Third Person POV “Why are you avoiding me?” Mirah’s voice struck the air before Kael even had the chance to move further into the room, and although it carried no scream, it clung sharp to the walls, filling the space as though she had rehearsed it. Kael didn’t flinch, nor did he bother to mask the stillness that wrapped around him; he simply closed the door behind him with deliberate care, turned the lock with a soft click, and let silence settle heavy between them. She stood near the bed, her robe tied tightly at the waist as if it were armor, her hair pinned in that careful, half-loose way that gave the illusion of effortlessness while betraying the hours of calculation behind it. She looked, as always, like the Luna everyone bowed to. But to Kael, she no longer looked familiar—she looked like a stranger rehearsing someone else’s role. “I’m not avoiding you,” he said, his voice flat, steady, as he moved to the window and placed one large hand on the frame. The moon hung
Serena’s POV The dining hall was already too loud before I even sat down, voices spilling over one another, laughter stretched a little too thin, forks hitting porcelain with a rhythm that sounded more like impatience than celebration, and yet somehow under all that noise there was the kind of silence that presses on your ears when someone across the room refuses to stop watching you. Kael. He hadn’t looked away since I walked in, his stare heavy, unblinking, and though I didn’t once lift my gaze to meet his, I felt every second of it like heat against my skin, like he was daring me to acknowledge him, to break the wall I had built brick by brick ever since the night Ari almost died and the promise he swore to me snapped in my hands like glass. I sat at the far end, where the table stretched too long and too thin, like distance could shield me from everything pressing in. Mirah was at his right, dressed like she always was when she wanted to be seen, all pale blues and soft
Serena’s POV Later that night, when I sat on the edge of my bed with the photo clutched in my hands, staring at the face of the man who had abandoned me before I even existed, I couldn’t decide what I felt anger for what he never gave me, grief for what I would never know, or hunger for a connection that maybe was never truly there. His features looked sharp but not unkind, his eyes steady but not cold, and his mouth almost almost like mine, though I wasn’t sure if it was real or if I was forcing the similarity because I wanted it too badly. I didn’t hear the door open, but I felt itthe shift in the air, the weight of his aura filling the room before the man himself appeared. My grip on the photograph tightened, and slowly, I lifted my gaze. Kael. He stood in the doorway, tall and broad in black, his presence cutting through silence with that unbearable gravity he always carried, his eyes finding the picture before they found me. He didn’t speak for a long moment, only watch
Serena’s POV “Who is he?” The question slipped out quieter than I intended, but the weight behind it was heavier than anything else in the room, and once it hung in the air, there was no pulling it back. Ma froze at the table where she was folding Ari’s shirts, her hands stilled mid-motion as if the fabric itself had stopped her. She didn’t answer, didn’t look at me, just kept her eyes fixed on the soft cotton in her lap as though silence could erase the truth waiting in my words. “I asked you a question,” I pressed, moving closer to her, my voice sharper now though still trembling at the edges. “Who is my father?” Still nothing, only the sound of the clock on the wall ticking far too loud. “Tell me. We have avoided this topic for ages and its height time we talked about it” At last, she set the shirt aside, smoothed her hands down on her lap, and sat with her back straight. The late sun cut across the room, striking the silver threads in her hair until it looked like
Serena’s POV Mirah’s perfume reached me before her voice did, cloying and over-sweet, as if someone had poured syrup over something already spoiling, trying to mask the rot instead of cleaning it. “I thought you’d be gone by now.” I didn’t turn toward her because I didn’t need to. Only one woman in Moonclaw knew how to smile as if it were a blade, and I recognized her presence before her words even finished echoing. Mirah. She stepped into place beside me on the stone path as though we were two old friends taking air together, but every movement of hers carried the calculation of a performance. Her heels clicked gently with each step, her dress pressed so perfectly it seemed ironed into her skin, the color of it deliberately chosen a white too deliberate, too practiced, too planned. She looked like peace, but she carried war in her hands, and I knew it before she even opened her mouth again. I chose silence, because silence was the one thing she couldn’t twist into somet
Serena’s POV I didn’t go back to my room after the council meeting, because if I had locked myself in those walls I would have broken down, and I refused to give Mirah that satisfaction. Instead, I found myself outside, standing near the fountain, where the water rose and fell in steady arcs, its sound soft enough to calm but not strong enough to silence the noise inside my head. Her words kept replaying as if she had branded them into me: “I’m pregnant.” I thought I was prepared for anything, but I wasn’t prepared for that. Not because I wanted Kael back, not even because I thought I still had some secret claim over him, but because it made everything suddenly clear. Mirah wasn’t the kind woman she pretended to be in front of others, not the generous Luna she liked to play at; she was sharp and deliberate and willing to twist the truth until it bent in her favor. Tonight she had proven she knew exactly how to play this game, and she played it without mercy. The meeting itself