Chapter 74

Chapter 74
Evelyn’s POV

When Kael is here, his presence fills every corridor like fire in the hearth, warm but suffocating. But in his absence, it is worse. The silence breathes. Shadows lean in. Whispers coil through stone like vines, finding cracks to cling to, seeping into places I cannot touch.
And all of it is about me.
The maids’ eyes slide sideways when I pass. Warriors stop mid conversation when I step into the courtyard. Even the cooks in the kitchen, who once tripped over themselves to offer the Luna whatever dish they thought might please her, now fall silent and bow too quickly, as though my gaze itself might scorch them. I know why. It’s the glass. The lights. The smoke that curls from my fingers at night when I can’t sleep, when the bond’s thrum pushes me to try again, to practice, to tame this curse that feels stitched into my blood. I thought I had hidden it well, but servants always hear. Servants always see. And their tongues are sharper than any blade.
They whisper witch behind my back. They whisper cursed Luna. And I pretend not to hear, because what else can I do?
But tonight tonight, the whispers find a voice that will not slink into corners.
The council chamber is crowded, lit by torches that gutter against the damp stone. The smell of smoke and wolves hangs thick in the air. I sit in the Luna’s chair, high-backed and carved with the sigil of Kael’s bloodline. My hands are folded neatly in my lap, nails biting into my palms where no one can see.
The elders gather like carrion birds, their gray hair and stiff robes rustling as they shift on the benches. Their eyes are too sharp, their silence too loud.
And then he rises. Elder Rhovan. His presence is iron: a man whose voice shaped the Alpha before me, whose hand steadied Kael’s father when his grip wavered, whose words still ripple through the pack like law. Age has not softened him. His shoulders are broad, his jaw stern, and when he looks at me, I feel every ounce of his disdain.
“Luna,” he says, though the title drips with mockery. “We have tolerated many things since your arrival. Your softness. Your human airs. Even your frailty.
A low murmur runs through the chamber. I sit straighter, though my heartbeat drums so loud I fear they can all hear it.
“But now,” he continues, his voice rising, “the pack is unsettled. They speak of strange lights in your chamber. Of mirrors shattering in the night. Of the Luna muttering to herself while fire leaks from beneath her door.”
The murmurs swell into gasps, into agreement. I see warriors’ lips curl, maids’ faces pale. My skin burns.
“They say you dabble in forbidden things,” Elder Rhovan says, eyes narrowing like a blade aimed for the kill. “They say our Alpha’s mate is no Luna at all, but a witch cloaked in a crown she does not deserve.”
The words strike harder than any blow. For a moment, I cannot breathe. The bond inside me pulls taut, Kael’s presence stirring faintly across the distance, as if he senses my terror through the thread we share.
I force myself to rise, every inch of me trembling, but my voice steady as I say, “I am Luna of this pack by the Moon’s decree. By the bond sealed in blood and spirit. Do you dare deny what the Goddess herself has bound?”
His mouth twists. “The Goddess may have bound you, but even wolves can rot when sickness takes root. We will not follow weakness into ruin.”
The chamber hums with agreement. My chest tightens, rage clawing up through the fear.
Weakness. That word again. That curse. They have all whispered it, all weighed me against Kael’s fire and found me wanting. And yet they do not see the nights I bleed to tame what burns inside me. They do not feel the bond that crushes me under the Alpha’s will. They do not know how much it costs to simply breathe beneath the weight of this crown.
Something inside me snaps.
“Enough.” The word comes raw, guttural. My hands, clenched at my sides, are trembling not from fear but from the power surging, begging to be unleashed.
But Elder Rhovan only steps closer, his shadow falling across me, daring me to falter. “If you were truly Luna, you would command respect. But look at them.” He sweeps his hand toward the gathered pack. “They fear you. They whisper of you. They do not see a Luna. They see a danger.”
The chamber tilts. The bond in my chest thrums louder, Kael’s distant fury flickering against my skin like heat lightning. My breath comes ragged Danger. I feel it swell, a tide I can no longer hold back. Light sparks across my vision, threads of power slipping from my fingers like fireflies escaping a jar. Gasps echo. Rhovan’s eyes widen, but he does not bow. He does not cower. He dares.
“You are unfit,” he declares. “And I will not let this pack be ruled by a-"
The rest of his words are ripped away in a scream.
It happens too fast for me to think. Too fast for me to stop. The power bursts from me like a storm unchained, a lash of searing light that arcs across the chamber and strikes him square in the chest.
He is thrown backward, his body slamming into the stone wall with a sickening crack. Gasps rise like a wave, filling the chamber. Someone screams.
I am left standing there, chest heaving, fingers smoking with the afterburn of what I have done.
Elder Rhovan lies crumpled on the ground. His robe smolders where the blast struck, skin scorched beneath. He wheezes, struggling to rise, but collapses again, coughing blood onto the floor.
The chamber has gone utterly silent. Every eye is on me. On their Luna. On the monster. My breath shudders. I want to speak, to explain, to deny but what words could I say? That it was an accident? That I didn’t mean to? They all saw. They all felt the power in the air, sharp and wild, nothing like the steady strength of a wolf’s gift. This was something else. Something other. Something that should not belong to me.
And yet it does.
“Remember this,” I hear myself say, though my voice feels distant, as though someone else speaks through me. “I am Luna. Not because you accept me. Not because you approve. But because I was chosen. By the bond. By the Moon herself.”
I step down from the chair, the stone floor echoing under my feet. The crowd parts instinctively, fear sharp in their eyes, their bodies bowing away from me as though I burn. Even Rhovan, groaning on the ground, cannot meet my gaze.
I pass him without pausing. My skirts brush the floor, my steps steady though my insides quake. When I reach the great doors, I stop just long enough to glance back at the silent chamber.
“Let no one here forget,” I whisper, power still flickering at my fingertips. “The Luna is not weak.”
Then I push the doors open and leave them all in stunned silence. The corridors are empty as I walk, though I know they will not stay that way. Already whispers will spread. Already fear will grow. I can feel the bond thrumming hotter, Kael’s presence pushing harder against my chest as though he senses every breath, every pulse of what I unleashed. By the time he returns, the fortress will have changed. The Luna they once mocked as weak has shown her teeth. But at what cost? I reach my chamber and close the door, my back pressing hard against the wood. My hands are still shaking, sparks of light trembling in my palms like they refuse to fade. My reflection in the mirror catches my eye, fractured and sharp. I see a crown, heavy and dark.
I see a Luna.
I see a monster.
And I don’t know which one is truly me.