Chapter 38 The moonlit masquerade
Ronan barely bothered fastening his cloak before storming down the corridor.
Matthew matched his pace as guards hurried ahead to unlock the dungeon doors.
“I really thought they’d go quiet longer,” Matthew said under his breath. “After going quiet for so many—”
“They never go quiet unless they’re preparing,” Ronan cut in.
Fenrir stirred sharply beneath his skin.
Ronan’s thoughts flashed to Elara’s dream. The blood-red sky. The voice that had spoken as if she already belonged to it.
“They’re planning something,” Ronan said grimly. “And Morrigan needs to hurry with that artifact. Elara’s scent is drawing danger faster than we can contain it.”
The dungeon gates creaked open.
Cold rushed out like a breath of death.
The Nosferu slammed against its cage the instant it saw them.
Once human. Now warped into something half-vampire, half-corpse. Its bald scalp clung tightly to bone. Limbs stretched too long. Jaws lined with uneven, blood-darkened teeth. Hollow red eyes burned with feral awareness.
It shoved its arms through the bars.
The moment its skin touched the moon-forged silver, smoke curled.
The creature shrieked violently as flesh blistered and blackened.
Ronan wrinkled his nose. “Good. It reacts just fine.”
The Nosferu recoiled, snarling low in its throat.
Matthew swallowed hard. “It me of Kael.”
The name tightened Ronan’s jaw.
Kael had been taken months ago.
Turned.
Put down.
The Nosferu lifted its twisted head slowly.
“Master comes for the girl,” it rasped. “You cannot hide her.”
Fenrir exploded forward.
Ronan’s eyes flared molten red as his aura crushed outward.
Guards dropped instantly.
The Nosferu slammed its skull against the floor repeatedly.
“Red moon rises,” it croaked. “Blood light breaks seals. She will be claimed.”
Ronan swore softly.
First Elara’s dream.
Now this.
The timing was no coincidence.
“They’re preparing for the red moon,” Matthew said tightly.
Ronan exhaled sharply. “And using Elara as the key.”
He turned away.
“Keep it alive. Have the witches carve sigils into the cell. I want truth spells layered until it can’t lie even in death.”
“And the masquerade?”
Ronan’s voice hardened.
“We attend. And I deal with Draven for thinking of claiming my mate.”
\---
Two days passed in a blur: Morrigan hunched over her work, patrols tightened across the palace, and Ronan’s thoughts never left the danger he knew awaited Elara.
And in Elara’s chambers, magic turned into silk. The seamstress moved quickly but reverently, fingers whispering enchantments into each stitch.
Moon-thread shimmered through the fabric, protective spells woven into every fold.
“This will resist tearing,” the woman murmured. “Deflect minor magic. And shimmer differently under moonlight.”
The gown flowed like liquid silver-blue, hugging Elara’s form before spilling softly toward the floor.
Faye clasped her hands. “My lady, you look unreal.”
Liora nodded firmly. “Like something from the moon myths.”
Elara smiled, but nerves fluttered in her chest.
"We’re strong," Lyra purred. "And beautiful."
Her gaze drifted to her shoulder where the bruised imprint lingered faintly.
Northwood waited.
Draven waited.
Closure waited.
A knock sounded.
Before she spoke, Lyra burst with excitement. "It’s Ronan! I can smell him! He’s close!"
Elara blinked. “You can already do that?”
"I’m growing stronger every day."
Her heart raced.
“Come in,” she whispered.
The door opened.
Ronan stepped inside, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to her; every thought, every breath focused on her alone.
Silver hair spilled down her back in soft waves, catching the light like liquid moonshine. The gown clung to her waist before flowing freely, the enchanted fabric shimmering with every breath she took. Her eyes glowed brighter against the cool silver-blue, wide and uncertain and devastatingly beautiful.
His chest tightened painfully. He crossed the room without realizing he’d moved.
“Elara…”
His voice came out rough.
She lifted her gaze to him, nervous, hopeful, glowing.
Ronan stopped inches away.
Slowly, reverently, he reached for her hand.
His thumb brushed across her knuckles once, as though grounding himself.
Then he bowed his head.
Pressed his lips to the back of her hand.
The kiss was warm. Lingering. Careful.
A promise more than affection.
Her breath hitched softly.
He lifted his head, eyes burning gold.
“You look beautiful,” he breathed, like the words meant everything. “Not just tonight. Not because of the dress. You’re beautiful every time you breathe. Every time you look at me like you don’t realize what you do to my heart.”
Elara’s breath stuttered.
Heat rushed through her chest and down to her toes.
Lyra nearly purred herself unconscious. "Oh goddess… he is down bad."
Ronan gave a faint smile at the sound in her mind but never looked away from Elara.
“And seeing you like this,” he added softly, “feels like the moon itself decided to show off.”
Her lips parted, stunned, cheeks burning.
“Ronan…”
He squeezed her hand gently.
“I meant every word.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks.
His golden eyes flickered nervously.
“I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”
“I do,” she said softly before she could even stop herself.
Relief washed over him instantly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I let jealousy rule me.”
She hesitated. “I still don't understand why.”
Lyra groaned loudly. "Men."
Ronan smiled faintly but he didn't say anything more. Instead, he motioned for the attendants to come in. They entered with two opened velvet boxes.
Inside one lay a silver necklace, moon-crested and humming faintly with magic.
“The artifact,” Ronan said. “Morrigan finished it this morning.”
He led her back to the mirror and brushed her hair aside, clasping it around her neck.
Warmth pulsed against her skin.
“It will mask your scent completely,” he said. “Especially in Northwood. Draven won’t sense you.”
She touched it in awe. “It’s beautiful.”
“It is,” he intoned, “because you’re wearing it.”
She flushed harder.
He lifted the silver mask gently over her eyes.
“Help me with mine.”
Her fingers trembled as she tied it.
Their breath mingled.
“I will protect you,” he whispered. “Even if it means defying the goddess herself.”
Emotion tightened her throat.
By nightfall, the preparations were complete. Magic, silk, and golden light shimmered across the palace as they prepared to step into the world beyond.
Soon they stepped outside where the moon carriage waited.
White horses shimmered with lunar glow, crescents glowing on their foreheads. The carriage pulsed softly with moon magic.
Elara gasped. “I’ve only heard stories.”
“I wanted our first journey outside the palace together to feel safe,” Ronan said.
Matthew snickered behind them. Arwen shook her head fondly.
They climbed in. The carriage glided forward.
As Northwood’s gates rose into view, Elara’s pulse raced.
Ronan squeezed her hand.
“You’re with me.”
She nodded softly.
Closure waited.
And whatever storm followed it.