MasukIt wasn't Damian.
It was Garrick, his beta, the man who used to train beside him every morning, the man who stood two steps behind him at the rejection ceremony without saying a single word to stop it. "Stay back," Kael said, moving in front of me, but Garrick raised both hands slowly, showing he wasn't holding a weapon. "I'm not here to fight you," Garrick said. "I'm here because Damian doesn't know I left the palace." That stopped me cold. My legs were still shaking from the run, my mind still spinning from Vaughn and Ilsa, and now this, another piece of Damian's world showing up uninvited. "What does that mean." Garrick's eyes flicked to Renata, then back to me, like he was deciding how much he could actually say out loud. "It means I've been watching the council for years, waiting for proof of what they did to your family. Tonight, when Renata said Damian's father was involved, something in me finally clicked into place." "Why should we believe a word out of your mouth," Kael said, still tense, still ready to fight if this went wrong. "Because I have documents," Garrick said. "Old ones. Records from thirty years ago that I found buried in the archive vault, sealed under the old king's personal seal. I've been sitting on them for two years, too scared to do anything with them." My heart pounded. "What kind of records." "Names," Garrick said. "Every alpha who sat on that council. Every order given. Including the order to hunt down Adira Voss and every Aurelian who might carry her bloodline forward." The forest went quiet around us, even the wind seeming to hold still. My mother's name coming out of a stranger's mouth felt wrong somehow, like she belonged only to me and Renata now, not to anyone connected to Damian's world. "You have proof my mother was murdered," I said slowly, "and you never told anyone." "I was afraid," Garrick admitted, his voice rough. "Afraid of what it would mean for the kingdom if the truth came out. Afraid of what Damian's father would do to me if he found out I knew. I told myself I was protecting people by staying quiet." "And now," I asked. "Now I watched a king I respected reject a mate for a woman with no loyalty except to her own family's ambition. Now I know that same mate is the daughter of a woman his own father had killed. I can't stay quiet anymore. Not after tonight." Renata studied him carefully, the way she studied everything, like she was weighing every word for a lie hidden underneath. "Where are these records now." "Hidden," Garrick said. "Somewhere only I know. I came looking for you because if anyone deserves to see them first, it's her." I felt something shift in my chest, not the heat of the shift this time, but something quieter, something almost like hope. "Why should I trust you over everyone else who's tried to use me tonight." Garrick met my eyes steadily. "Because I'm not asking you to come with me. I'm asking you to let me help from where I am. I can get you those records without ever bringing you back into danger. You don't have to trust me completely. You just have to let me try." Kael still looked unconvinced, arms crossed, jaw tight. "And if this is a trap. If Damian sent you to lure her back." "Then kill me," Garrick said simply. "I mean that. If I'm lying, you'll have every right." Nobody said anything for a long moment. I looked at Renata, searching her face for some kind of answer, but she just shook her head slightly, leaving the choice to me. "Fine," I said. "Bring us the records. But we're not changing our path. We're still heading to the Ashwood Ruins." Garrick nodded slowly. "I'll find you there. It might take a few days, but I'll come." "How do we know you won't lead Damian straight to us," Kael asked. "Because if I wanted to hand her over, I already could have," Garrick said. "I know exactly where you're standing right now. I chose to talk instead." That much, at least, made sense. Garrick turned to leave, then paused, looking back at me one more time. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for standing there and doing nothing while he rejected you. I should have said something. I was a coward that night." I didn't have a response for that. Some wounds don't close just because someone finally admits they caused them. He disappeared into the trees, and the three of us stood there in silence for a while, letting everything settle. "Do we trust him," I finally asked. "I don't know," Renata said honestly. "But if he's telling the truth, those records could change everything. Proof like that could turn kingdoms against the council that killed your mother. It could give you allies you don't even know you have yet." "And if he's lying," Kael said. "Then we'll deal with it when it happens," Renata said. "For now, we keep moving. The Ashwood Ruins won't wait for us to figure out who to trust." We pushed through the ravine as the first light of morning started creeping over the horizon, exhaustion pulling at every part of my body. My mind kept circling back to Garrick's face, the guilt in his voice, the way he flinched when he apologized. Something about it felt real in a way Vaughn and Ilsa never had. By midday we stopped to rest near a shallow stream, and I finally let myself sit still long enough to feel everything I'd been pushing down since the rejection. The betrayal. The fear. The strange, aching hope that maybe not everyone in Damian's world was as cold as he'd been. I dipped my hands into the cold water and splashed my face, trying to wash away some of the exhaustion clinging to every part of me. Kael sat across from me, watching me carefully. "You're thinking about him. Garrick." "I'm thinking about all of it," I admitted. "How fast everything changed. How many people suddenly care what happens to me now that I'm not just a rejected Luna anymore." "That's the price of what you are," Kael said quietly. "Everyone wants a piece of power like yours. The real question is who wants to use it, and who actually wants to stand beside you." I didn't have an answer for that yet. But as we sat there, the stream trickling quietly beside us, I felt the weight of the last two days pressing down harder than ever. That's when Renata suddenly went still, her head snapping toward the treeline. "Someone's coming," she whispered. "Fast." I stood immediately, my whole body tensing. "Is it Garrick," I asked. Renata's