Chapter 19 The Lunar Gathering (2)
Malia's POV
The Grand Hall falls silent.
All talk ceased..All the heads swiveled eagerly to the main screen at the front of the room one that boast a giant display, normally reserved for presentations or bringing news.
But at the moment, it's a video.
Of me. My blood runs cold.
The video is blurry, obviously filmed by someone using a phone, but the photo is clear: me in the training yard during the First Shift Trial, trying to shift, my wolf almost coming out before hiding away completely.
But that's not the worst thing, somebody has tampered with it. Added slow-motion effect to drive every tumble, every mistake, home.
Added text overlays:
"HYBRID TRASH"
"TOO WEAK TO BELONG"
"MOONCREST'S CHARITY CASE"
And for the worst of it—audio.
My voice, vibrating and pleading: "I'm sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Looped. Over and over.
Sorry—Sorry—Sorry––
The room erupts in whispers, some people laugh.
Others avert their eyes, uncomfortable but non-committal.
And there are some, such as Lydia, standing near the front with Dina and Beretta, who do so with unconcealed delight.
I can't move, can't breathe!
I can't think. I was so humiliated, the worst moment of my life, played on a huge screen for everyone to see - students, faculty, parents, pack leaders.
Everyone.
“Turn it off” Rowan says sharply, as he strides toward the AV booth.
But the harm has been done. It's been seen by all
The hybrid that can’t shift properly.
The opportunist wolf who doesn’t belong.
The girl whose wolf hides from her.
My vision is obscured with tears. I won't let them fall. Not here. Don’t do it in front of them.
The video clips—Rowan must have gotten to the controls—but the silence that takes over afterward pans out ever worse.
Then Lydia's voice cuts through, honeyed feigned concern.
“Oh my god Malia! I’m so sorry you had to see that.”
She is approaching me now, her white dress billowing gracefully, her face that of a conditioned sympathetic.
“I'm not sure who could be that cruel,” she adds, projecting so that all can hear. "Releasing private training footage like that. It’s so—"
"Stop."
Even though I don’t feel it, my voice is stronger.
Lydia stops, blinks innocently. "I’m just trying to—"
"No, you’re not."I push myself up, to look at her, even if my legs refuse to hold me. "You did this. Everyone knows you did this."
Gasps ripple through the crowd. For a fraction of a second Lydia's mask drops - a flash of icy calculation.
Then the act of innocence returns. “That's a serious accusation. Do you have proof?"
I don't. Of course I don't. She’s too clever for them to leave traces!
“I don’t need proof,” I whisper. “We all know exactly who you are, Lydia, Everyone in this room knows who you are. They’re just too scared to tell you that.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously.
Then she takes another step forward — and her foot “catches” on her gown. She stumbles straight into me, a glass of red wine clutched in her hand.
I watch it all unfold in slow motion.
The wine flying through the air. Splattered across the front of July's gorgeous blue dress.
Soaked through, turning it a dark red, destroying it completely.
The room goes quiet again.
Lydia gasps theatrically, covered a hand over her mouth. "Oh no! I'm so sorry! My heel got caught — I didn't —"
But there’s a different story her eyes tell.
Cold, triumphant, satisfied. This was the plan all along, the video was just the lure.
This—public humiliation, having her dress ruined, standing here with a wine stain on her dress while everyone watches—is the true strike.
I look down at the stain now spreading across the dress.
July's dress.
The one she lent me because I didn’t have the money for one of my own. Now ruined. Something snaps inside me.
Not loudly, quietly.
Like a thread snapping under too much weight.
"I'm so clumsy," Lydia says again, her voice carrying across the now completely silent room. "Let me help you clean—
"Don't touch me."
My voice is cold.
Lydia backs up, still in character. "I was just trying to help—"
“No, you weren’t.” I’m shaking now — with anger, humiliation, something darker. “You were trying to destroy me. And you know what?
Congratulations. You win.”
I turn to leave, desperate to get out before the tears fall. But I don’t get two steps before a voice cuts across the room.
“That’s enough.”
Cold. Commanding. Unmistakably Aiden.
I freeze.
The crowd separates as Aiden comes forward, his face a mask of ice, his blues eyes ablaze with barely restrained rage.
He’s not even looking at me, he’s looking at Lydia..And the domination radiating from him makes a handful of students visibly flinch.
"Aiden," Lydia says, her voice suddenly unsure. "I didn’t—it was an accident—"
"It wasn’t." He halts abruptly in front of her. "And it’s not like we don’t both know that."
