All Chapters of Mark by Destiny.: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The first morning Liora woke up in Moonspire felt like something out of a dream.She lay still for a long time, staring at the wooden beams overhead, her fingers curled around the edge of the blanket as though afraid it might be snatched away. The mattress beneath her body was soft, nothing like the thin pallet she had been given in Silvermoon. The blanket was thick, warm, and carried the faint scent of lavender. A shaft of pale morning light poured through the window, painting the stone floor in gold. Birds sang outside, their songs bright and lively, so unlike the cold silence that usually greeted her back at the Beta’s household.At first, she thought it was a trick. Her mind, battered from years of cruelty, whispered doubts. They’ll come soon. They’ll remind you you’re nothing. They’ll call you useless. They’ll tear this peace away.Her heart clenched as she sat up slowly, brushing strands of hair from her face. She touched her arms and found no shackles, no bruises from whips, no

The hall of Moonspire was quiet save for the crackle of the torches against the stone walls. Beta Rexor stood in the center of the throne room, the letter of peace still clutched in his trembling hands. Every breath he drew felt like knives in his chest. He had walked here as a messenger, but the moment his eyes had fallen on the young woman beside Luna Loretta, he was no longer Beta of Silvermoon. He was simply a father who had failed.Liora.His daughter. His child.She looked radiant, her soft blue gown catching the light, her hair neatly braided down her back. She had grown into herself here. Stronger, freer. No longer the timid girl shrinking into corners under Ravena’s shadow. No longer the servant begging for scraps of love at Mariseth’s table. She looked every inch a woman who belonged—not because of blood, but because she had finally been allowed to breathe.Rexor’s throat tightened, and the letter slipped from his hand to the floor.“Liora,” he whispered.The name broke some

The Moonspire palace had long since quieted, but no peace reached me.The torches in the halls burned low, shadows stretching across the stone walls like restless phantoms. In my chamber, the fire in the hearth crackled softly, but its warmth did nothing to chase away the chill that had settled in my bones. I sat by the tall arched window, where the moonlight spilled silver across the floor. My hands twisted the edge of my cloak as my thoughts circled the one truth I had heard that day.Liora is not Rexor’s daughter.The words would not leave me.Ever since that girl had stepped foot in Moonspire, I had felt something stir inside me. A pull, a recognition I could not explain. Her laughter—timid yet unyielding—her defiant eyes that shone even in pain, her quiet resilience… it had all unsettled me. She was not just a girl who had been broken and abandoned. She was a mirror of something, someone I had once held in my arms.My lost child.My throat ached as I swallowed back the lump risin

The nights in Moonspire had grown quieter for Liora. Yet, beneath the laughter, the warm meals, and the kindness of the people, something stirred within her that she could neither name nor silence.She lay awake on her bed, staring at the beams of moonlight spilling through the open window. The silver glow seemed alive, whispering words her heart understood but her mind could not.You are not who you think you are.Your blood sings to us.Wake, child of the Crescent.Her chest tightened. The same words, the same pulse, the same call had haunted her ever since she touched that ancient book.The next morning, she joined Loretta in the garden. Luna was pruning roses, her gentle hands moving as though she had done this her entire life. She looked up and smiled.“You didn’t sleep again,” Loretta observed softly. “Your eyes carry the weight of a thousand thoughts.”Liora hesitated. She wanted to speak, to pour out the restless tide within her, but words stuck in her throat. Loretta must hav

***The dream came again.the crescent moon blazed in fire, hanging low against an endless night sky. Its curved edges dripped sparks that felt like burning embers into the void, hissing as though landing on unseen water. Around her, a thousand whispers rose, voices that were both hers and not hers, calling, chanting, echoing like drums across the heavens."Liora… Liora… the chosen…"She reached upward, her hand trembling. The firelight reflected in her wide eyes as the burning crescent pulsed brighter, searing, alive. It leaned down to her, lowering like a branding iron, and before she could run, it stamped itself onto her arm.Agony flared.Liora screamed as her skin burned, as if her very veins caught flame. But in the pain came flashes: wolves bowing in unity, packs gathered under one banner, blood and battle, and a throne of silver light.Then silence.The dream dissolved into darkness. Liora shot upright in her bed, gasping for air. Sweat drenched her forehead, her hair clung da