Chapter 40: Ancient Prophecy

Chapter 40: Ancient Prophecy
Sasha POV

I didn’t sleep. When the light finally softened, I knew what I had to do. No more waiting for truth to find me. I would take it. I went to Thelma. Her cabin was warm and smelled like bay and ash. She didn’t look surprised. She rarely did. She set the kettle on and leaned her staff against the table.

“You are early,” she said.

“I’m done being kept in the dark,” I answered. “Tell me the truth. All of it,” she watched me a beat, then pulled a thin leather folio from the shelf. She untied it and laid out a page, ink faded but clear. She didn’t give a speech. She read the words aloud.

“When bloodlines are broken and the moon is dark. A wolf of lost lineage will bear the crescent mark. The True Luna shall rise when the fates are undone. To unite what was shattered, or bring darkness to one,” my mark warmed like a warning.

“What is that?” I asked curiously.

“An old prophecy,” she answered. “Older than Nightveil. I hoped it would stay a legend. It didn’t,”

“Explain it,” I pleaded. I needed to understand it. All of it.

“First line,” Thelma said. “‘When bloodlines are broken and the moon is dark.’ It means upheaval…betrayals, broken alliances, traditions thinning. Look around you,” I looked around, but the inside of her cabin meant nothing to me.

“Yeah, ok, next?”

“‘A wolf of lost lineage will bear the crescent mark,’” she went on. “A descendant of a line thought gone. Founders’ blood that slipped away and returned unseen. Your mother’s line wasn’t what the records claimed. Your blood traces back to Nightveil’s first circle,”

“Did you know that?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I suspected. And the more I see, the more I feel afraid,” she admitted. I ignored her fear, I didn’t care.

“Third line,”

“‘The True Luna shall rise when the fates are undone.’ True Luna is a function, not a title. The one who can bind or unbind when usual bonds are snapped or rewritten. Kade’s public rejection. Your mark answering to Ronan. Fates undone,” my throat tightened.

“Ok, and the last line?”

“‘To unite what was shattered, or bring darkness to one.’ It’s a choice. You could heal a pack, maybe more than one. Or, if forced or twisted, you could ruin us all,” the silence thudded.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Prophecies are knives,” she said. “Once they are in a room, everyone cuts themselves to fit,”

“I’m the knife,” I said.

“You are the hand holding it. The question is whose hand rests over yours when you lift it,” she said just as the door opened and Ronan stepped in. He smiled at me, but his eyes flickered to the page. Kade came in after him, and I frowned. Why were they together? Did I even want to know? They both read the words without an invitation.

“What is it?” Ronan asked.

“The truth,” I said, and read the four lines again. My voice stayed steady. Kade stood like he expected a blow.

“What does it mean?” Thelma gave them the same plain meanings. When she finished, neither spoke. Ronan looked certain. Kade looked like someone had kicked the ground out from under him. “So, she is supposed to save us,” Kade said at last. It sounded like fear. “Or destroy us,”

“I’m not a tool,” I said. “I want to understand, not be used,” Ronan stepped closer, but he didn’t touch me.

“You won’t be used. We will stand with you,”

“We?” Kade’s eyes cut to him. “Since when do you speak for my pack?”

“Since you broke the first promise,” Ronan answered evenly. “This is bigger than your chair,”

“Stop,” I said. “Help me read it instead,” they did. “Bloodlines broken. Moon dark,” I said. “That’s now. And the new moon is close,” Ronan nodded.

“The night the sky erases itself. Doors open and close,” he said, and Kade sighed.

“If the prophecy moves on the dark, that’s our clock,”

“Second line is me,” I said. “Lost lineage. The mark,”

“Third is the bond,” Thelma said. “Fates undone,” Kade took that in and kept standing.

“And the fourth?”

“Choice,” I said. “Unite us, or doom one of us…or a pack, or a line. Maybe me,”

“It won’t be you,” Ronan said.

“You can’t promise that,” I said. “We don’t know the rules,”

“Then we learn,” he said. Kade’s hands flattened on the chairback.

“Tell us what to do,”

“First, stop speaking over me,” I said. “Second, we do this before the new moon. At the cave. With witnesses I choose. We put this prophecy into motion,”

“The elders won’t allow it,” Kade said.

“They don’t own me,” I said. “Or the cave,” Thelma didn’t disagree.

“You will need three things,” she said. “The stones. A vow. And a circle that believes you,”

“I have one,” I said, meeting Ronan’s eyes. Then I looked at Kade. “Do I have two?” he closed his eyes, opened them, and nodded once.

“Yes,” he whispered. Suddenly, the kettle screamed. Thelma pulled it aside, but the sound stayed in my head like a bell.

“I kept thinking about our walk through the forest,” I told Ronan, a small truth given to steady the bigger one. “It felt like choosing,”

“Then choose,” he said.

“I am,” I said. “Tonight, we gather who we trust and meet at the ridge. No elders. No Delia. If anyone tries to stop us, we keep going,” Kade nodded.

“I’ll handle patrols,”

“I’ll handle the rest,” Ronan said. We stepped onto the porch. The day had the flat light of a sky thinking about snow. Wind pushed down the lane and brought the smell of ash from the square. Fear tried to creep in, quiet and practical, counting risks. I let it speak, then put it aside. I wasn’t a symbol; I was a person who could bleed. If I broke, the pack broke. If I stood, maybe we learned how to stand together. That would have to suffice.

“What does the truth sense feel like?” Kade asked as we walked. “When someone lies?”

“Like metal on my tongue,” I said. “Like a room leaning,”

“We use what we are given,” Ronan said. “We don’t let it use us,” we reached my door. I turned to both of them.

“One more thing. If this prophecy is real, it doesn’t make me your weapon. It makes me responsible,” I said. Ronan’s mouth softened.

“You have always been responsible,”

“I’ll stand where you ask,” Kade whispered. I nodded and pushed the door open. Wind rose all at once, not a breeze but a push. It slid through us, rattled the shutters, and wrapped my mark in heat. My vision went sharp for a heartbeat, and then it was gone. Replaced with silence and the warmth of the sun.