Chapter 75 Theron POV

Chapter 75 Theron POV
Theron

By the time dawn begins bleeding gray across the horizon, the palace no longer feels like the kingdom I’ve ruled for most of my life. It feels like a war zone pretending to be a home. Healers move through the hallways carrying blood-soaked supplies while exhausted soldiers lean against the walls trying not to collapse where they stand. Servants rush between rooms with blankets, food, clean water, and fresh medical bandages. Somewhere deeper inside the palace, someone is crying hard enough that the sound echoes down the hallway before disappearing again. Nobody stops moving long enough to process what happened tonight.

The scent of blood still hangs thick in the air even this far inside the palace. Ashwood blood. Elaris blood. Moonstone blood. I step around a shattered section of marble near the western corridor where one of the palace windows exploded during the battle. Cold dawn air moves through the opening now, carrying smoke from the damaged training grounds below. The kingdom survived. Barely. But survival comes with consequences and I can already feel them gathering around the palace walls like another storm preparing to break.

A pair of nobles stand near the far archway whispering urgently to one another until they notice me approaching. Both immediately straighten. Too late. I already heard enough.

“…dangerous…”
“…inside the palace…”
“…the Scarlet Luna…”

Fear. Still fear. Even after Moonstone fought for Elaris tonight. One of the nobles swallows hard under my stare.

“My king.”

I stop directly in front of them.

“Say it louder next time,” I say evenly. “Cowardice hidden behind whispering is still cowardice.”

Neither man answers and that's probably for the best because I am far too exhausted to tolerate political games before sunrise. I continue walking before either of them can attempt some halfhearted explanation and the silence behind me tells me they’re smart enough not to follow.

The palace opens toward the eastern recovery wing moments later and the sight waiting there nearly stops me in my tracks. Moonstone wolves. Everywhere. Some wounded. Some asleep against the walls from exhaustion. Some sitting beside hospital beds occupied by Elaris soldiers they fought beside only hours ago. One young Moonstone woman clutches another wolf against her chest while openly sobbing into his shoulder. Across the hall, an older man runs trembling fingers across electric lights mounted along the ceiling like he still cannot believe they exist. Eighteen years. Goddess. Eighteen years trapped away from the world while the kingdom moved on without them. Shame settles heavily in my chest again. A healer brushes past me carrying fresh towels stained pink with diluted blood. Another rushes toward a room farther down the corridor where a wounded lycan growls through obvious pain while two witches try stabilizing his shoulder. Nobody notices me standing there and, for once, I’m grateful for it. My gaze catches on a little girl sitting near the far wall beside an exhausted Moonstone wolf. She cannot be older than six or seven. Her silver eyes move carefully around the palace corridor taking everything in with cautious fascination. Computers. Electric lights. Radios. Modern Elaris. She was born inside the realm and the realization hits hard enough to hollow something inside my chest. There are children here who have never seen the actual sky. Never walked beneath a real sunrise. Never touched rain that wasn’t created by realm instability. The little girl notices me staring and fear flickers across her face instantly and she presses closer against the older wolf beside her. I stop breathing for half a second because I recognize that fear. Moonstone taught their children to fear me and after what I allowed to happen eighteen years ago, I cannot even blame them for it. The older wolf’s gaze sharpens protectively as he looks at me. I nod once toward him before continuing down the corridor without speaking. The weight in my chest grows heavier with every step.

By the time I finally reach the outer palace balcony overlooking the destroyed training courtyard, exhaustion has settled so deeply into my bones that I feel ancient. The courtyard below looks unrecognizable in the dawn light. Cleanup crews move between shattered stone and collapsed barricades while soldiers gather bodies beneath white coverings near the western wall. Blood still stains huge sections of the courtyard floor despite attempts to wash it away overnight. The realm opening happened there. Moonstone returned there. Morvena died there. My kingdom changed there.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Lysara’s voice breaks quietly through the morning air behind me.

I glance over my shoulder as she steps onto the balcony carrying two untouched cups of coffee. Her dark hair hangs loose around her shoulders now instead of pinned into its usual formal style and exhaustion shadows her face almost as heavily as mine. She holds one cup toward me and I take it automatically. Neither of us drinks it.

“You should be resting,” I say.

“So should you.”

Fair enough. Lysara steps beside me at the balcony railing before looking out over the courtyard below. For several long seconds, neither of us speaks.

“I saw Moonstone children sleeping in our hallways," I say and the words come out rougher than I intend. Lysara’s expression tightens slightly.

“I know.”

“I told myself fear was protecting this kingdom.”

And that's the truth. Not the polished political version. Not the official explanation. The real thing. Fear. Fear of power. Fear of prophecy. Fear of losing control. Fear built all of this. Lysara rests both hands against the stone railing before answering.

