Chapter 20 The Silvermoon Journey
Lira's POV
Dawn came too soon and not soon enough. I'd spent the night tossing in my bed, hyperaware of Kael's presence somewhere in the packhouse. The bond made it impossible to ignore his every emotion, every restless movement echoed through our connection.
I'd felt him pacing. Felt his struggle with wolf instincts that demanded he come to me, claim me properly, hold me through the night. And I'd felt his iron will forcing those instincts down.
Stubborn alpha, Selwyn muttered in my mind.
Stubborn male, I corrected silently, glaring at Kael's broad back.
Now I stood in the courtyard with our small traveling party—myself, Kael, Thomas, Aria, and two other wolves I didn't recognize. Saddled horses stamped restlessly against the cobblestones. The morning air was crisp, carrying the sharp bite of autumn and the promise of a hard ride ahead.
"Ready?" Kael asked, adjusting the strap of his saddle. He didn't quite meet my eyes, his tone clipped, professional.
"As ready as someone can be to visit the place where her parents died," I answered, my voice steady even though my stomach churned.
His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. Through the mate bond, I caught a flash of protectiveness—sharp, raw—before he shoved it down, locking it behind the wall of his alpha control.
"Stay close during the ride," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. "Silvermoon territory has been lawless for twenty years. Rogues, bandits, or even worse things."
I lifted an eyebrow as I swung into my saddle. "Worse things?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, though the knot of unease in my chest grew tighter.
"Revenants," Kael said, mounting his horse with fluid ease. His voice was so neutral. "Wolves who died violently and couldn't move on. They're drawn to old battlefields."
Wonderful, I thought, suppressing a shiver.
Aria crossed herself instinctively at the word, muttering a prayer under her breath, while Thomas spat into the dirt as if to ward off bad luck. The two unnamed wolves exchanged wary glances, clearly unsettled.
We rode hard through the morning, hooves striking sparks on the stone road before the ground softened into earth. The landscape shifted slowly, pine forests thinning into rockier terrain, jagged cliffs and scrubland announcing the border of Silvermoon territory.
With each mile, I felt something stirring in me—like recognition or memory carried in the marrow of my bones, passed down through generations.
Home, Selwyn whispered in the back of my mind, the ancestral wolf's voice reverent.
When I was home, I corrected grimly. Twenty years ago.
But my wolf was right. Despite the desolation, despite knowing what had happened here, some part of me responded to this land like I belonged to it.
"We'll stop at the old archives first," Kael called back to me. "If there are any records of what happened, they'd be there."
The archives turned out to be a stone building that had weathered the years better than most. Ivy covered its walls, and the wooden door hung askew on rusted hinges, but the structure was intact.
Inside, shelves lined the walls, most empty but some still holding leather-bound volumes. Dust motes danced in the light shining through broken windows.
"Here." Aria's voice was soft with wonder. "This section is marked 'Luna Records.'"
I approached the shelf with trembling hands. Most of the books were too damaged to read, but one slim volume caught my eye. The leather cover was tooled with silver thread—a crescent moon surrounded by stars.
Vera Ashborne was written in faded ink on the spine.
"My mother's journal," I breathed.
I pulled it from the shelf carefully, afraid it might crumble at my touch. But the leather was well-preserved, and when I opened it, my mother's handwriting flowed across the pages in deep blue ink.
The first entry was dated just weeks before my birth.
"The dreams are getting stronger. I see her face so clearly now—my daughter, the one the prophecy speaks of. Born under eclipse, marked by moonfire. But the visions show me two paths, two possible futures.
In one, she brings the packs together, unites the bloodlines, ushers in an age of peace.
In the other... goddess help us all. In the other, she burns everything to ash and starts over."
My hands shook as I read. "She knew. She knew what I might become."
Kael moved to read over my shoulder, his warmth a comfort despite the tension between us. Through the bond, I felt his concern.
"Keep reading," he said quietly.
"Dmitri thinks I'm being paranoid, but I can feel them watching. The Darkfang scouts, the political maneuvering. They know about the prophecy too, and they're afraid.
Fear makes people do terrible things. If something happens to us, if they come for our daughter, I pray she finds the strength to choose the path of light. But I fear... I fear the darkness they've already planned for her will make that choice impossible.
Hidden in the eastern wall of the archives, behind the loose stone marked with our family crest. Everything she needs to know. Everything I couldn't teach her myself."
"The eastern wall," I whispered, looking around.
Thomas was already moving, running his hands along the stone. "Here," he called. "There's a stone with a crescent carved into it."
He worked at it with his knife until it came loose, revealing a small cavity behind. Inside was another book, this one bound in midnight-blue leather, and a small silver pendant shaped like a wolf.
I opened the second book, and my mother's voice seemed to speak directly to me:
My dearest daughter,
If you're reading this, then the worst has happened. Your father and I are gone, and you've been left to face your destiny alone.
You are the last of the Moonblood line, but that doesn't make you a weapon to be feared. It makes you a bridge between worlds, a chance for our people to evolve beyond the old ways of territory and dominance.
The pendant belonged to your grandmother, and her grandmother before that. It will help you channel your power safely when the time comes. But remember—power without wisdom is destruction. Power without love is tyranny.
Choose love, my daughter. Choose it even when the world gives you every reason not to.
The curse they fear isn't in your blood. It's in their choices. Show them a different way.
Forever yours, Vera