All Chapters of MOON MARKED BY THE LYCAN KING: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

SKYE’S POV A week after the coronation, the first caravan from the western coast arrived at Nighthaven. I heard it before I saw it. The deep creak of heavy wagons echoed up the mountain road, followed by the rhythmic clatter of horseshoes against stone. From the eastern balcony, I watched the procession emerge from the morning mist like something out of an old story. Six wagons. Two riders bearing the silver hawk banner of Varell. And behind them, nearly twenty merchants wrapped in dark sea-colored cloaks that looked strangely foreign against the snow. The courtyard below had already filled with curious villagers. Children stood on barrels to see better. Artisans paused their work. Even the guards looked more interested than suspicious. Nighthaven had not received a foreign caravan in years. Beside me, Eryx rested his forearms on the balcony rail. “Well,” he murmured, “this feels important.” “It is important.” “No, I mean historically important. The kind that ends up i

SKYE’S POV The bridge was finished under a sky full of rain. Not a storm. A soft spring rain that turned the stone dark and the river silver. I stood beside Eryx at the edge of the new bridge while villagers crowded both banks, lanterns glowing through the mist. The scent of wet earth, pine, and fresh mortar filled the air. It was not a grand structure. Three stone arches. Timber rails. A carved marker bearing the open circle of the new kingdom. And somehow, it felt more important than half the victories we had won in war. Lina appeared at my side, soaked despite her mother’s obvious efforts to keep her dry. “Can we cross now?” I looked at the workers. The blacksmith grinned and stepped back from the final support beam. “Go on.” The children exploded forward. Lina was first across. Her grandmother followed more slowly, leaning on a cane, and when she reached the center of the bridge she stopped and looked down at the water rushing beneath her. For a moment, no one s

SKYE’S POV The summit began with rain and ended with sunlight. At dawn, clouds pressed low over Nighthaven, wrapping the fortress in silver mist. By noon, the rain had faded to a fine drizzle, and delegations from every allied realm were climbing the mountain road beneath banners that snapped damply in the wind. I watched them arrive from the Great Hall. Western merchants in deep blue. Southern envoys in crimson. Eastern scholars in green and gold. Northern clan leaders in white and gray fur. And the silver hawk of Varell flying among them. The sight still startled me. Months ago, these roads had carried soldiers. Now they carried diplomats, builders, teachers, and traders. Eryx stepped beside me. “Nervous?” “Yes.” “Good.” I glanced at him. “That’s your comforting speech?” “If you stop feeling nervous before important moments, I’ll start worrying.” Fair. Below us, Kael was directing the arrivals with the concentration of a battlefield commander. One servant appro

SKYE’S POV I dreamed of doors. Not the dark doors of the Veil. Not the broken gates of ruined fortresses. These were ordinary doors—wooden, weathered, standing in impossible places. One opened onto a storm-torn sea. Another onto a crowded market filled with voices I could not understand. A third onto a field of white flowers stretching beyond the horizon. And the last door opened onto Nighthaven. Not the fortress. The valley. Bridges. Schools. Gardens. Children running along roads that did not exist yet. When I stepped toward that final door, it dissolved into sunlight. I woke with tears on my face. For a moment, I did not know why. Then I remembered. Today we would decide. Beside me, Eryx stirred. “You’re crying.” “I was dreaming.” “Good dream or bad dream?” I looked toward the window where dawn was turning the sky pale gold. “I think it was a future dream.” That made him fully awake. He propped himself on one elbow, studying me with quiet concern. “What

SKYE’S POV The letter arrived at midnight. Not through the main gates. Not with the harbor courier. A raven struck the window of our chamber hard enough to wake both of us. Eryx was on his feet before I fully opened my eyes. For one disorienting heartbeat, old fear surged through me. War. Attack. Disaster. Then I saw the bird perched on the sill, rain-dark feathers glistening in the moonlight. Its leg carried the seal of the eastern watchtowers. Eryx took the message, broke the seal, and read. His expression did not change. That frightened me more than any curse could have. “What is it?” He looked up slowly. “The Veil moved.” The room went completely still. I took the parchment from him with suddenly cold fingers. **Eastern Veil Station Seven.** **Third bell.** **Observed: silver disturbance beyond the old boundary.** **No breach. No casualties. Awaiting instructions.** I read it twice. Then a third time. No breach. No casualties. And yet my pulse was hamm