Chapter 16: What Blood Awakens

I did not sleep after Kael left.

Whatever had weakened him last night still echoed faintly through the bond, like a bruise I could not see

The room still carried him.

His warning.

The way he had looked at me like I was something between a responsibility and a problem.

I was sitting by the window when the knock came.

Not the sharp knock of authority. Not a guard.

Two short taps.

"Elara," I said before she could announce herself.

She stepped in and shut the door quickly behind her. Her eyes were alert, not sleepy. She had been up too.

"There’s someone at the outer gate," she said. "From Ebonvale."

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Ebonvale. My home. My family.

"They came that fast?" I asked, standing.

She hesitated. That was the first sign. "Yes."

Hope is a dangerous thing. It does not ask for permission before rising. It does not check logic before convincing you that maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.

Maybe they had worried. Maybe they had regretted it the moment I left.

Maybe my letter last night had shaken something loose in them.

"Who did he ask for?" I asked.

Elara’s jaw tightened slightly. "He did not ask for you."

The hope did not disappear. It simply shifted shape. "Then who?"

"He handed a sealed message to one of the gate guards."

My fingers curled against my palm. "Kael’s guard?"

"No."

That word landed heavier than the others. Not Kael’s guard.

"Which one?" I asked carefully.

"Elric. The one assigned to the east corridor. He’s not part of the Alpha’s inner circle."

I stared at her.

The messenger did not ask for me. He did not ask for Kael. He did not wait for formal reception.

He came with something prepared. He knew exactly who to hand it to.

"How long was he at the gate?" I asked.

"Less than five minutes. He left immediately after."

"And no one stopped him?"

"He carried Ebonvale’s crest openly," she said. "No one would suspect—"

"—a father sending greetings to his married daughter?" I finished.

Elara did not answer.

I walked away from the window slowly, my mind arranging the pieces before my pride could interfere.

I sent a letter last night. Before dawn, a messenger arrives. He does not seek me. He does not seek my husband.

He delivers something directly to a guard who does not answer to Kael personally.

This was not a response. It was continuation.

They were already speaking to someone inside Blackmoor.

My letter had not triggered this. It simply crossed paths with it.

I heard Kael’s voice in my head from the night before.

Stick to your role.

I almost laughed. My role.

Was this part of it too? To smile while messages passed over my head? To sit at the head table during a ceremony while the real conversations happened in corridors?

"Did anyone open it?" I asked.

Elara shook her head. "Not that I know of. But I cannot access the guard wing without raising questions."

I nodded.

That small flicker of hope finally died properly. Not dramatically. Not painfully.

Just quietly.

"They never cared whether I survived here," I said, more to myself than to her. "They cared that I fulfilled a purpose."

Elara took a cautious step closer. "What do you want to do?"

I did not answer immediately. Because something else had begun to stir.

It started behind my ribs. A familiar tightening. Not pain. Pressure.

The same sensation I had felt before the visions.

I steadied myself against the table.

Elara noticed immediately. "It’s happening again, isn’t it?"

The room shifted.

Not physically.

But my awareness did.

The edge of the table pressed painfully into my hip before I realized I had leaned against it.

The walls remained the same, the furniture unchanged, but something underneath it peeled back like a thin layer of fabric.

I saw her. The woman from before. Not clearly. Not perfectly. But closer.

She was kneeling this time. Not crying. Not frantic. Focused.

Her hands were moving with purpose over a small object on the floor.

A pendant. Dark stone set in silver.

She pressed her thumb against the edge of it until blood welled. She did not hesitate. She smeared it across the surface, whispering something I could not hear.

Then she sealed it. Not with wax. Not with thread but with intention.

The vision snapped away.

I inhaled sharply and realized I was gripping Elara’s arm hard enough to leave marks.

"Sorry," I said, releasing her.

"My lady, are you okay?"

"It was the same presence I felt yesterday," I said slowly. "But clearer this time."

"What did you see?" she asked.

"A woman," I said. " probably one of them."

She did not ask which them. We both knew.

"The previous wives," she said quietly.

I nodded.

"She hid something," I continued. "She cut her palm and sealed it with blood."

Elara stared at me for a long moment, weighing whether fear or belief should win.

"What did she seal?"

"A pendant."

Silence stretched between us.

Then I said, "Bring me a dagger."

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"A small one. Sharp."

Her face drained of color. "my lady—"

"Bring it."

"If anyone finds out—"

"They won’t," I said calmly. "Unless you tell them."

That stung. I saw it in her expression.

"I would never—"

"I know," I said, softer. "That’s why I’m asking you."

She stood there for another second, then left the room.

When she returned, she carried a slender blade usually used for trimming leather. Practical. Clean.

She handed it to me reluctantly. My hands did not shake. That surprised me.

