Chapter 20
Abigail's POV
The silence that followed Cassandra's words felt like a layer of ice forming over the square. I could feel every gaze pressing down on me like a blade.
"Corrosion Stone?" someone in the crowd repeated in a low voice, the words spreading like poison dropped into water.
"I've heard of those," another voice chimed in. "They're cursed stones that corrupt a wolf's soul, weaken our connection to our inner beast."
Elodie's knuckles tightened on the Moon's Tear's surface, her gaze moving back and forth between the stone, me, and Cassandra, her brow slowly furrowing.
"What are you talking about?"
Cassandra stepped forward, her smile growing even brighter, as if she'd finally pressed a switch she'd been waiting to activate.
"I mean that Abigail may have been deceived by a dishonest merchant." She deliberately paused, letting the air itself congeal. "Or—she knows exactly what she's given you."
The murmurs around us surged up all at once. Guests leaned close to their companions, lowering their voices yet making no effort to hide their scrutiny of me.
"Cursed..."
"Bad luck..."
"How shameful..."
Fragmented words drilled into my ears, like tiny needles constantly pricking my chest.
Before I could speak, Olivia had already glided forward gracefully, positioning herself between us. Her face wore perfect concern, her voice so gentle it was almost like soothing a frightened animal:
"Oh, Cassandra, you must be mistaken. Abigail would never do such a thing intentionally. She must have been deceived by that merchant."
She spoke so thoughtfully, as if rescuing me from an awkward situation. But every word sounded like she was gently pinning "stupid" and "ignorant" onto me.
"Is it true?"
Elodie turned to me. "Abigail?"
I met her gaze directly. "This is not a Corrosion Stone. This is a Moon's Tear."
"But how can you be certain?" Cassandra's tone was so soft it almost dripped honey. "These stones look almost identical. If you don't know what to look for—"
"I know what I bought." I cut her off, not moving my gaze from Elodie. "This stone is genuine."
At this moment, Elodie's father—the Alpha of Nighthowl Pack—walked out from the hall entrance where he'd been standing. His gaze swept over each of us in turn, his expression calm and inscrutable.
"Since there are questions about the nature of this gift," he said, "let's verify it."
He gestured to an attendant beside him: "Fetch Elder Rowan. Have him take a look."
The crowd automatically parted to let the attendant through. The surrounding murmurs, though still present, were noticeably suppressed, as if forcibly constrained by the Alpha's demeanor, rustling only in the shadows.
I could feel Olivia's gaze clinging to me. Without looking, I could imagine her satisfaction and certainty at this moment. Cassandra crossed her arms over her chest, the corners of her mouth slowly lifting, as if the outcome were already clear and she was only waiting for the official verdict.
Time stretched out long and viscous. Every second reminded me: this trap had been carefully designed by them.
Finally, an elderly wolf emerged from the hall. His hair was white as frost and snow, his face lined with fine wrinkles, yet his steps were steady and strong. His elder's robe was simple and plain, yet commanded natural respect. As soon as he appeared, the noise in the square dropped noticeably, as if pressed down by an invisible hand.
Elodie's father handed the Moon's Tear to him: "Elder Rowan, we need your judgment. Please confirm the true properties of this stone."
Elder Rowan carefully accepted the stone, his rough fingertips slowly tracing its surface. He first held it up to the firelight, then raised it to the moonlight, a faint gleam flowing in his eyes. The surroundings fell completely silent, everyone seeming to hold their breath.
After what felt like a long time, he drew a small bottle containing clear liquid from the pouch at his waist. Uncorking it, he let a single, carefully measured drop fall onto the stone's surface.
The liquid made a faint "hiss" as it touched the stone.
My heart suddenly clenched.
In that instant, I even had the absurd thought—had they somehow managed to switch the real stone? Had I overlooked some step?
But the next second, the liquid began to glow.
A soft silvery-white radiance spread from the point of contact, like a slowly beating heart. The light rippled outward in circles, growing brighter and brighter until it enveloped the entire stone. The silver glow reflected on the faces of the onlookers, surprise and awe clearly visible.
Elder Rowan lifted his head, his voice steady and certain:
"This is a Moon's Tear. Without doubt, the test has proven everything."
The crowd immediately erupted, no longer with the malicious whispers from before, but with irrepressible admiration and praise.
"It really is a Moon's Tear..."
"I've only seen them in books..."
"So rare..."
My tense chest finally relaxed somewhat, but I still maintained a calm expression, allowing my shoulders to loosen just imperceptibly.
Cassandra's smile froze on her face. She widened her eyes, her jaw working slightly:
"This is impossible. I clearly—"
"You were mistaken."
Elder Rowan interrupted her, his tone calm. He respectfully returned the Moon's Tear to Elodie. "This is an extremely rare and precious protective stone that will bring protection to its wearer. Miss Rodriguez chose very well."
Elodie lowered her head to gaze at the light in her palm, her fingertips gently caressing the stone. When she looked up at me again, the confusion in her eyes had dissipated, leaving only genuine gratitude and soft warmth.
"Abigail..." she said softly, "thank you. This gift is too... too special."
"I'm glad you like it."
Olivia took another graceful step forward, her face still wearing that sickeningly sweet smile, even though the tightness at the corners of her eyes betrayed her.
"Oh, Cassandra, you must have made a mistake." She spoke in an almost pitying tone. "In front of all these people—this must be so embarrassing for you."
Her words appeared to push Cassandra forward as a shield on the surface, but actually she was quickly extracting herself, drawing a clear line between herself and the accusation just made.
But Cassandra was clearly not willing to give up. She raised her voice slightly, almost with panic:
"I don't understand. I saw that merchant in the market—the stone he was selling looked exactly like this one. He said it was a Corrosion Stone that would—"
"Perhaps," I interrupted her, my tone still steady, "next time before you spread rumors at an awakening ceremony, you should verify your sources first. This is not the place for you to play with gossip."
A few voices of agreement emerged from the crowd, someone muttering under their breath: "Smearing someone at such an occasion is really too much."
Cassandra's face flushed red, anger and shame nearly robbing her of speech.