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CHAPTER 128: THE BOX THAT WAS NEVER DELIVERED

Author: Hannie
last update publish date: 2026-10-28 23:36:14

​KAEL

​The old railway depot had been abandoned for eleven years, but someone had recently swept the dust from its front steps.

​Kael noticed that before he noticed the broken, grime-covered windows.

​The structure stood beyond Bellwater's primary commercial district, where the cobblestone streets narrowed and residential homes gave way to disused timber warehouses. Rusted railway tracks disappeared beneath thick weeds. A signal post leaned heavily toward the road, its red glass lens cracked an
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  • kneel Before Your Plus-Size Luna    CHAPTER 129: THE PAGE THEY COULD NOT BURN

    ​KAEL​The missing page had left a raw, jagged scar in the register.​Kael sat at a narrow desk inside Orson Bell’s records house, examining the torn binding under a brass magnifying lens. The page had not been removed in a rush. Someone had painstakingly sliced through the binding thread with a surgeon’s precision, then scraped away the tiny serial number printed along the inner margin.​Whoever had excised it had wanted the entry obliterated without compromising the integrity of the surrounding leaves.​That suggested meticulous calculation.​It did not, however, suggest absolute success.​"Tell me you’ve uncovered something tangible," Gideon said, returning with two pewter mugs of bitter tea.​"I’ve uncovered proof that someone went to extraordinary lengths to ensure we wouldn't," Kael replied grimly.​"Brilliant. Shall I ready the victory trumpets?"​Kael ignored his Beta’s dry sarcasm, tilting the heavy blue register toward the window light.​A ghost of an impression ran parallel

  • kneel Before Your Plus-Size Luna    CHAPTER 128: THE BOX THAT WAS NEVER DELIVERED

    ​KAEL​The old railway depot had been abandoned for eleven years, but someone had recently swept the dust from its front steps.​Kael noticed that before he noticed the broken, grime-covered windows.​The structure stood beyond Bellwater's primary commercial district, where the cobblestone streets narrowed and residential homes gave way to disused timber warehouses. Rusted railway tracks disappeared beneath thick weeds. A signal post leaned heavily toward the road, its red glass lens cracked and hollow.​Gideon crouched beside the rotting wooden threshold. "Fresh boot prints."​"How many?" Kael asked.​"Two distinct sets. One entered. One departed."​"How recently?"​"Within the last twenty-four hours, at most."​Kael stared up at the depot's dark windows. The storage container Orson Bell had disclosed was supposed to be hidden in a private vault leased under Edwin Marr's name. If an operative had already breached the building, they might have recovered the contents—or destroyed whate

  • kneel Before Your Plus-Size Luna    CHAPTER 127: THE SIGNATURE IN THE NORTHERN REGISTER

    ​KAEL​The records house had no sign above its door.​Only a narrow brass plate remained beside the entrance, its lettering worn almost smooth by decades of rain and neglect. Nestled between a shuttered tailor's shop and a timber warehouse smelling of damp cedar, the building looked far too ordinary to contain secrets that had outlasted three royal administrations.​Kael re-read the message in his hand under the grey morning light:​Do not ask for the northern register unless you are prepared to learn who signed it.​It had arrived less than an hour before he rode into Bellwater. He had anticipated a confrontation, perhaps a trap; he had not expected to find the front door resting slightly ajar.​"Do you want me to take the lead?" Gideon asked softly, his hand resting near his hilt.​"No."​"Naturally."​Kael pushed the heavy oak door open.​A small brass bell chimed overhead. The front room was dim and chilly, lined with wooden filing cabinets and crowded shelves of ledgers whose lea

  • kneel Before Your Plus-Size Luna    CHAPTER 126: THE WITNESS WHO DISAPPEARED

    ​AMARA’S POV​The name Edwin Marr was written three times on my list.​Each time, I had circled it in dark ink.​Each time, I had hoped the next document would yield something concrete.​It hadn't.​“He was the transport manager for Northbridge Carriage and Freight,” Adrian said, settling into the armchair opposite my desk. “The company handled private, off-the-books shipments between Greyhold and several northern estates. Marr retired abruptly shortly before the firm was dissolved.”​“And nobody thought to question him?”​“Someone did. There is a record of an inquiry made several years after your father vanished.”​I looked up sharply. “Who initiated it?”​“The name was deliberately scrubbed from the surviving copy.”​Of course it was.​I dropped my quill onto the table with a soft clatter. “I am beginning to suspect these people spent far more effort suppressing their paper trail than executing their actual operations.”​“Perhaps hiding the trail was their primary operation.”​“That

  • kneel Before Your Plus-Size Luna    CHAPTER 125: THE WOMAN THEY COULD NOT FIND

    ​TANYA’S POV​“Ask your father about the mother.”​Tanya read the five scrawled words one last time before holding the parchment over the flickering candle flame on her desk.​The paper curled slowly, blackening at the edges, until the ink dissolved into floating ash upon the silver tray.​She had zero idea who had breached her grandfather's locked study to drop the silver key. She didn't know how the stranger had slipped past the estate wards or how he had known she would be searching through the old archives at that precise hour.​But one reality was abundantly clear:​Someone was deliberately maneuvering her to force her father to stop hiding behind his pathetic wall of convenient ignorance.​The silver key.​She slipped the cool metal object into her inner coat pocket, carefully wrapping her grandfather's letters back in their dark velvet cloth. She deliberately left the specific letter mentioning Elias Voss resting in the drawer.​If the stranger had breached the study once, he w

  • kneel Before Your Plus-Size Luna    CHAPTER 124: THE MAN BESIDE MY FATHER

    ​KAEL’S POV​Kael had spent the entire return ride staring down at the silver-print photograph.​By the time he dismounted outside his private quarters, he had memorized every single shadow, every crease in the paper, and every minute detail of the three figures standing before the gates of Northvale Manor.​Lucien Everhart looked visibly thinner than in the older portraits Kael had seen in the pack archives, but the man was completely unmistakable. His broad shoulders were squared, his jaw set in a grim line, and his right hand rested squarely on the younger man's shoulder beside him.​It was not a captor's aggressive grip.​It was not a physical threat.​It was an act of quiet protection.​That single detail bothered Kael more than anything else he had uncovered.​“Have you identified any secondary leads?” Kael asked the moment Gideon stepped across the threshold of the study.​“Possibly,” Gideon replied, placing a thick, leather-bound volume onto the table. It was an ancient regist

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