Chapter 5: The Ones Left Behind.

The night felt different in moonveil citadel, too quiet and empty.

Elian sat by the tall window of his new chamber, his knees drawn slightly inward, his fingers resting loosely against the cold stone ledge.

Beyond the glass, the forest stretched endlessly—dark, and unfamiliar.

Nothing like home.

The moon rose high above, silver light spilling across the trees, casting long shadows that seemed to move when he wasn’t looking directly at them.

Elian stared at it in silence.

Back home, the moon never felt like this.

It had always been something gentle.

Something distant.

Something beautiful.

Here…

It felt like a countdown.

His fingers curled slightly.

Mother would have finished preparing dinner by now…

The thought came uninvited.

Soft.

Painful.

He could almost see it—the small wooden table, the dim firelight, the familiar scent of herbs lingering in the air. His mother moving quietly between tasks, his sister talking too much, laughing too loudly…

Alive.

Normal.

Safe.

Elian let out a slow breath, his chest tightening.

Are they eating?

Or… are they waiting?

His jaw clenched slightly.

No.

They wouldn’t wait.

His mother wouldn’t allow that.

She would insist.

She always did.

Even on the worst days—

Especially on the worst days.

Elian lowered his gaze, pressing his forehead lightly against the cool glass.

“…I’m fine,” he murmured under his breath.

Like they could hear him.

Like saying it would somehow make it true.

But the silence that followed only made the distance feel greater.

He closed his eyes.

And for the first time since arriving—

Home didn’t feel like a place he could return to.

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Silvermist Pack:

The fire crackled softly.

Too softly.

The house, once filled with warmth and small, familiar sounds, now felt empty.

Empty in a way that couldn’t be fixed.

Two plates sat on the table.

Only two.

Selena stared down at hers, unmoving.

The food had gone cold.

Across from her, their mother sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap, her posture straight—but her eyes distant.

Tired.

Neither of them had spoken for a long time.

Not since the sun had set.

Not since—

Selena’s fingers tightened slightly.

“…Tell me, Mother.”

Her voice broke the silence, sharp in the quiet room.

Their mother looked up slowly.

Selena’s gaze was steady.

Too steady.

“Why did my brother agree to be the next bride… when it clearly wasn’t our turn yet?”

The question hung in the air.

Heavy.

Direct.

Their mother didn’t answer immediately.

She looked down at the table, her fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her dress.

A pause.

Then a soft sigh escaped her lips.

“You are right,” she said quietly.

Selena didn’t move.

Her eyes didn’t leave her mother’s face.

“Elian didn’t go willingly,” she continued.

Something shifted.

Subtle.

But dangerous.

Selena’s voice dropped.

“…Then he was forced.”

Not a question.

A statement.

Their mother hesitated.

Just for a moment.

But Selena noticed.

She always did.

“By who?” Selena asked.

Simple.

Calm.

Too calm.

Lydia chest rose and fell slowly.

She knew that tone.

She knew that stillness.

And it scared her more than anger ever could.

Because if Elian was stubborn sometimes—

Selena was something else entirely.

Still…

She couldn’t hide it.

Not from her.

Not when the truth would find its way to her eventually.

“…It was the family chosen for the next offering,” she said carefully.

Selena’s expression didn’t change.

But her fingers curled tighter against the table.

“Their son,” her mother added quietly.

“Lucas Viremont.”

Silence.

The name settled into the room like a storm waiting to break.

Selena blinked once.

Slowly.

“…Is that so.”

Her voice remained even.

Controlled.

But there was something underneath it now.

Something sharp.

Something cold.

Lydia heart sank because she knows that look, She had seen it before—

On the day someone had insulted Elian in public.

On the day Selena had nearly started a fight she could not win.

On the day she realized her daughter did not forgive.

She endured.

She waited.

And then—

She acted.

“Selena,” her mother said softly, a warning threading through her tone. “Don’t—”

But Selena was already standing.

The chair scraped lightly against the floor.

Not loud.

But final.

Her mother watched her carefully.

“…What are you going to do?”

Selena paused.

Just for a second.

Then turned slightly, her expression calm—

Too calm.

“He made a choice,” she said.

Her voice was steady.

Measured.

“But so did they.”

Her mother’s chest tightened.

“Selena—”

“I won’t do anything reckless,” she interrupted gently.

And somehow—

That was worse.

Because Selena wasn’t reckless.

Reckless people made mistakes.

Selena didn’t.

She planned.

She waited.

And when she moved—

It mattered.

Her mother swallowed.

Because she knew, in that moment—

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

Far away, under the same moon—

Elian sat alone in a castle that didn’t feel like his.

Unaware—

That the storm he left behind…

Was already beginning to rise.