thornwick slammed his staff against the floor, his sharp voice echoing through the chamber. “Whatever trick is being played here changes nothing. The Council has already delivered its judgment, and the sentence stands, so complete the Sealing.”

The witch hesitated. “My lord…” She looked genuinely uneasy. “If another seal already exists, a second sealing could be dangerous.”

“I said complete it.” Thornwick’s voice echoed across the chamber, leaving no room for argument.

The old woman closed her eyes, and for one heartbeat Katina believed she might refuse  that someone, anyone, would choose justice over obedience.

Instead, the witch whispered, “I’m sorry,” and pressed her palm harder against Katina’s chest.

Pain exploded through Katina’s body with such violence that there was no word for it; it wasn’t fire, yet it burned, and it wasn’t drowning, yet she couldn’t breathe. It felt as though someone were tearing apart her soul, ripping away every hidden piece of her before crushing, folding, and burying whatever remained. She screamed until the sound echoed violently through the chamber, while someone shouted for the guards to hold her down and the witch began chanting ancient words, each syllable scraping against Katina’s bones.

Then she heard something else.

A heartbeat. Not her own  another one, deep inside her chest, wild and powerful and furious. It slammed against something invisible, again and again and again, like a beast trapped inside a cage, and then came a voice. Not spoken. Felt. Filled with anger and grief and a fierce, unyielding determination.

“Not forever.”

The words brushed against her soul, and then again, quieter: “Not forever.”

The invisible cage snapped shut. Everything disappeared, at once, the second heartbeat vanished, the voice faded and silence remained.

Katina collapsed forward, her body empty, cold, and broken as tears rolled silently down her face, unable to understand what had been taken from her yet certain, with a grief she could not explain, that something precious was gone.

The witch stumbled backward, her face pale and slick with sweat, looking exhausted and terrified in equal measure. She refused to meet Katina’s eyes, glancing instead toward Lady Ashbourne, and when she finally spoke her voice came out hoarse and hollowed out.

“It is done.” She swallowed, her voice hoarse and hollow. “Her wolf has been sealed, and her bloodline claim has been severed.” After a long silence, she lowered her gaze and whispered, “She is nothing now… as you wished.”

Katina barely heard the words, her mind numb and her heart hollow. She didn’t notice the strange wording until it was too late to matter, not as the law wished, not as the Council wished, but as Lady Ashbourne wished.

⸻

They didn’t return Katina to the servants’ quarters. Instead, the guards dragged her down a narrow stone staircase beneath Ashbourne Manor, the air growing colder and damper and darker with every step until they reached the cellar.

Lady Ashbourne addressed the waiting steward without so much as a glance at Katina. “Ashbourne blood no longer runs through her veins. She belongs to this house now, like every other unclaimed servant.”

The steward Grissom, a large broad man with cold eyes, bowed. “Yes, my Lady.”

Lady Ashbourne turned to leave, then stopped. She looked back, and a faint smile curled across her lips. “You should thank me.” Katina slowly lifted her head. “A public trial would have ended with your execution,” she said, her smile widening slightly. “I chose mercy. You get to live.”

Live. The word felt like a cruel joke, and Katina wanted to ask her how this could possibly be called living, how a mother could do this to her own daughter, but nothing came out because there were no words left inside her, only an emptiness too deep to name.

⸻

The cellar smelled of damp stone, old straw, and melted candle wax. Grissom tossed a thin blanket toward Katina, it landed at her feet  and pointed toward a crowded corner. “You’re on wine service tomorrow. Alliance guests will be arriving all week, so you’ll learn quickly.” His expression hardened. “Or you’ll learn painfully. Your choice.” Without another word, he left, and the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind him.

Katina slowly sat on the straw and wrapped the threadbare blanket around herself, her trembling hands reflecting the turmoil inside her as she remained there for what could have been minutes or hours, surrounded by the oppressive silence of the cellar.

Then someone shuffled toward her: an old servant, his back bent with age, his beard completely grey, one leg dragging slightly as he walked. His cloudy eyes studied Katina carefully as he crouched before her, and neither of them spoke.

Then the old man’s entire body froze, his eyes widening. “Impossible…” His whisper barely reached her ears as he leaned closer, slowly inhaling and his face drained of color. “No…” He breathed again, his voice beginning to tremble as his cloudy eyes widened. “Moon Goddess… I know that scent.”

Katina looked at him weakly, not understanding.

“I haven’t smelled it for over sixty years…” He swallowed hard, disbelief spreading across his weathered face. “Not since the Moonborn bloodline disappeared.”

Katina frowned. “What are you talking about?”

The old servant stared at her as though she had stepped out of legend itself, his voice shaking when he finally found it. “Child…” He leaned even closer. “Do you have any idea…” A long silence stretched between them. “…what you truly are?”