Chapter 4

Katina stared at the old man, and for one long, confused moment she wondered if the Sealing had finally broken her mind.

“What did you say?”

The old man immediately straightened, his cloudy eyes darting toward the narrow staircase leading out of the cellar. He looked nervous, as though someone might be listening  as though a predator lurked just beyond the darkness  and when his expression hardened, his voice came out lower than before.

“Nothing.” He shook his head quickly, his expression tightening. “Just an old fool speaking nonsense. Forget you heard it.”

“You said Moonborn,” Katina insisted. “You said I smelled like…”

“I said nothing.” He quickly crouched in front of her again, this time reaching for her wrist  not the one bearing the fading mate mark, but the other, as though even touching the marked wrist was dangerous.

He held it gently and locked his eyes onto hers. “Listen to me, and listen carefully. Whatever you are, whatever I sensed… you must never speak of it. Not to Grissom, not to the servants, not to anyone.” Not even in your sleep. Do you understand?

Katina stared at him, her voice trembling. “I don’t understand anything.” She pulled in a shaky breath, tears filling her eyes again. “Two hours ago, I had a home, a family, a name. Now I have nothing, and you’re telling me I’m something I’ve never even heard of, but you won’t tell me what it means.”

The old man’s face softened, not with pity but with understanding, as though he had once stood exactly where she was now.

“My name is Merek.” He slowly released her wrist, a bitter smile crossing his face. “I’ve served this family longer than your mother has been alive, and she never cared enough to learn my name.”

He looked away for a moment before continuing, “I know what it’s like to lose everything in one night, and I know what it’s like to have people tell you that you’re nothing. They only say that because it helps them sleep at night.”

Katina remained silent.

Merek sighed before lowering his voice again. “And I know enough about forgotten bloodlines to recognize dangerous scents, especially inside this house.”

Katina searched his face. “If it’s so dangerous… Why tell me anything?”

“Because you’re going to need someone who isn’t afraid of what you might become.” A sad smile appeared as he slowly stood, his knees cracking loudly. “And because I don’t believe tonight is the end.” His expression darkened. “The Sealing was rushed, careless, and sloppy. Whatever was sleeping inside you… it didn’t surrender quietly.”

Katina froze. She remembered it: that second heartbeat, that strange voice pressed against the inside of her soul. Not forever.

A chill ran through her body.

Merek watched her carefully. “You felt something.” It wasn’t a question; he could see the answer written plainly across her face.

Katina quickly looked away. “It was nothing.” The lie came automatically as she lowered her eyes. “I’m just tired. I want to sleep.”

Merek studied her for several seconds before slowly nodding. “I’ll leave it alone.” He turned toward the darker end of the cellar. “Sleep while you can. Dawn comes early, and Grissom has little patience.” He took a few slow steps before stopping, and without turning around, said quietly, “One more thing.”

Katina looked up.

“Never let them see you break.” His voice echoed softly through the cellar. “Not your family, not the Council, not the guests upstairs. Wolves like Lady Ashbourne enjoy watching broken people stay broken.” He finally looked back. “Don’t give her that satisfaction.”

Then he disappeared into the shadows.

Katina sat alone, Merek’s words circling endlessly through her mind  the witch’s fear, Lady Ashbourne’s reaction, the mysterious Moonborn bloodline, the second heartbeat. Nothing made sense. She lay down on the thin straw mattress, but sleep never came. Instead she listened, water dripping somewhere behind the stone walls, servants shifting quietly in their sleep, Ashbourne Manor stirring above them, wide awake. The scandal of the broken Moon Bond Ceremony had already spread.

Katina slowly placed her hand over her chest, right where the witch had touched her and where the second heartbeat had lived, but there was only silence beneath her palm. Nothing. The Sealing had worked or so everyone believed.

As the night grew darker, she frowned when something very faint and barely noticeable moved beneath her palm, a tiny pulse, weak and distant, but unmistakably alive.

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Morning arrived cold and grey, exactly as Merek had warned.

The cellar doors burst open, and Grissom’s booming voice filled the room. “Up! No sleeping, move!” Servants hurried to their feet, and Katina followed. Someone tossed a rough grey servant’s dress toward her and she quickly changed into it, the fabric scratching against her skin, nothing about it fitting properly.

Grissom shoved a polished silver wine pitcher into her hands, the weight of it surprisingly heavy, before surveying the room. “Alliance guests began arriving yesterday. More will arrive throughout the week.”

He pointed toward Katina. “You’ll be serving wine in the upper dining hall.” His voice became colder. “Keep your eyes lowered. Keep your mouth shut. And don’t spill wine on anyone important.” He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “If you do… your punishment will be far worse than embarrassment.”

“What alliance?” The question escaped before Katina could stop it.

Grissom stared at her as though she’d asked something ridiculous. “The Ashbourne family is negotiating a treaty with the Northern Kingdom involving, trade territory, politics. None of it concerns servants.” He waved dismissively. “Our job is simple: serve, stay alive, repeat.” Then he walked away, barking orders at someone else.

Katina stood quietly, the silver pitcher resting heavily in her hands as the words echoed inside her mind. Northern Kingdom. King. She didn’t know why, but hearing those words stirred something deep inside her, something she couldn’t name or explain.

She climbed the narrow stone staircase toward the manor, toward the world that had rejected her only hours earlier, unaware that beyond Ravenmoor’s borders, a royal convoy was already approaching, black and crimson banners waving above armored soldiers as a king with crimson eyes and secrets older than kingdoms themselves rode at its center.