Chapter 32 The Ghost of the Past
:
Aurora’s POV
The golden warmth of the bond had felt so beautiful. Only a few minutes ago, it felt like a second soul was being sewn into my own. But suddenly, that warmth turned into freezing ice. My hand was still tucked inside Deacon’s, but I felt him slip away from me without moving an inch. His focus, his scent, and even his heartbeat—they weren't mine anymore. They belonged entirely to the ghost standing in the doorway.
"Victoria," Deacon whispered again. The way he said her name sounded like the noise of a building collapsing. It was pure, raw heartbreak.
I looked at her. This was my mother’s sister. My aunt. She stood there looking like a phantom from the scary stories told in the Moonstone pack. Her white lace dress was dirty, stained with the gray dust of whatever dark hole she had been hiding in all these years. She didn't know who I was. To her, I was just some girl in a green dress—a placeholder sitting on the throne she had left empty.
But I knew a secret. I knew the truth my mother had whispered to me in the dark when I was a child: Victoria’s baby, the one the King thought was his prince, was the result of a big, desperate lie.
"Deacon," Victoria breathed out. Her voice was shaking. "They told me you had moved on. They told me you were already marking someone else."
"You were dead," Deacon said. He finally found his strength and stood up. As he did, he let go of my hand. He didn't drop it gently; he just pulled his touch away like I was a statue he didn't need to lean on anymore. He stepped off the platform, drawn to her like a moth flying into a fire. "I saw the wreckage of the carriage, Victoria. I saw all the blood."
"Thorne took me," she sobbed. She collapsed into his arms as soon as he reached her. "He kept me in the pits of the Western Wing. I only stayed alive so I could see you again. To see our son."
When she mentioned the child, Deacon’s whole energy changed. The "Hollow King" was gone. In his place was a man who was desperate to find the piece of the future he thought had been murdered.
"The boy," Deacon rasped out, grabbing her shoulders tight. "Victoria, the boy. Is he alive? Where is my son?"
I stood alone on the platform. The heavy weight of the black crown felt like it was pressing into my skull. He hadn't looked back at me even once. He didn't even check to see if I was still standing. The happy cheers of the pack had turned into a low, confused buzzing sound. I saw Lady Phina staring at Victoria with mean, suspicious eyes, but the Elders were already bowing their heads.
I felt a sudden, sharp heat behind my eyes. I reached up to hold the crown steady, and when I pulled my hand away, it was wet.
Blood.
My nose was bleeding again, but it wasn't just a little bit this time. I felt a thick, salty warmth sliding down the back of my throat. A sharp, stabbing pain hit my chest, making it hard to breathe. My wolf was whimpering inside me, buried under a mountain of sadness. The bond had been accepted by the Goddess, yes, but the King's heart had just slammed the door in my face.
He’s alive, Deacon, I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. The boy is a man now, the same age as me! He’s hidden away because his blood doesn't actually belong to you! But the words wouldn't come out. If I spoke now, I would destroy the only bit of joy I had ever seen on Deacon’s face. And yet, keeping the secret was killing me. Literally.
"He is with the caretakers in the neutral zone," Victoria whispered against Deacon’s chest. "He has your eyes, Deacon. He has all your strength."
Deacon let out a ragged, happy laugh. It was a sound I had never heard him make for me. He turned to Calus, his eyes glowing bright. "Calus! Get the fastest horses ready. Tell the border guards to be alert. My son... the Prince is finally coming home!"
"Sire," Calus said. His voice sounded unsure. He kept looking over at me. "The Luna... Aurora is—"
"Make sure the best guest rooms are ready for Victoria," Deacon said, completely cutting Calus off. He was shaking with a wild, crazy energy. "And get the royal doctors. She needs to eat. She needs to be taken care of."
He began to lead her out of the hall, keeping his arm protectively around her waist. He walked right past the stone pillars, past the whispering lords and ladies, and past the girl he had just spent the whole night claiming as his own.
I swayed on my feet. The green silk of my dress was starting to feel heavy and wet. I looked down. Gold-colored blood was staining the front of my gown. It was spreading like a dark, poisonous flower right over my heart.
"Aurora?" Elio’s voice was a small, scared squeak. She rushed up the steps of the platform and caught me just as my knees hit the hard marble. "Luna! You’re bleeding! Deacon! King Deacon, wait!"
But the big doors of the Great Hall were already swinging shut. The King was gone with his first love. He didn't hear her. Or maybe, because his "dead" wife was back, he just didn't care.
"Get Kelvin," I whispered. The words felt like they were bubbling through the blood in my mouth. "Elio... find Kelvin. Don't let the Elders see me like this."
"You're dying," Elio cried. Her eyes filled up with tears. "The bond... it’s pulling too hard on you. He’s giving all his mental energy to her, and he’s leaving you with nothing but the mark!"
I looked at the closed doors. My aunt was back. The big lie was returning to the palace. And I, the True Queen who had the "wrong" blood, was fading away into the shadows.
"Let him go," I wheezed out, squeezing Elio’s hand. "Let him... find his son."
As the darkness began to pull at the edges of my vision, one thought stayed in my mind—cold and bitter. I should have stayed a mute. At least then, the si
lence didn't hurt this much.