Chapter 152 The Missing Luna
The Remembrance Hall settled into uneasy quiet after Mira’s abrupt exit. Guests exchanged glances, elders muttered among themselves, and the air thickened with unspoken tension. Fernando stood rigid on the dais, his expression carefully neutral, though his fingers twitched slightly at his sides. Alberto remained beside him, posture calm but eyes scanning the room with quiet alertness.
Darius stepped forward then, clearing his throat to draw attention. He bowed slightly to the assembly, his voice steady and apologetic. “My deepest apologies for the earlier disruption. Mira has been under great strain preparing for today’s rites. It seems her health finally gave way.” He turned to Garrick, who still held the ceremonial scroll. “With your permission, Elder, perhaps we may continue.”
Garrick studied him for a moment, then gave a slow nod. “The dead do not wait for the living to compose themselves,” he said gravely. “We proceed.”
He motioned to Fernando. “Alpha, come forward. Light the incense for your father. Let his spirit know his son still honors his name.”
Fernando walked down the dais steps without hesitation. He approached the stone altar at the center of the hall, where a single black incense stick stood upright in a silver holder. He took the ceremonial taper from Garrick, lit the incense, and bowed his head in silence. The fragrant smoke curled upward, thin and solemn.
“Now the chosen Luna,” Garrick announced.
Alberto stepped forward, his movements measured. He took the taper from Fernando’s outstretched hand fingers brushing briefly and lit his own incense beside the first. He closed his eyes, lips moving in silent prayer, shoulders relaxed despite the weight of every gaze upon him.
It was in that moment of stillness that chaos erupted.
Shouts rang from outside the hall sharp, panicked, urgent.
“It’s an attack!” a guard yelled, voice cracking with fear. “Vagus wolves at the eastern gate!”
Panic exploded through the room like wildfire.
Guests scrambled from their seats, elders shouted for order, children cried as adults shoved past one another toward the exits. Tables overturned, banners tore from their hooks, and the sacred incense sticks toppled in the commotion.
Fernando moved instantly.
He grabbed Alberto’s arm, pulling him close. “Stay with me,” he ordered, voice low but firm.
Alberto nodded, already scanning the chaos for threats. “Where do we go?”
“This way,” Fernando said, steering him toward a side corridor one that led away from the main gates, deeper into the inner wing.
They moved quickly, boots echoing against the stone, Fernando’s grip tight around Alberto’s wrist. The hallway was dim, nearly empty as everyone fled toward the outer courtyards or barricaded themselves in chambers.
Halfway down the passage, Fernando stopped abruptly.
Alberto turned to him, brow furrowed. “What is it?”
Fernando didn’t answer.
Instead, his free hand shot out and struck the pressure point just below Alberto’s ear a precise, practiced move taught by Mira herself. Alberto gasped, eyes flying wide in shock and betrayal, before his body went limp.
Fernando caught him before he hit the floor, cradling him gently against his chest for just a second. His expression twisted pain, guilt, resolve all flashing across his face in a heartbeat.
Then Darius appeared from a shadowed alcove, silent as smoke.
Fernando transferred Alberto into his arms without a word.
“Get him to the temple house,” Fernando said, voice rough. “Make sure no one follows. And don’t let him wake until it’s over.”
Darius adjusted his hold, nodding once. “Understood.”
He turned and disappeared down a narrow service passage, Alberto’s unconscious form draped securely over his shoulder.
Fernando straightened, smoothed his robes, and wiped all traces of emotion from his face. Then he ran back toward the main hall, shouting orders as if he’d just arrived on the scene.
“Guards! Secure the elders! Seal the western wing! Someone get me a status report on the eastern gate!”
His voice boomed with authority, drawing every eye, every ounce of attention. No one noticed the absence of the Luna. No one questioned where Alberto had gone.
The chaos slowly subsided as guards regained control, false alarms were sorted from real threats, and the Vagus “attack” was revealed to be nothing more than a handful of scouts driven off by border patrols. Still, the panic lingered, nerves frayed, trust shaken.
One by one, guests emerged from hiding, faces pale, clothes disheveled.
Lucia was the first to notice.
She stood near the shattered remains of the offering table, scanning the crowd with growing unease. Her eyes darted from Fernando to the elders to the guards but Alberto was nowhere.
Her stomach dropped.
“Where’s Alberto?” she asked aloud, voice sharp with alarm.
All conversation stilled.
Fernando turned slowly, his expression shifting from controlled command to sudden, devastating concern. “What do you mean?”
“He’s not here,” Lucia said, stepping forward. “I haven’t seen him since the commotion started.”
Fernando’s face paled. He whirled on the nearest guard, voice cracking like thunder. “Find him! Search every nook and cranny! Check the infirmary, the barracks, the gardens everywhere! If anyone has seen the Luna, they report to me immediately!”
Guards snapped to attention, shouting orders, fanning out in all directions.
Fernando paced like a caged wolf, hands clenched, eyes wild with worry. “How could this happen? In the middle of the Remembrance? Who took him?”
Elder Soje approached cautiously. “Alpha, perhaps he fled during the panic. He is young. Fear can make even strong wolves run.”
“He wouldn’t run,” Fernando snapped, then softened, voice breaking slightly. “Not without me.”
Lucia watched him closely, her eyes narrowed. Something about his performance felt… too perfect. Too rehearsed.
But she said nothing.
Because if Fernando had sent Alberto away for his own safety, then questioning him now would only put Alberto in greater danger.
So she bowed her head and joined the search, calling Alberto’s name into empty corridors, knowing full well he wasn’t lost.
He’d been hidden.
And someone maybe Fernando, maybe Darius, maybe both was betting everything on that choice.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the bloodied banners and broken incense, the pack began to rebuild its composure.
But the Luna was still missing.
And the Alpha played his part flawlessly desperate, distraught, determined.
No one suspected a thing.
Except perhaps Lucia.
And she kept her silence, watching, waiting, wondering what storm was truly coming.