“And fear created exactly the future you were trying to prevent.”

I close my eyes briefly because she’s right. Every horrifying part of this began with fear disguised as duty. The Scarlet Luna prophecy. Moonstone power. The realm. Morvena whispering poison into vulnerable ears. Silas Ashwood exploiting uncertainty. And me making the final choice. I exhale slowly before looking back toward the courtyard.

“I thought sealing them away would save Elaris.”

“And now?”

I stare at the cleanup crews moving across the shattered grounds below. At Moonstone wolves carrying wounded Elaris soldiers toward the medical wing. At the blood still staining palace stone.

“Now I think Elaris only survived tonight because they came back.”

Silence settles heavily between us. Lysara finally reaches for my hand briefly. Not absolution. Just presence.

“You cannot undo what happened,” she says quietly.

“No.”

“But you can decide what happens next.”

Before I can answer, movement below catches my attention. Callum. He stands alone near the center of the destroyed training courtyard staring at the cracked ground where the realm opening once burned silver across the ground. Even from this distance, he radiates danger. Moonstone wolves unconsciously give him space as they move around the courtyard. The Alpha of Moonstone returned from the dead tonight and everyone in the kingdom knows it. Lysara notices where my attention shifted.

“You should talk to him.”

A humorless laugh leaves me.

“That sounds like terrible advice.”

“He deserves the truth.”

“He deserves much more than the truth," I say and Lysara studies me quietly for a moment.

“Probably,” she admits.

I look down at the untouched coffee in my hand before setting it aside on the stone railing then I head for the stairs before I can change my mind. The walk across the courtyard feels longer than it should. Cleanup crews step aside automatically as I move through the wreckage while the reality of last night surrounds me from every direction. Broken walls. Collapsed stone. Burned ground. Blood. Moonstone wolves glance toward me carefully as I pass. Some openly hostile and others unreadable, but not a single one bows. Again, I cannot blame them. Callum does not turn around when I finally stop several feet behind him, but he knows I’m there.

“You should probably hit me,” I say finally and Callum’s gaze remains fixed on the shattered courtyard ahead.

“Would it fix anything?” he asks and the calmness in his voice unsettles me more than anger would have.

“No.”

“Then it seems unnecessary.”

Silence stretches between us. Cleanup crews continue moving around the courtyard while dawn slowly brightens overhead. Somewhere near the palace entrance, someone begins shouting orders at a group of exhausted soldiers reinforcing the damaged gates. Life continuing after catastrophe. I force myself to speak before cowardice convinces me to walk away.

“I was wrong.”

Callum finally turns toward me then. The full weight of his attention feels like standing in front of a predator deciding whether or not violence is worth the effort. Blood still stains his hands.

“I know,” he says quietly. No rage and no satisfaction. Somehow that makes it worse. I swallow hard.

“I let fear make decisions for me.”

“You let fear bury my people alive.”

The words land like a blade because there’s no argument against them. I look away briefly toward the western wall where Morvena died only hours ago.

“She manipulated all of us," I say and Callum’s expression hardens instantly.

“And there it is.”

I look back at him sharply.

“That wasn’t an excuse.”

“But you wanted it to be," he snaps and the truth of it cuts deeper than I expect. Callum steps closer slowly. “You want me to tell you she poisoned your mind.” His voice stays calm. “You want me to tell you Ashwood twisted the situation beyond your control.” Another step closer. “You want me to make this easier for you to carry.”

“I know what I did.”

“Do you?” The question cracks harder than shouting would have. Callum gestures sharply toward the palace behind us. “My daughter grew up believing her family was dead.” Every word lands heavier. “Elara spent eighteen years grieving a child she thought she lost forever.” His jaw tightens visibly. “Children were born inside that realm, Theron. Children who never saw the real sky because you decided we were too dangerous to exist freely in your kingdom.” I force myself not to look away because if I look away now, then none of this means anything. Callum’s voice drops lower. “You did not just bury my pack.” His eyes lock onto mine completely. “You took my daughter’s life before she ever had the chance to live it.” Pain hits so hard I almost physically flinch because he’s absolutely right. The courtyard falls strangely quiet around us. Even the cleanup crews seem farther away now.

“I cannot undo what happened,” I say finally.

“No,” Callum agrees coldly. “You can’t.” Another long silence.

“Why did she do it?” I ask, the question leaving me before I can stop it because I genuinely do not understand. Callum’s eyes narrow slightly.

“Do what?”

I look toward the palace behind us. Toward the wounded Elaris soldiers being carried through the doors beside Moonstone wolves who should have had every reason to leave this kingdom to burn.

“Save us,” I say quietly. “After everything this kingdom did to her family… why would she still fight for Elaris?” Something shifts in Callum’s expression then. Not softer. Just certain.

