Chapter 53 Return to Halecrest

Chapter 53 Return to Halecrest
53: Return to Halecrest

The city of Halecrest never truly slept much more that Dravenmoor. Even at midnight, its towers gleamed with silver light, and the streets whispered with faint magic from the wards that wove through every stone.

As Rowan carried me through the northern gate, the sentries lowered their heads in silent recognition. No one dared to question why their Alpha was walking through the woods with a half-torn cloak and a woman in his arms.

I buried my face against his shoulder, not out of affection but out of exhaustion. The adrenaline had faded, leaving behind the trembling ache of everything I had tried to run from.

The smell of cedar clung to him, cool and clean. His heartbeat was steady against my cheek, unbothered, infuriatingly calm.

"You can put me down now," I muttered, though it came out softer than I meant.

He did not answer. The marble path under his boots echoed faintly as we entered the inner courtyard. The fountains glowed with the light of floating orbs, and silver blossoms floated on the water’s surface, perfumed and perfect, just like everything else in Silvermoon.

It was beautiful. It was suffocating.

When he finally stopped, it was in front of my chamber doors. The guards stationed there straightened, confusion flickering in their eyes before Rowan gave a curt nod that dismissed them.

He carried me inside without a word. The doors closed behind us, sealing the quiet.

Only then did he set me down gently on the edge of the bed. His hands lingered for a moment, steadying me as if afraid I would vanish again.

I met his gaze. His eyes were the color of mist over moonlight, unreadable, the kind of calm that could either soothe or destroy.

"Thank you," I said, because it was all I could manage.

Rowan looked at me for a long time. Then, softly, "You really intended to leave."

It was not an accusation. It was almost wonder.
I hesitated, my throat dry. "Yes."

He exhaled quietly, moving to the window. Moonlight spilled over his hair, turning it almost white. "Do you hate this place that much?"

I looked down at my hands, still faintly glowing from the magic that had flared in the forest. "No. I just don’t belong here."

His voice was quiet, low enough that I almost missed it. "You sound like her again."

"Aria," I said, not asking this time.

He turned his head slightly, and in that small movement I saw something break in his composure. "She used to say that too. That she was only visiting. That this wasn’t her world. I did not believe her until she disappeared."

The air between us thickened with memory that wasn’t mine.

"I am not her, Rowan."
"I know." His lips curved into a faint, tired smile. "But sometimes I forget."

The silence that followed was heavier than any argument.

Finally, he crossed the room and poured two glasses of moonwine from the decanter by the table. The liquid shimmered like liquid starlight. He handed me one, sitting across from me.

"For the pain," he said.

"I thought you already healed it."

"Physical wounds," he said quietly, "are easier to fix than the other kind."

I took the glass anyway. The wine was cold and slightly sweet, like frost dissolving on the tongue.

Rowan leaned back, watching me. "You risked crossing the veil. Do you even understand what happens if the barrier breaks completely?"

"I do now," I said. "It’s not just a wall. It’s a prison. One built by the goddess to keep Dravenmoor sealed."

"And you think you can free it?"

"I have to try."

He stared at me for a long time. "Because of him."

My fingers tightened around the glass. "Because of the curse," I corrected, though we both knew what I meant.

Rowan’s jaw flexed. The light caught the faint scar beneath his left eye, a mark I had never noticed before. "You think you are saving him, but you are also risking yourself. If you fall, no one will pull you back."

"Then I will climb out," I said, forcing a weak smile.
Something flickered in his expression. For a moment, the Alpha vanished, and the man underneath looked almost human, almost hurt.

"You remind me of her too much," he whispered.

I set the glass down. "Then stop looking at me like I am her."

He laughed softly, though it was without humor. "I would, if I could."

The sound faded into the stillness. Outside, the wind carried the faint notes of music from the festival still happening in the lower city. It felt like another world entirely, one where people could laugh and dance without worrying about divine curses or broken fates.

Rowan rose, walking to the balcony. The moonlight silvered his profile, painting him in quiet tragedy. "You could have died tonight."

"I didn’t."

"You could have," he said again, more sharply. Then, softer, "Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?"

The words startled me. For the first time since I had met him, his composure cracked fully. His hand gripped the railing hard enough that frost bloomed beneath his fingers.

I stood, unsure of what to say. "Rowan..."

He turned to me. "You look at me, and I see her. You speak, and I hear her voice. And yet you are not her. I know that, but the heart does not obey logic."

He took a step closer, his voice lowering. "Tell me, Keira. What am I supposed to do with that?"

I swallowed hard. "Maybe remember that I never asked to be her replacement."

That silenced him.

A long moment passed. Then he nodded, as if conceding some invisible battle. "You are right."

He stepped back, the distance between us returning like a sigh. "Rest. I will make sure no one knows you were gone."

"Why?"

"Because I am tired of losing people who try to run away," he said simply.

Something twisted painfully in my chest. "You make it sound like I am already gone."

"Maybe you are," he said quietly, and turned to leave.

The door closed softly behind him.

I sank onto the bed, staring at the half-empty glass of wine. My reflection shimmered faintly on its surface. For a second, I thought I saw Lucian’s eyes instead of mine.

The room felt too quiet. Too still.

I walked to the balcony, letting the cold air brush against my face. The moon hung huge and white over the horizon, patient and unblinking. Somewhere out there, beyond the veil, Lucian was waiting. I could feel it that strange, magnetic pull that had never faded.

"Just hold on," I whispered. "I’ll find a way."
The wind carried no answer, only the faint echo of my own voice.

Then, faintly, I heard something the rustle of feathers. I looked down and saw a small glimmer of light land on the railing. Elyndor. The fae’s translucent wings shimmered like glass.

"You are persistent, little moon," it said softly.

I let out a shaky laugh. "You think?"

"The Alpha saved you tonight," it murmured. "But not even he can protect you from what is coming."

My chest tightened. "Then tell me what I need to do."

Elyndor’s expression dimmed. "There will be a masquerade soon. When the moon turns red again, the veil will weaken. That is your chance. But beware, little one. Love has never been the goddess’s gift. It was her curse."

Before I could ask more, the fae vanished in a shimmer of light.

I stood there alone, the cold biting through the silk of my dress. Below, the city glittered like a sea of stars, beautiful and indifferent.

Inside, the faintest scent of cedar lingered Rowan’s scent.

I closed my eyes, caught between two worlds, two men, and two fates I never asked to carry.
And under the unblinking gaze of the moon, I made a silent promise.
Next time, I would not just escape.
Next time, I would end it.