If I was wrong, I would only prove what they already believed about me

I placed the dagger against my palm and pressed.

The sting was immediate. Sharp. Real. Blood surfaced quickly.

Elara stepped forward instinctively. "That’s enough."

I moved to the Conner I saw in my vision,

I let my blood fall onto its surface.

Nothing happened.

Elara let out a breath that sounded almost relieved. Then the stone grew warm.

Not hot.

Just warm enough that I felt it against my skin.

The silver lines around its edge began to shift slightly, revealing faint etchings that had not been visible before.

Elara leaned closer. "It’s changing." she said shakingly clinging on to me

The stone split along a thin seam.

Inside it, a pendant rested in a hollow groove.

When I lifted it, it rose slightly from my palm

not thrown, not pulled -

just hovering between my hands.

I stumbled back a step in shock. Elera scream and I quickly press my hands on her mouth.

The pendant did not glow dramatically. It did not burst open. It pulsed. Slow. Steady. Like a heartbeat.

Then it stopped and dropped back into my hand. We both stared at it.

"That’s it?" Elara whispered.

I examined the surface carefully. The etchings were clearer now.

A crest. Not Ebonvale, but Blackmoor.

The ceremonial circle symbol. I swallowed.

"It’s not finished," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"It reacted," I said. "But it didn’t open."

As if agreeing, the stone cooled completely.

Still sealed. Waiting.

"For what?" Elara asked.

I thought of Isolade’s voice.

The ceremony. All wolves will shift. Even you will be expected to stand beside him.

I thought of Kael’s warning, stick to your role.

And I thought of the woman in my vision, Kneeling. Preparing.

Not panicking. Planning.

"It needs something else," I said slowly.

"What?"

"Not just blood. Something larger."

Elara frowned. "Alpha blood?"

I shook my head.

"If it required his blood, it would have reacted differently when he touched me before."

She blinked. "You’re certain?"

"Yes."

Because I would have felt it. The bond would have responded. This was different.

I turned the pendant over again and traced the ceremonial crest.

"It’s waiting for the ceremony," I said.

Elara’s eyes widened slightly. "You think it’s tied to it?"

"Yes."

This wasn’t random protection.

It was timed

"If that’s true," Elara said carefully, "then whatever is inside... it will reveal itself in front of everyone."

"Or when I step into that circle," I replied.

The implication settled heavily between us.The ceremony was not just political, It was a stage.

And someone before me had prepared something to be revealed on it.

"my lady ," Elara said quietly, "if this exposes something about the previous wives, about how they died—"

"Then it will not stay hidden," I finished.

She looked afraid. Not for herself. For me.

"You already have enemies here," she said. "If this proves the wives were not mad... if it suggests foul play..."

I ignored her and reached for the small velvet pouch hidden beneath the bottom drawer of the dressing table.

I had found it yesterday right after I discover the words ’Again’.

I had not known what to do with it. Until now.

I wrapped the pendant in the velvet 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

pouch, this time keeping it with me instead of hiding it.

Outside the door, I heard distant movement in the corridor. Voices. Guards changing shift.

Blackmoor was waking. So was I.

"My family is involved," I said finally.

The words felt wrong the moment I spoke them.

Not involved.

Responsible.

Elara met my gaze. "You’re certain?"

"They did not respond to me," I said. "They communicated with someone else. Before my letter even reached them."

She did not argue.

"What will you do?" she asked.

I walked back to the window.

The courtyard below was quiet for now, but in two days it would be filled with wolves in their true forms. Running. Displaying. Claiming.

And I would stand there. A Luna who could not shift. A bride they thought was powerless.

"They expect me to endure it," I said.

"The ceremony?"

"Everything." I turned to face her. "I will attend."

Her breath caught. "Of course you will. You have to."

"No," I said. "I will attend prepared."

There was a difference. A clear one.

"I won’t confront my family yet," I continued. "Not without proof. Not without knowing who inside these walls is working with them."

"And Alpha?" she asked carefully.

The bond between us flickered faintly, as if aware of being mentioned.

"I don’t know yet," I admitted. "If he is unaware, then he is vulnerable. If he is aware..."

I did not finish. Because I did not want to imagine that possibility fully.

Elara stepped closer. "You’re not alone."

I almost smiled. "I know." That was new.

Outside, a horn sounded in the distance.

A signal, Morning announcement. Blackmoor beginning another day.

But this time, I was not waiting to see what it would do to me.

I pressed my palm against the pouch at my waist and felt the faintest pulse from within.

Not active. Not open. Just waiting.

Two days.

If the pendant needed the ceremony, I would give it the ceremony.

Whatever Amelia—the fourth Luna—had bled to hide inside it...

whatever truth she died protecting...

would rise with me.

This time, I would not step into that circle unarmed.