Chapter 96 KAEL RETURNS
KAEL’S POV
The moon feels wrong.
I notice it before anyone says a word, before the sentries shift uneasily on the walls, before the wolves begin to falter in their drills. It is not the shape of it. Not the brightness. It is the weight.
Or rather, the lack of it.
For as long as I have lived, the moon has been a presence. Not comfort. Not mercy. Authority. A pressure that settles into the bones and reminds a wolf who he is and where he stands. It has always answered me. Even when I hated it. Even when I rejected what it demanded.
Tonight, it does not answer at all.
I stand on the balcony overlooking SilverMist’s inner grounds, hands resting on the cold stone, and stare up at the sky. The moon hangs there, full but unconvincing, its glow thin, its edges uncertain. It flickers in a way no wolf should ever witness.
Around me, the pack moves out of rhythm.
A warrior misses a step and snarls in frustration. Another grips his arm as if fighting an invisible weight. A third stares up at the sky with naked fear before forcing his gaze down again.
They feel it.
They are just afraid to name it.
My wolf shifts uneasily beneath my skin, pacing, restless, confused. He presses against my ribs like he is searching for a door that no longer exists.
Something is wrong with the moon.
And if the moon is weakening, then so is she.
The thought hits harder than it should.
Selene.
I have tried not to think her name. Tried to carve it out of myself with discipline and rage and pride. I told myself I rejected her because she was weak. Because she could not stand beside me. Because I needed a Luna who would not bend.
That was the lie I fed my pack.
The truth is quieter and far more poisonous.
I could not stand beside her because she would have been stronger than me.
A presence approaches behind me, sharp and cold and familiar.
Lyra does not announce herself. She never does. She moves like ambition given a body, quiet until she chooses to be seen. Her hand settles lightly on my arm, nails pressing just enough to remind me she is there.
“You feel it,” she says.
It is not a question.
“Yes,” I answer.
She follows my gaze to the moon. Her lips curve, not in fear, but in calculation. “The Goddess is loosening her grip.”
My jaw tightens. “Or shifting it.”
“Either way,” Lyra replies smoothly, “Selene is unstable.”
The name lands between us like a blade dropped point-first.
I turn to face her. “You do not know that.”
Lyra lifts one brow. “Every seer between here and the western ravines knows it. Wolves are losing their connection. The moon flickers. And the girl carrying divine fire is suddenly quiet.”
She steps closer, her voice lowering. “That is not strength, Kael. That is vulnerability.”
My wolf snarls at her certainty.
“She is not a girl,” I say sharply.
Lyra smiles, thin and pleased, like she has found a crack she can widen. “Then all the better reason to strike now.”
The word strike echoes unpleasantly in my skull.
She continues before I can respond. “Blackridge is unsettled. Damien is distracted. His authority is fraying. Selene’s bond to the moon is changing, and everyone feels it. This is the moment you have been waiting for.”
Waiting.
I have waited for many things.
For power. For recognition. For my father’s shadow to finally lift.
I have waited to forget Selene.
Lyra’s hand slides to my chest. “You take her now,” she murmurs. “While she cannot fully defend herself. While the Goddess is distracted. Kill her, or capture her, and the power will settle where it belongs.”
I look back at the moon.
It flickers again, weaker than before.
Something in my gut twists, sharp and unwelcome.
If Selene is losing the moon, then killing her will not end the prophecy.
It will only complete it.
“No,” I say.
The word surprises both of us.
Lyra stills. Slowly, she withdraws her hand. “What did you say?”
“I said no.” My voice is steady, but my wolf paces harder now, agitated. “If the moon is breaking, charging into Blackridge will not make me king. It will make me a fool.”
Lyra studies me closely, her expression unreadable. “You hesitate.”
“I think,” I snap. “That is the difference between us.”
Her eyes darken. “You are afraid.”
The accusation lands, but it does not bite the way she expects.
“I am cautious,” I reply. “There is a difference.”
Lyra laughs softly. “There is no throne for caution.”
“Then perhaps there should be,” I say.
Silence stretches between us.
For the first time since she arrived at my side, I feel it. The subtle shift. The hairline fracture in authority. She senses it too.
Her smile returns, but it is colder now. Sharper. “Very well, my Alpha. Wait. Watch. Hesitate.”
She steps back, already withdrawing from the conversation. “But understand this.”
I meet her gaze.
“If you do not move soon, someone else will.”
She turns and leaves without another word.
I remain on the balcony long after she is gone, the night air biting at my skin.
Below, SilverMist continues to fracture quietly. Wolves stumble. Tempers shorten. Whispers coil through the halls like smoke.
Far beyond the edge of the forest, beyond territory lines and watchful borders, something shifts.
I feel it without knowing how. There is no voice in my head, no vision clawing at my sight. Just a pressure that settles low in my body, heavy and unmistakable, like the moment before a storm breaks open the sky.
My wolf reacts before I do.
He stills.
Not with fear or fury, but with a sudden, unnatural restraint, every instinct drawing inward as if bracing against something vast. The silence inside me is so abrupt it steals my breath.
This pull does not come from Selene.
That is the part that makes my spine tighten.
It comes from the moon itself, from the fracture spreading through whatever ancient balance once held it steady. Something has noticed the weakness. Something old enough to remember the moon before it belonged to gods or wolves or prophecy.
It does not reach for me.
It does not demand.
It simply becomes aware.
The moon flickers overhead, its light thinning until the sky feels wrong without it. I wait for the familiar surge, the steadying presence that has guided wolves since before memory. It does not return.