Chapter 17: Secrets and Silver

Aria didn’t sleep.

She stared at the ceiling of her chambers until the shadows outside melted into soft morning light. Her encounter with Lira haunted every thought. The prophecy. The rebellion. The throne.

But it was Kael’s words that lingered most.

I wish you weren’t my weakness.

How could a man so feared, so ruthless, admit something so... raw?

And yet, there was no safety in it. His gaze held both fire and frost. She could never let herself forget: Kael might want her, but he would never choose her over his kingdom.

Just before dawn, she rose and walked to the vanity. The mark on her wrist—the crescent symbol of the Silver Moon—had faded. But in her blood, she could feel the awakening Lira spoke of. Power simmered just beneath her skin, like a storm waiting for her command.

If she was to stand against Kael someday, she needed to be ready.

There was no room left for doubt.

A knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Come,” she called, hiding the mark with her sleeve.

A young servant girl stepped in. “The king requests your presence in the council chambers.”

Again?

She forced a calm expression. “I’ll be there shortly.”

As the girl bowed and left, Aria stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment. Then she whispered, “Let the games begin.”

The council chamber smelled of leather, firewood, and something more bitter—like old secrets rotting in silence.

Kael sat at the head of the obsidian table, flanked by his most loyal councilmen. His Beta, Rowan, stood beside him, arms crossed and gaze sharp. Elder Halric was present too—the only one among them who gave Aria pause. His white beard and blind eyes were deceptive. The man missed nothing.

As Aria entered, murmurs died. All heads turned toward her.

She kept her chin high and posture regal.

Kael’s jaw ticked slightly, but his face remained unreadable. “You’re late.”

She gave a faint smile. “Forgive me. I wasn’t aware punctuality was suddenly a royal virtue.”

The corner of Kael’s lip twitched.

Rowan coughed to hide a laugh.

Halric, however, leaned forward, his milky eyes fixed on her.

“We were discussing the border attacks,” Kael said smoothly. “Four rogue incidents in two days. And now rumors of rebel camps near the Eastern Mountains.”

Aria kept her expression neutral, but her pulse quickened.

“Do you know anything about this?” Halric asked directly, his tone calm but probing.

“Me?” she asked, tilting her head. “Why would I know anything about rebels?”

“Because rebels tend to follow symbols,” the old man said. “And some might see you as one.”

The tension in the room thickened.

Kael said nothing.

Aria met Halric’s gaze without flinching. “If I were truly a threat, do you think I’d be sitting here?”

“No,” Halric murmured. “But perhaps you’re biding your time.”

Rowan stepped in, his voice casual. “Enough. She’s under Kael’s protection. Unless you have proof, Elder, accusations mean nothing.”

Kael raised a hand. “Let her speak.”

All eyes turned to Aria again.

She smiled, slow and deliberate. “I may have been born a daughter of the Silver Moon, but I’ve bled under this roof. I’ve been a guest. A prisoner. And now… a political pawn. If I wanted power, I wouldn’t be here. I’d already be wearing a crown soaked in blood.”

Silence followed.

Kael studied her with narrowed eyes. “Dismissed.”

She turned and walked away, spine straight, refusing to show how deeply Halric’s words had shaken her.

He was right.

She was biding her time.

And time was running out.

That night, Aria returned to the hidden alcove in the garden. A part of her hoped Lira would appear again—but no message came. Only the wind answered her.

She sat in the shadows, listening.

And thinking.

She needed leverage.

Not just her bloodline or prophecy—something real. Tangible.

Kael trusted no one completely, not even his Beta. But he had a secret she hadn’t uncovered yet. A reason for the council’s paranoia. A reason why he refused to name an heir despite the pressure. A reason he kept her close… even when it broke him.

She had to find it.

The only person who might know was Rowan.

And if she could gain his confidence...

She pulled her cloak tighter.

Tomorrow, she’d start asking questions.

Elsewhere, Kael stood alone in the war chamber, staring at the old map spread across the table. Red markers dotted the eastern territory, indicating rebel activity. The council was losing patience. Halric especially.

But what troubled Kael more was Aria.

She was slipping through his fingers.

He could feel the bond fraying, even as his wolf howled for her. A part of him wanted to chain her to the palace walls just to keep her from disappearing again. Another part knew that if he truly cared, he had to let her choose her path.

Even if that path led her away from him.

“Stupid,” he muttered.

He didn’t get to want both the crown and the girl.

But still… he’d try.

The next morning, Aria approached Rowan under the pretense of learning about the palace’s defenses. He was reluctant at first, but curiosity seemed to get the better of him.

“You’re not the average prisoner,” he said as they walked the upper ramparts.

She smiled. “And you’re not the average Beta.”

He chuckled. “Touché.”

She let the silence stretch, then asked casually, “Do you ever wonder what Kael hides beneath that mountain of control?”

Rowan frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… he doesn’t trust easily. Not even his council. Not you. What’s he protecting?”

Rowan hesitated.

“Look, I’m not trying to pry,” she said softly. “But if I’m going to survive here, I need to understand the game.”

Rowan sighed. “The king’s past is not mine to reveal. But… there are things even the council doesn’t know. His claim to the throne wasn’t without blood. And some debts remain unpaid.”

Her heart raced.

“Like what?”

But Rowan only shook his head. “Stay sharp, Aria. That’s all I can say.”

Later that night, Aria locked her door and retrieved the only thing her mother had ever left behind: a pendant with a hidden compartment. Inside was a strip of parchment she’d never understood.

But now, with everything Lira had said, she saw it differently.

Symbols. Names. Coordinates.

It wasn’t just a relic.

It was a map.

A map to something ancient.

Something worth killing for.

She clutched it tightly, breath shallow.

If she could find what it pointed to, she wouldn’t just be a rebel queen.

She’d be unstoppable.