face told me the answer before she even said it. "No," she said. "This one feels different. Older. Stronger." Kael was already on his feet, positioning himself in front of me. "How much stronger." Renata's eyes stayed locked on the trees, gold light flickering faintly at the edges. "Strong enough that I don't think we can outrun it," she said. "Whatever's coming, it isn't human. And it isn't a normal wolf either."Two weeks of genuine peace followed the wedding, the kind of quiet, ordinary happiness I'd once believed impossible given everything still technically unresolved. Damian and I settled into something resembling routine, mornings spent on Accord correspondence and Concordat follow-up, evenings reserved deliberately for simply being married rather than constantly managing crisis."I could get used to this," Damian admitted one evening, watching the sunset from our tent's entrance with an ease I rarely saw from him before the wedding."Don't get too used to it," I said, though I said it gently, grateful enough for the peace myself that I understood exactly what he meant. "I have a feeling ordinary mornings are a privilege this fight only occasionally allows us."He laughed, soft and warm. "Then I'll treasure every one we actually get."We spent those mornings differently than any period since this fight began, walking the camp together without the weight of imminent crisis pressing down o
Morning arrived gentle and clear, sunlight spilling through the tent where Renata and Selene helped me into my mother's dress, careful hands smoothing silver fabric that had waited decades to be worn again. "You look exactly like her," Renata said, voice thick with emotion as she stepped back to study the full effect. "I nearly forgot, for a moment, which of you I was actually looking at." "Is that strange for you," I asked. "Seeing her in me so clearly, today of all days." "It's the best kind of strange," Renata said. "I spent so long grieving what she'd lost. Today, I think I finally understand what she actually gave you instead. Not simply absence to mourn. A legacy worth carrying forward into something genuinely joyful." Selene fastened the final clasps with practiced care, stepping back alongside Renata to admire the completed effect. "Damian won't survive the sight of you walking toward him," she said, grinning. "I hope you're prepared for that particular casualty." I laughe
Draven's hall filled steadily through the final days before the wedding, banners from seven kingdoms hanging alongside fresh garlands Selene had insisted on weaving herself, silver and gold ribbon catching torchlight in a display that felt less like simple decoration and more like a physical record of everything we'd survived to reach this moment.Alistair arrived first among the visiting delegations, greeting me with a warmth entirely different from the cautious formality of our initial meeting months earlier."I confess I didn't expect to find myself this genuinely invested in a wedding when we first discussed containment measures," he said, a wry smile softening the admission. "Funny how quickly fear gives way to something better, given honest enough reason.""I'm glad it did," I said, meaning it fully.He studied the hall around us, banners and garlands still being arranged by Selene's careful direction, and something thoughtful crossed his composed features. "You understand, I ho
Renata and Sabine approached me together three days after the first whisper, both carrying the particular seriousness that had come to mean they'd spent considerable time deliberating before arriving at a shared conclusion."We'd like to try something," Renata said. "A different kind of training than what Kael's been teaching you. Mental rather than physical, though I suspect the discipline required might prove just as demanding.""What kind of training," I asked."Your mother wrote about knowing yourself well enough to recognize mimicry," Sabine said. "I believe that's a skill that can actually be practiced, the same way any other discipline can be. Not perfectly, perhaps, not immediately. But practiced regardless."We began that same afternoon, settling into a quiet corner of camp away from the general bustle of wedding preparations still continuing steadily around us. Renata guided me through exercises I hadn't expected, naming my own desires out loud, specific and honest, until th
I spent the days following Mircea's warning reading my mother's journal slowly, deliberately, unwilling to rush through pages that felt like the closest thing to actually knowing her I'd ever been given. Her handwriting grew more urgent toward the later entries, careful theory giving way to something closer to genuine fear as whatever she'd discovered clarified into focus.The pull isn't simply power waiting to be claimed, one entry read. It's awareness. Something ancient enough to recognize exactly what kind of attention it's receiving, patient enough to wait centuries for the right moment to actually act on that recognition. If I'm right about what Mircea's order is actually protecting against, then the danger was never simply that an Aurelian might open the door carelessly. The danger is that whatever waits beyond it might eventually learn how to reach through the connection itself, regardless of whether the door technically opens at all.I read that passage three times, cold dread
Mircea waited at the clearing's center when we arrived, alone, no guardians or followers visible anywhere in the surrounding treeline. He looked different in the pale morning light than he had in the valley or the Hollow, something almost ordinary about him despite the three centuries he carried, like the weight of his own certainty had finally grown heavy enough to show on his face."You came," he said, something like genuine relief coloring his voice. "I confess I wasn't entirely certain you would.""I almost didn't," I admitted, Damian steady beside me, visible and present the way he'd promised the night before. "Give me a reason I was right to take that risk."Mircea gestured toward two weathered stones nearby, clearly placed deliberately for exactly this purpose. "Sit, if you're willing. What I need to tell you deserves more than standing tension between us."I sat carefully, Damian remaining close but allowing me the space to lead this conversation myself. Mircea settled opposit







