Chapter 15 Last Moonborne
ARYA
I woke to sunlight streaming across my face and the smell of bacon wafting up from downstairs.
For a moment I forgot where I was. Forgot everything that had happened.
Then reality crashed back, and with it came the dull ache of grief.
The digital clock showed 9:47 a.m. I’d slept later than I had in years.
Out of habit, I turned my phone on and saw all the things I’ve missed.
There were 127 new messages. I didn’t even look at them. Just muted all notifications and got dressed and headed downstairs where I found Ryker in the kitchen with Alpha Cyrus and a woman I assumed was his mate. She’d been in all the pictures that lined most of the walls in the house. Luna Helena was a petite and dark-haired beautiful woman with beautiful bronze skin and laugh lines around her eyes.
“Good morning!” She greeted me warmly, pushing a plate toward an empty seat. “I hope you like pancakes. Cyrus says I make too many, but I think that’s impossible.”
“Thank you.” I sat, suddenly ravenous. When had I last eaten?
“How did you sleep?” Cyrus asked, more serious now.
“Eventually.” I met his eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why are you helping us? You don’t know me. You’re not obligated—”
“Bardon asked me to. That’s reason enough.” He leaned back in his chair. “But also? I don’t like bullies. And from what I understand, your former Alpha is exactly that.”
“He’s not a bully,” I said automatically, then stopped and shook my head. I was so used to jumping to his defence, creatjing excuses for him in my head and to people. The few who have bee bold enough to point out how he was wrong for the things he did.
I shrugged, bringing myself back to the present. “Or… maybe he is. I don’t know anymore.”
“That’s the problem with emotional abuse,” Helena said gently. “It makes you doubt everything, even your own perceptions.”
She understood. Somehow, she understood.
“How long can we stay?” Ryker asked.
“As long as you need.” Cyrus’s voice was firm. “You’re under my protection now. Both of you. If Jaime wants to challenge that, he can take it up with me.”
“He won’t,” I said quietly. “He’s too smart to start a territorial dispute over a wife he doesn’t want.”
“His loss.” Helena stood, refilling my coffee with a maternal smile on her lips. “Now, eat. Then we need to discuss what comes next.”
What came next turned out to be a meeting in Cyrus’s office. It was less intimidating than Jaime’s, with bookshelves covering every wall and a fireplace crackling cheerfully. Like everything else in the house, it felt warm and welcming.
“The separation will take time to process through the High Court,” Cyrus explained, pulling out files. “Normally, it would be handled by your pack’s council, but since Bardon invoked Lycan Law, it goes through official channels. Fairer, but slower.”
“How long?”
“Three to six months, typically.”
Six months. Half a year of being in limbo, still technically tied to Jaime.
“Can she stay here that whole time?” Ryker asked.
“If she wants to. Or…” Marcus looked at me carefully. “Bardon mentioned something interesting. About your lineage.”
My hand went automatically to the amulet. “What about it?”
“Your grandmother was Moonborne. That’s a powerful bloodline. One that supposedly died out twenty-three years ago.”
“Supposedly?” my mind blanked out.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” He smiled slightly. “Which means at least one Moonborne survived. And if the old legends are true, that makes you very important to a lot of people.”
“What legends?”
Cyrus and Helena exchanged a look.
“The Moonborne line were the original rulers,” Helena said softly. “Before the split between Lycans and wolves, before the territories were divided. They were the ones who maintained balance and created rule and order.”
“And they were hunted to extinction by those who wanted that power for themselves,” Cyrus continued. “Your grandmother fled with you as a baby. Hid you with suppression magic.”
He gestured to my amulet.
“That thing is probably the only reason you’re still alive.”
My head was spinning. “I don’t understand. If I’m so important, why didn’t my grandmother tell me? Why hide it?”
“Because knowing would have made you a target.” A new voice spoke from the doorway.
We all turned.
Councilman Bardon stood there, looking older in the morning light and tired.
“I’m sorry for the intrusion, Cyrus. But we need to talk. All of us.” His eyes found mine. “Because Arya’s former pack isn’t the only thing she needs to worry about anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Ryker was on his feet, protective.
“I mean that her emergence, her presence here, away from the suppression magic that’s been hiding her has been felt.” Bardon entered fully, closing the door behind him. “The Lycan King knows a Moonborne lives. And he’s very, very interested in meeting her.”
My stomach dropped. “Why?”
“Because according to an ancient prophecy, a Moonborne heir will unite the Lycans and wolves. And in another, will be the end of the lycan hierarchy.” Bardon’s expression was grave. “And the Lycan King has been waiting eight hundred years for that prophecy to be fulfilled.”
“That’s insane,” I whispered.
“Is it?” Bardon pulled out a scroll, ancient and yellowed. “The prophecy is very specific. ‘When the last Moonborne awakens, when her wolf finally emerges, she will bridge the divide and bring peace to both kingdoms.’” He looked at me. “You’re the last Moonborne, Arya. And your wolf is about to emerge.”