“Because she is Elara’s daughter,” he says quietly. “Not Morvena’s.”

The answer settles heavily between us. Love instead of obsession. Mercy instead of bitterness. That was always the difference. I look back toward the damaged palace where Moonstone wolves now move freely through Elaris halls for the first time in nearly two decades.

“I don’t expect forgiveness.”

“Good.”

Callum’s answer comes immediately and the honesty of it almost feels relieving. He steps beside me then instead of walking away completely. Not reconciliation, but not refusal either. We stand there together in exhausted silence watching workers clear bodies from the courtyard while dawn spreads fully across Elaris for the first morning after Moonstone’s return. Then one of my commanders rushes across the courtyard toward us.

“My king.”

His breathing comes hard from obvious exhaustion and I straighten immediately.

“What is it?” I ask and the commander hesitates briefly after noticing Callum standing beside me.

“We tracked the remaining Ashwood survivors through the eastern forest.” His expression darkens. “But Idris and Silas Ashwood were not among them.”

Cold settles instantly in my stomach. Of course they escaped. Men like them always run before everything is finished burning. Callum’s expression hardens beside me.

“He won’t stop,” he says quietly.

No. He won’t. I look toward the eastern horizon where the forest stretches dark beyond the palace walls. The war ended here last night, but hatred rarely dies as easily as people do.

“Find him,” I order coldly and the commander nods immediately then Callum speaks beside me without taking his eyes off the horizon.

“Because if Idris and Silas Ashwood reaches another pack before we do,” he says quietly, “this kingdom is going to bleed all over again.”

The commander nods immediately before hurrying back across the courtyard toward the eastern gate. Silence settles between Callum and me again afterward while the weight of those words hangs heavily in the cold morning air. Another war. My kingdom bleeding again because hatred refuses to die quietly. I stare out toward the forest beyond the palace walls.

“I should have listened to you,” I admit finally, but Callum doesn’t answer immediately. The wind shifts across the ruined courtyard between us carrying smoke, blood, and the distant sound of reconstruction already beginning inside the palace grounds. “When Morvena first came to me with accusations against Moonstone, I told myself caution was wisdom.” My jaw tightens. “Then fear became certainty.” I look toward him fully. “And by the time I realized what was happening, I had already chosen a side.” Callum’s expression remains unreadable for several long seconds.

“If you had come to me directly,” he says finally, “I would have stood beside Elaris until my last breath.” The words hit harder than anger because I believe him instantly.

“I know.”

“No.” His voice sharpens slightly for the first time. “I don’t think you do.” He gestures toward the destroyed courtyard around us. “Moonstone was loyal to this kingdom long before prophecy ever touched my bloodline. Before Sapphira. Before Morvena.” His eyes lock onto mine again. “You let one bitter woman and one power-hungry coward convince you loyalty was treason.” Silence crashes between us because again… he is right. Callum exhales slowly before looking away toward the palace. “I would have died protecting your family. Every member of my pack would have.” His jaw tightens briefly. “Instead my daughter grew up hunted by the very kingdom we once would have bled for willingly.” Guilt twists violently through my chest. Below us, cleanup crews continue dragging broken barricades away from the center of the courtyard while Moonstone wolves work beside Elaris soldiers beneath the pale dawn light. A future that almost never existed.

“And now?” I ask carefully and Callum goes still beside me. For a moment I genuinely think he’s going to walk away without answering.

“Now,” he says quietly, “the only reason I will still fight for this kingdom is because my daughter and her mate are tied to its future.” I say nothing because this matters too much to interrupt. Callum’s eyes remain fixed on the palace where Elowyn sleeps somewhere inside beside Kael. “I lost eighteen years. Elara lost eighteen years. Moonstone lost generations.” His voice lowers dangerously. “I will not let Ashwood steal the future from them too.” The prophecy. Not spoken aloud directly, but there between us anyway. Scarlet Luna. Moonbound King. Elowyn and Kael. Callum finally looks at me again. “This kingdom does not belong to fear anymore. Not if they’re going to inherit it one day.”

Emotion catches unexpectedly in my throat because after everything I destroyed, after every unforgivable choice, Callum Voss is still standing here talking about protecting the future of Elaris instead of burning it to the ground. Not because he forgives me. He doesn’t. Maybe he never will. But because his daughter chose this kingdom anyway and somehow… despite everything… he’s choosing her.

“I do not deserve that loyalty,” I admit.

“No,” Callum agrees immediately. “You don’t.” Then he steps past me toward the palace before stopping one final time. “But Kael does.”

The words land with startling weight and Callum leaves me standing alone in the ruined courtyard beneath the first sunrise since Moonstone came home.