"I don’t know what you—"
“The video. The wine. This pathetic masquerade of cruelty masquerading as clumsiness.” His voice is soft, but deadly. "It’s beneath you, Lydia. “Actually, no. That’s right at your level, isn’t it?
Which is apparently very, very low.”
The room seems to hold its breath.
Lydia’s whole face flushes — humiliation and rage crossing her features. "You're defending her? A hybrid? Over me?"
"I'm standing up for simple politeness. Something you obviously don't have."
"My family—"
"Your family’s money doesn’t entitle you to make people’s lives miserable." Aiden’s voice becomes even lower, more threatening. “And if you ever do something like that again, I will be more than happy to show you just how much power my family really has.”
It’s a threat. Clear and unmistakable.
Lydia’s mouth opens and closes, her words not escaping.
Dina and Beretta have recoiled from her, now all too fascinated by the floor. Students frantically whisper around us.
“Aiden Moonfall just defended the hybrid?”
"Against Lydia Ashford?"
"What’s going on?"
Aiden finally looks at me.
His features relax just a little – just enough that I can make out worry under the icy rage.
"Are you okay?" he quietly inquires.
I can't talk. Can't believe what just happened.
Aiden Moonfall - the one who told me to stay away from his brothers, the one who makes me feel like an obstacle, who he shoves me away from every time - has just publicly stood up for me.
Disgraced Lydia for the whole of the earth to see.
He even wielded his family name like a club in my defence.
"I—" My voice catches. "The dress. July's dress. I ruined—"
"I'll replace it." His tone is without pleading. "Ten times over if I must."
"You don’t have to—"
"I know." There is something that flickers in his eyes. "But I want to."
The time elongates between us. All eyes are on the whole room.
Then Cian is at my other side, as silent as ever, his jacket still resting on my shoulders.
“We should go,” he says quietly. “Before this becomes some kind of spectacle.”
Rowan gets through the crowd, his face furious. “I’m going to kill whoever made that video—”
“Later,” Cian interrupts. “Right now, Malia’s got to get out.”
He’s right. I need to get out of here before I lose it completely. Aiden steps back and gives me a wide berth. "Go. I'll handle this," he said.
“Handle what?"
“Damage control. Make sure the video is deleted. Make sure there are consequences.” His jaw tightens. “Leave it to me.”
Before I get the chance to argue – or thank him, or ask why he’s doing this – Rowan takes my arm gently.
"Let's go. Let's get you out of here."
Cian comes to my other side, silent and protective.
Together, they escort me out of the Grand Hall.
I hear behind us Aiden's voice, cold and authoritative as he addresses the room:
"If you have any copies of that video on those servers, delete them. For now. And if I learn somebody’s distributing it, there will be hell to pay. Is that clear?”
Silence.
Then murmurs of agreement.
Because a Moonfall when she speaks, they listen.
—-----
Outside, the cold night air struck me like a slap in the face. I swallow hard and try not to panic or think about what just happened.
"I'm going to kill Lydia," Rowan growls through clenched teeth. "Slowly. Painfully."
"Join the queue," Cian mutters.
I laugh—a broken, slightly hysterical sound. “You can’t kill her. Basically, she’s royalty.”
"Then we'll make it look like an accident." He was trying to make me feel better.
Still, that makes me smile.
We’re silent for a few moments as we walk toward the dorm. But I pause.
"Why did he do that?"
Rowan and Cian exchange glances.
"Do what?" Rowan inquires cautiously.
"Protect me. Threaten Lydia. Use his family name to protect me. " I watch between them. "He hates me. And he’s made that clear. So why—”
"He doesn’t hate your,” Cian said quietly.
"Then what—"
"It's complicated," Rowan interrupts gently. "Aiden is… he's fighting something. Something he can’t figure out how to deal with."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Neither of those is true. But the glance they share says it all. They know what they are doing.
Something about Aiden.
Something in me. Something he isn’t really ready to say.
I was just going to start pushing for answers when my phone buzzes.
A text from a number I don’t know:
You made it through round one. But this isn’t over. Watch your back.
I'm frozen with fear.
"What is it?" Rowan asks as he sees my face.
I show him the text.
His face darkens. “That’s the same number from before?”
“A different number. The same basic message.”
Cian takes my phone treating the text with a furrowed brow. “Someone’s after you. Specifically.”
“You think?” I laugh bitterly. “Between the video, the wine and now threatening texts, I’d say that’s pretty clear.”
“This isn’t just Lydia’s petty jealousy,” Cian tells me as he gives me my phone back. “This is intentional. Pre meditated.”
“What are you saying?”
“I'm saying—” He stops, weighing each word. "Be careful, Malia. Something bigger is happening here. And you're at the center of it.”