Chapter 227: The Evolution of Sacred Moon
Chapter 227: The Evolution of Sacred Moon
Sacred Moon Hospital
The usually plain, functional halls of Sacred Moon’s hospital glowed with a gentle light, subtly filtered through a crystalline charm Soraya had hung on the windows. In the corridors, a new atmosphere lingered—subtle, almost imperceptible, but saturating the air like an ancient whisper.
Soraya, focused, moved her hands above a young wolf injured at the shoulder during training. Beside her, Myrria monitored the holographic readouts generated by a device she had adapted for lupine physiology.
“The wound is healing faster than expected,” Soraya noted in a low, steady voice. “The life flow is responding.”
The boy, surprised by the soothing warmth radiating from her hands, gazed at her in awe.
Myrria smiled while reviewing the data.
“You know, Soraya… I’ve noticed something these past weeks. The young ones are healing faster. And not just because of our care.”
Soraya looked up, intrigued.
“You think it’s tied to our presence?”
“More than that,” Myrria replied. “Their energy reacts to ours. They’ll never become mages, but they’re… sensitive now. More attuned to dreams. To signs. To what can’t be seen.”
A little further down the corridor, two young she-wolves whispered to each other, fascinated by the faint lights shimmering along the walls—unintentional echoes of the draconic magic lingering in the air.
Soraya watched them tenderly.
“Children who see farther than their shadows. That will be a strength against the witches. They’ll no longer be able to hide behind illusions.”
Myrria nodded, her eyes shining with quiet confidence.
“Sacred Moon is changing. And so are they.”
A burst of laughter suddenly echoed down the hall: Loric had slipped away from a healer’s attention to run toward Lya, waiting farther ahead. The boy raised his arms and, unknowingly, passed beneath a protective rune Myrria had etched earlier. It glowed faintly as he crossed, reacting to his innocent energy.
Soraya met Myrria’s eyes, moved.
“Yes. Sacred Moon is changing. And this is only the beginning.”
Caleb stepped through the hospital’s automatic doors, his tall figure immediately recognized as pack members respectfully moved aside. In his mind, Handres purred with satisfaction, sensing the air thick with this new aura saturating Sacred Moon.
Bastien was already waiting in the corridor, tablet in hand. He gave a brief nod.
“Alpha Caleb.”
Caleb returned a faint smile before entering the room where Soraya and Myrria were finishing their work. His gaze softened as he saw Loric sitting beside his mother, busy drawing with a crayon gifted by a healer.
“So, Bastien,” Caleb asked, turning toward the director, “what was so urgent you needed to speak with me about?”
“The readings confirm what Soraya and Myrria suspected. The young are healing faster—but that’s not all. Their heart rates, their reactions to stimuli… They seem to pick up on energy signals.”
Caleb’s brow furrowed slightly.
“No magic?”
“No,” Bastien clarified. “But heightened sensitivity. They sense things they shouldn’t be able to. They respond before being called, as if… as if a part of them had awakened.”
Listening, Myrria added softly:
“That’s exactly it. Not powers. But resonance. A new vigilance.”
Caleb crossed his arms, his Alpha gaze sharpening.
“Then it’s a weapon. Not against our enemies directly—but against their tricks. The witches won’t be able to hide behind mirages or false voices. Our young will know.”
Handres growled approvingly in his mind: “Sharpened instinct… at last, a pack that truly sees.”
Bastien nodded, though his lips pressed thin.
“It’s a strength, yes. But it also draws attention. And you know as well as I do—the witches don’t take kindly to losing their advantage.”
Caleb met his eyes, unwavering.
“Let them come. Sacred Moon is ready.”
Behind him, Loric looked up as if he had heard.
“Daddy, I’ll be ready too.”
The smile that curved Caleb’s lips seemed to ripple through the very air of the room.
A respectful silence followed Loric’s declaration. Caleb leaned slightly toward his son, a hand resting on his small shoulder, while Bastien adjusted the data once more.
Then, suddenly, the door burst open.
“Well, what’s this I hear?!” boomed a theatrical voice. “My future nephew is already turning the pack into a mini anti-witch armada, and nobody thought to tell me?”
Drake swept in like a storm, his trademark roguish grin firmly in place. He strolled closer, hands in his pockets, feigning indignation.
“Honestly, Caleb, the least you could do is warn me when your kid decides to throw the world’s balance into chaos. I’d have worn a special suit for the occasion.”
Caleb arched an eyebrow, unbothered.
“You have perfect timing—for ruining a serious moment. Congratulations.”
“Ruining? Me?” Drake pressed a hand to his chest with mock offense. “I’m just adding the artistic touch.”
In Caleb’s mind, Handres groaned, half exasperated, half amused.
“Him again. We should muzzle him.”
Loric burst out laughing.
“Uncle Drake, I’m going to be strong too!”
Drake crouched down, ruffling his hair.
“You’ll be more than a Beta, little prince of chaos. You’ll be my personal successor.”
Caleb rolled his eyes.
“Not a chance. You already give me enough gray hairs as it is.”
Behind them, Soraya sighed gracefully.
“If he’s your successor, Drake, I truly hope Kaelan inherits enough seriousness to balance it out.”
“Touché,” Drake replied with a cheeky wink.
The tension melted away, replaced with laughter and a much-needed lightness.
The next morning
The morning sun bathed Sacred Moon’s training grounds in gold. Warriors were already warming up under Viggo’s watch when a small figure slipped behind a stack of crates.
Beside him, crouched with all the gravity of a seasoned strategist, Drake whispered:
“Operation ‘Beta’s Eye Junior’ begins now. Ready, Agent Loric?”
The boy nodded solemnly, pulling out a notebook and crayon Elora had given him.
“Ready, Uncle Drake.”
Drake grinned proudly and tapped his shoulder.
“Rule number one: always write everything down. Nothing is too small. Even the silliest detail can change the course of a mission.”
Loric stuck out his tongue in concentration and scribbled:
“9:12 AM: The big bearded wolf sneaks a honey toast behind the tree.”
“Excellent,” Drake whispered mysteriously. “That’s vital intel. If supplies ever run low, we’ll know who’s hiding a secret stash of toast.”
Loric’s eyes widened seriously.
“Should we steal it?”
Drake stifled a laugh.
“Not yet. We’ll keep that as a secret weapon. A Beta always keeps a card up his sleeve.”
A few meters away, Viggo suddenly turned, frowning toward their hiding spot. With exaggerated urgency, Drake pulled Loric down with him.
“Camouflage!” he ordered in a harsh whisper.
Loric giggled, muffling it quickly against his uncle’s shoulder.
“This is Beta training?” came a voice from behind.
Both spies froze. Caleb stood there, arms crossed, a wry smile playing on his lips. In his mind, Handres chuckled in amusement.
Unfazed, Drake straightened and declared:
“Strategic surveillance, Alpha. You should be thanking me. Your future Beta will be ready to unmask every secret toast-muncher in the kingdom.”
Caleb raised a brow.
“You’re not turning him into a spy, are you?”
Loric proudly held up his notebook.
“I’ve already got three pages, Daddy!”
Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose, half exasperated, half amused, while Drake shot him a triumphant wink.