Chapter 6
Morning after the attack was too still.
Aurora stood on the terrace overlooking the courtyard where the fires had burned through the night. The air smelled of smoke and salt, and every stone of the mansion seemed to breathe with exhaustion. She hadn't slept; her eyes were shadowed, her hands still trembled with the echo of the light that had burst from her during the battle.
Below, warriors moved like ghosts, clearing wreckage and tending to the wounded. The laughter and banter that had filled the estate before were gone. In its place was silence-the kind that came after survival, heavy and uncertain.
Damian was in the yard, shirt torn, a bandage wrapped around his side. He issued commands to his warriors with sharp precision, but even from a distance, Aurora could sense the turmoil inside him. His power radiated stronger than ever, but his gaze-when it flicked toward her-carried a weight she couldn't name.
She didn't know what frightened her more: the power she had unleashed, or the way he now looked at her-as if she was both salvation and threat.
A low hum rippled through the air. The guards at the gate stiffened. Damian lifted his head.
"She's here," Kellan murmured beside him.
The words spread through the courtyard like a shiver.
Aurora frowned. "Who's here?"
Before Damian could answer, the gates creaked open.
The old lady entered, cloaked in silver and midnight blue. Her hair was white as snow, her eyes clouded and unseeing but steps were sure, her presence commanding. Two warriors escorted her and their expressions reverent and wary.
Whispers rustled among the pack.
"The Seer..."
"The Moon's Oracle..."
Damian straightened, every inch the Alpha again. "Seraphine," he greeted, his voice steady but respectful.
"Alpha Damian," she replied, her tone low, melodic, carrying the strange echo of ages. "The moon whispered of chaos. I came before it could bleed further."
Aurora felt a chill trace her spine. Something ancient stirred in the air around the woman, like the scent of storm before lightning.
Seraphine's blind eyes turned toward her. Though sightless, they seemed to pierce straight through her soul.
"Ah," Seraphine murmured, her lips curling faintly. "The lost light finally returns."
Aurora stiffened. "You... know me?"
The old woman stepped closer until they stood face to face. "How could I not, Your Highness?"
The courtyard went still.
Aurora blinked, her breath caught. "I'm sorry-what did you call me?"
"Your Highness," Seraphine said again, gently, as though speaking to a frightened child. "Princess Aurora of Eldara. The moon's hidden heir."
The world tilted. Aurora stumbled back, shaking her head. "No. That's not-I'm not-"
Damian caught her arm before she could fall. "Seraphine," he said tightly, "explain."
The seer inclined her head. "Not here. The walls remember. Bring her to the Moon Chamber."
⸻
The Moon Chamber sat beneath the east wing-a circular room of stone and glass, lit by a single shaft of light from a skylight that opened directly to the morning sky. Silver runes lined the walls, ancient and faintly glowing.
Aurora stood in the center, her palms cold, her pulse wild.
Seraphine circled her slowly, sprinkling silver dust that shimmered in the beam of sunlight. "Every soul carries light," she said softly. "But yours, child, carries the moon itself. It sleeps beneath your skin, waiting to be seen."
Damian watched from the doorway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The moonlight reflected in his eyes, softening his usual steel.
Seraphine took Aurora's hands. "This will awaken what was sealed. It will not be gentle."
Aurora nodded, though fear clenched her chest. "Do it."
The seer pricked Aurora's finger with a silver blade. A drop of blood fell into a bowl of clear water. The moment it touched, the water flared into white light, blinding and pure.
Seraphine began to chant in an ancient tongue. The room trembled. The light rose in swirling ribbons, wrapping around Aurora like a living thing.
Pain shot through her veins-fire and frost all at once. Images burst behind her eyelids.
A great castle beneath twin moons.
A queen with hair of silver-white, holding a crying infant.
A crown breaking in two.
Flames. Screams. Shadows devouring light.
Aurora gasped, clutching her chest. The visions came faster, louder.
A voice called her name-"Aurora!"-in a tone that carried both love and terror.
Then darkness swallowed it all.
She fell.
Damian was there in an instant, catching her before she hit the floor. Her body trembled violently; the mark on her wrist glowed like molten silver.
"Seraphine, stop this!" he snarled.
The old woman's voice was calm. "She must remember who she is."
Aurora's eyes snapped open. The silver in them had turned almost white. "Eldara," she whispered hoarsely. "The lost kingdom of the moon."
Seraphine lowered her hands. The light faded, leaving the room in stunned silence.
