Chapter 29 CHAPTER 29
Cindy’s palms were damp as they approached the temple door. The scent of incense drifted faintly through the air, curling from the lanterns that lined the stone archway. She hesitated at the threshold, her pulse quick and uneven. A moment ago, she’d been standing in Pauline’s café—a place that smelled of cinnamon and coffee and ordinary life. Now she was about to step into something that felt far from ordinary.
Ethan paused beside her. “You’re trembling,” he said softly.
“I’m fine,” Cindy murmured, though her voice said otherwise. “Just… nervous. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to feel.”
Ethan’s eyes softened. “You don’t have to feel anything specific. Just be yourself.”
Be myself. The words almost made her laugh. She didn’t even know who that was anymore.
He pushed open the temple door. It gave a low creak as cool air spilled out - soft, perfumed with herbs and moonflower oil.
Inside, the light dimmed to a silver glow. Dozens of candles flickered along the walls, their reflections dancing across the smooth stone floor. At the far end stood Celestine, her white robes trailing like mist. She turned as they entered, her gaze settling instantly on Cindy.
Ethan opened his mouth to speak - but Celestine raised her hand gently, silencing him.
“My king,” she said, her voice a soft echo that carried through the hall. Then, her eyes moved to Cindy, and something changed. Her breath caught. The air around her shimmered faintly.
Cindy took an involuntary step back, uneasy under that intense stare.
Then Celestine bowed deeply, her silver hair falling forward. “Your Highness,” she whispered. “The royal blood has finally been reunited.”
Cindy blinked. “I…Is it me she is talking about?” she stammered, glancing at Ethan.
But Celestine didn’t answer her denial. She stepped closer, extending her hand. “Let me have a look at you.”
Cindy hesitated. Ethan gave a small nod of reassurance. Slowly, she placed her hand in Celestine’s.
The priestess’s touch was warm, almost electric. She ran her fingers lightly along Cindy’s palm, her eyes closing as a soft hum filled the space. The candle flames wavered, bending toward them as though drawn by an unseen force.
When Celestine finally spoke, her voice was heavy with sorrow. “You’ve had it rough, my child. Your childhood was full of pain.”
Ethan’s breath hitched. “You can see it? Her past?”
“Yes,” Celestine murmured. “But even if the goddess hadn’t shown me, the blisters on her hands would have told me enough.”
Ethan reached across instinctively and took Cindy’s other hand between his. His fingers brushed over the hardened patches of skin, trembling.
“All I see is pain, tears, exhaustion, and fear,” Celestine said, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry you had it so rough, my princess. You met such horrible people as your guardians. They treated royalty like a servant.”
Cindy’s gaze fell to their joined hands. Her throat tightened. “It was not that bad. I got used to the hard work.”
Celestine’s brows drew together, but she said nothing.
Ethan, however, couldn’t hide the fire in his tone. “They’ll pay for that,” he growled. “I’ll make them pay.”
“You can’t.” Celestine’s voice cut sharply through his fury. “The goddess forbids you. Their fates are not yours to decide.”
He stiffened. “Damn the…” He stopped mid-curse, exhaling roughly. “Forgive me,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Celestine opened her eyes again, her expression softening. “You must let go of vengeance, Ethan. The goddess rewards those who heal, not those who destroy.”
Cindy swallowed hard, her voice gentle. “It’s all right, Ethan. I survived.”
He turned to her, meeting her gaze, and the pain in his eyes melted into something softer - grief, yes, but also pride.
After a long silence, Celestine’s eyes began to glow faintly, silver light reflecting in her pupils. “There’s more,” she whispered. “I see something that binds you, Lisa, a shadow that clings to your soul.”
Cindy tensed. “What kind of shadow?”
Celestine’s voice grew lower. “A mate. The Alpha of Silverpine.”
Ethan stiffened beside her. “What?”
Celestine nodded slowly. “He rejected you, didn’t he? He has another… his very doom.”
Cindy froze, her heart thundering in her chest. The priestess’s words were like daggers, sharp and painfully accurate.
Ethan turned toward her in shock. “Is that true? Did you find your mate at Silverpine? Is that why they turned against you? Is that why you’ve been alone in the city at only nineteen years?”
“I’m not alone,” Cindy said softly. “Lisa was always with me. And they didn’t chase me out - I left on my own.”
Ethan’s jaw clenched. “Still, if he rejected you and he’s bonded to another, keeping that connection will only hurt you. You should have the bond broken.”
“Don’t I know it,” Cindy muttered with a bitter half-smile. She lifted her sleeve, revealing faint pink marks on her wrist, the ones that had burned that morning. “This is what happens when he’s with her. I learnt that lesson the hard way.”
Ethan’s eyes darkened. “You see? This is torture!” he said, turning to Celestine. “How can the goddess allow her to suffer this way? We have to go back to Silverpine so that you can accept the rejection.”
Celestine’s gaze deepened, her tone heavy with warning. “No. The bond must remain. The goddess forbids its severance.”
“What?” Ethan stared at her. “You mean she has to live with this pain, Why?”
“The goddess has spoken,” Celestine said, her voice steady. “The bond will serve a purpose yet unseen. It will help in the days to come.”
Ethan’s voice hardened. “Help? How? Ask her how it will help. We need to know if it’s worth Lisa’s agony.”
Celestine pressed a hand to her temple as if listening to something distant. The silver light around her dimmed. “She will not say,” she whispered. “And I cannot press her. The goddess’s silence is its own command.”
The room fell into stillness. The soft flicker of candlelight cast trembling shadows on the walls. Cindy stared at the glowing pool at the center of the temple, its surface rippling faintly though no wind moved.
For the first time, she realized how heavy her chest felt, how much she’d been holding in since morning - the pain, the confusion, the fear of believing any of this was real. But sitting here, beneath the goddess’s light, something inside her eased.
Ethan reached out, his voice quieter now, gentler. “Whatever comes next, we face it together, Lisa. You’re not alone anymore.”
Cindy met his eyes and managed a small smile. “Then I guess it’s time I learned what it means to be one of you.”
Celestine’s lips curved faintly, pride and sadness mingling in her expression. “The Moon Goddess doesn’t make mistakes,” she said softly. “Your suffering was never without purpose. In time, you will understand why.”
Cindy exhaled slowly, looking up toward the carved moon above the altar. Its silver light spilled across her face, and for the first time since she could remember, she didn’t turn away from it.