Chapter 91 The Anchor
LUCA
We waited with bated breaths for him to speak.
“I can’t tell.” Bardon increased the intensity of whatever he was doing. His voice was more strained when he continued. “You can do that from now till eternity and you won’t get anything because he protected that information specifically.” Cyrus grinned through bloody teeth. “But he’s coming. Soon. And when he does, all your precious unity will burn.”
“Secure him,” I ordered. “And those accomplices. I want them in the most heavily warded cells we have.”
Sage and Ryker dragged Cyrus away. He was still rambling, saying things about his promised immortality and how we can’t stop them.
I turned to Arya. “Are you alright?”
“No. My evil ancestor who practiced blood magic is apparently still alive and trying to return to power. I’m very much not alright.” She leaned against me. “But I’m alive. We stopped the ritual. That’s something.”
“It’s everything.” I held her close. “We’ll deal with this Mordecai threat together.”
“He’s also a Moonborne. Powerful enough to have nearly destroyed the family at its height. How do we fight that?”
“The same way we’ve fought everything else. Together, strategically, and with a complete disregard for the odds.” I kissed her forehead. “But first, we’re going back to the estate. You’re exhausted, I’m exhausted, and we both need rest before facing down ancient evil relatives.”
“I can’t rest. There’s too much to do. Security to increase. Wards to reinforce. Investigations to—”
“Those can all wait eight hours while we sleep.” I started leading her toward the exit. “Arya, you just fought off a dark magic ritual and cleansed the Moonwell a second time. You’re allowed to rest.”
“Fine. But eight hours. Then we’re back to work.”
My mind kept running, thinking we’d probably just traded one threat foe anothe. A much powerful abd more ruthless one.
Theron had wanted to destroy unity through violence. This Mordecai wanted something more complex. Something that required the Moonwell pure and the unity movement established.
He had long term plans for whatever goal he hoped to achieve. And we’d just become unwitting participants in them.
“What are you thinking?” Arya asked.
“That we really can’t catch a break.”
“Apparently not.” She squeezed my hand. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do.”
“Your optimism is disturbing.”
“Your pessimism is exhausting.”
“We balance each other out.”
“We really do.”
I smiled. We did balance each other. And together, we’d face down ancient evil relatives and save unity. Again.
Because apparently, that was just our life now.
Might as well get used to it.
ARYA
I couldn’t sleep. Whenever I close my eyes, i see my ancestor’s name written in blood across my mind.
Mordecai Moonborne.
The family’s greatest shame. The one who’d turned to blood magic and nearly destroyed everything. The one my great-great-grandmother had supposedly killed to save the bloodline.
Except she hadn’t killed him. She’d banished him. And that was a mistake we were going to pay for.
“Stop,” Luca murmured beside me, his arm tightening around my waist. “I can feel you spiraling.”
“I’m descended from a monster.”
“You’re descended from humans. All humans have monsters in their family trees.” He pulled me closer. “It doesn’t define you.”
“Doesn’t it? I have his blood. His power. What if I’m capable of the same darkness?”
“You’re capable of anything. That’s what makes you powerful.” He turned me to face him. “But capability doesn’t equal inevitability. You choose who you are. Not your ancestors.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’ve lived eight hundred years. I’ve seen countless people struggle with their heritage, their bloodlines, their family legacies. And the ones who become monsters are the ones who decide that’s their only option.” His thumb brushed my cheekbone. “You’ve never chosen darkness. Even when it would have been easier, you chose light.”
“But what if—”
“No what-ifs. No spiraling. You are Aeliana Moonborne, and you’re exactly who you choose to be. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
I wanted to believe him, to accept that my ancestor’s sins weren’t my burden to carry.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mordecai’s return was somehow my fault. That by cleansing the Moonwell, by reclaiming my heritage, I’d opened a door that should have stayed closed.
“Tell me about him,” I said. “What do we know?”
Luca sighed but didn’t argue. He understood I needed information to process this, not just comfort even though i appreciated it, and him.
“According to the historical records Bardon found, Mordecai was your great-great-great uncle. Brilliant, charismatic, and completely obsessed with immortality.” He sat up, and I followed suit. “He believed the Moonborne bloodline was being wasted on peacekeeping and diplomacy. Thought they should rule absolutely, with power maintained through whatever means necessary.”
“Including blood magic.”
“Especialy blood magic. He started with animals, then moved to willing subjects who believed in his vision. But willing subjects weren’t enough.” Luca’s expression darkened. “He started taking people. Experimenting on them. Using their life force to fuel his immortality research.”
My stomach turned. “How many?”
“Records suggest at least two hundred confirmed victims. Probably more that were never documented.” He took my hand. “Your great-great-grandmother tried to stop him peacefully. Offered him exile, treatment, anything to end it without bloodshed. He responded by trying to kill her.”
“So she fought back.”
“She fought back. The battle destroyed half the Moonborne city. Hundreds died in the crossfire. Eventually, she managed to trap him in a void spell, a type of magic that’s been lost to time. It was supposed to be permanent and unbreakable.”
“But he’s breaking it anyway.”
“Apparently.” Luca’s jaw tightened. “Which means he’s either incredibly powerful or incredibly clever. Possibly both.”
“And now he wants the Moonwell. Why?”
“Power, probably. The Moonwell is the source of Moonborne magic. If he could bind it to himself, control it—” Luca didn’t finish. That alone made me shiver.
The thought of someone so evil having access to untapped power like that.
“He’d be unstoppable.”
“Potentially.” luca shook his head. “But he doesn’t have the Moonwell. You stopped that. Whatever anchor he’s found, whatever way back he’s planning, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“That’s what we need to figure out.”
A knock on the door interrupted us. Bardon entered without waiting for permission, his expression grave.
“We have a problem. Multiple problems, actually, but one very pressing issue.”
“What now?” Luca asked with a growl.
“I’ve been researching void spells, trying to understand how Mordecai could be breaking his prison.” Bardon pulled out ancient texts, spreading them across our bed. “The spell your ancestor used was nearly perfect. It should have held him indefinitely.”
“But?”
“But void spells have a weakness. They require a living anchor, someone connected to the spell caster by blood who maintains the binding through their existence.” He looked at me. “Your great-great-grandmother was that anchor. When she died, the spell began to weaken.”
“That was centuries ago. Why is he only breaking free now?”