Chapter 68: Chapter 68 – The One Who Failed Before

Chapter 68 – The One Who Failed Before

POV: Amelia

The fortress looked different from a distance.

Smaller.

Not physically. Blackmoor was still massive, still carved into the mountain like it had been built to survive wars long before the current generation was born. But distance stripped power from things. It made them look quieter than they really were.

Amelia stood beneath the cover of the trees overlooking the western ridge, her hood pulled low enough to shadow most of her face as her gaze remained fixed on the fortress walls.

She had spent years avoiding this place.

Years avoiding the memories attached to it.

And somehow she still ended up back here.

The irony would have been amusing if anything about this felt amusing anymore.

The wind shifted lightly around her, carrying the distant sound of movement from inside the walls. Guards changing position. Training calls from the lower grounds. Wolves moving through routines they believed were stable.

They had no idea what was happening inside those walls.

Or maybe some of them did.

That was the problem with Blackmoor. Secrets survived longer there than people did.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the pendant hidden beneath her cloak. Not the real one. Never the real one. Just a replacement she had carried for years to avoid questions whenever anyone noticed the chain around her neck.

The real pendant was already inside Blackmoor.

With her.

Amelia closed her eyes briefly.

Liora.

Even thinking the girl’s name left something heavy sitting in her chest.

She had tried not to interfere at first. When word reached her about Kael taking another wife from Ebonvale, she ignored it. When rumors followed about the wolfless Luna who survived things she shouldn’t have survived, she ignored those too.

Because she had spent years convincing herself that surviving Blackmoor meant staying far away from it.

But then the reports changed.

The visions.

The ceremony. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

The pendant reacting.

And suddenly Amelia found herself standing outside the fortress she nearly died escaping from, watching another girl walk directly into the same trap.

Only this time, it was worse.

Because Liora was already showing signs Amelia never managed to reach herself.

Her gaze shifted toward one of the upper balconies automatically, toward the section of the fortress where the Luna chambers sat.

Quiet.

Still.

From this distance she couldn’t see Liora directly, but she could feel enough to know she was there.

Awake.

Changing.

Amelia swallowed slowly and looked away.

The last time she ignored her instincts, nine women died after her.

Nine.

The number never stopped following her.

At first she used to memorize their names intentionally because she was afraid forgetting them would make her just as guilty as the people who killed them. Then eventually the names stopped needing effort because they stayed with her naturally.

Selene.

Mariel.

Tessa.

Celine.

Women who arrived hopeful. Careful. Nervous.

Women who believed becoming Luna meant survival.

Women who died before they even understood what they were trapped inside.

And Amelia had watched all of it happen from a distance because surviving had turned into hiding, and hiding had slowly become its own kind of cowardice.

"You came back after all."

The voice came from behind her, calm enough that Amelia didn’t react outwardly even though her body tensed immediately beneath the cloak.

She already knew who it was before she turned.

Elder Maris stood several feet behind her near the tree line, her expression unreadable in the fading light.

Amelia let out a quiet breath through her nose. "You’re getting slower," she said. "You used to hide your presence better."

Maris looked unimpressed. "And you used to know when staying away was safer."

Amelia almost laughed at that.

"Safer for who?"

Neither of them answered immediately.

The silence between them carried too much history for easy conversation. Too many years. Too many things neither of them spoke about anymore.

Maris stepped closer slowly, her gaze shifting briefly toward the fortress before returning to Amelia. "You’ve been watching her for days."

It wasn’t a question.

Amelia didn’t bother denying it. "And you’ve been pretending not to notice."

Maris folded her arms. "You shouldn’t be here."

"She’s awakening."

The words came out sharper than Amelia intended.

Maris’s expression changed almost invisibly at that, not surprise exactly, but recognition.

So she knew too.

Of course she did.

"You feel it," Amelia continued quietly. "Don’t pretend you don’t."

Maris held her gaze for several seconds before speaking. "What I feel is none of your concern anymore."

Amelia’s jaw tightened slightly.

"That’s where you’re wrong," she said. "Because the moment another girl stepped into that fortress carrying the same traits we did, it became my concern again."

The air between them shifted heavily after that.

Not from hostility.

From truth.

Maris looked away first.

For years nobody spoke openly about it. Not the symptoms. Not the failed awakenings. Not the women whose bodies reacted differently during the ceremonies. Blackmoor buried those things quickly, wrapped them in stories about instability or weakness or madness until eventually nobody questioned it anymore.

But Amelia remembered.

She remembered every painful second of it.

The fever.

The visions.

The way her body stopped feeling entirely human during the final weeks before the ceremony.

And worst of all, she remembered the hope.

Because hope was what ruined her.

"You should have left her ignorant," Maris said eventually. "It would have been kinder."

"Kinder?" Amelia repeated quietly.

Her laugh this time held no humor at all.

"You think ignorance saved any of them?"

Maris didn’t answer.

Amelia looked back toward the fortress again, her gaze distant now.

"When I arrived here, Seraphina told me I was special." Her voice remained calm, but the memory underneath it was anything but. "She watched me constantly. Tested me constantly. Every injury. Every fever. Every reaction. At the time I thought it was because she wanted a strong Luna."

Her throat tightened slightly.

"I didn’t understand I was being studied."

Maris’s expression hardened faintly. "Enough."

"No," Amelia said immediately. "Not this time."

For a moment neither woman moved.

Then Amelia continued anyway.

"I carried the traits too," she said quietly. "Not all of them. Not enough. But enough that my body reacted during the first ceremony."

The memories came back too easily once she started speaking.

The ceremonial circle.

The burning under her skin.

The way the wolves around her suddenly reacted like something unfamiliar had entered the room.

And Seraphina watching all of it without blinking once.

"I almost awakened," Amelia admitted. "That’s what terrified them."

Maris’s face remained controlled, but Amelia saw it anyway, the brief flicker of discomfort before it disappeared again.

"Except I failed."

The words settled heavily between them.

Amelia looked down briefly at her hands.

"The change never completed. My body couldn’t sustain it." Her voice lowered slightly. "And once Seraphina realized that, everything changed."

No more protection.

No more attention.

No more pretending she mattered beyond usefulness.

Instead came isolation. Observation. Punishment disguised as treatment.

And eventually—

The experiments.

Amelia shut that thought down immediately before it could fully surface.

Even now she hated remembering that room.

The chains.

The silver restraints.

The women before her who never walked back out.

Her breathing slowed carefully as she forced herself back into the present.

"She survived longer than they expected," Maris said quietly after a while.

Amelia looked up sharply. "You say that like survival was ever the goal."

Maris held her gaze. "You don’t understand the full situation."

"And you do?"

Something colder entered Amelia’s expression then.

"No," she continued before Maris could answer. "You understand enough to stay loyal because fear made you practical. Don’t mistake that for understanding."

Maris’s jaw tightened.

For the first time since arriving, Amelia saw something close to guilt move through the older woman’s face before it disappeared again beneath control.

"She’s pregnant," Maris said finally. "Things are already unstable. Interfering now could make everything worse."

Amelia stared at her for a long moment.

Then she said quietly, "That’s exactly why I can’t leave her alone."

The wind moved again between them, colder this time.

Below the ridge, movement flickered near one of the side entrances as guards changed positions along the western wall.

Blackmoor continued functioning normally.

As if it wasn’t preparing to consume another woman alive.

Amelia looked back toward the fortress slowly.

"She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her yet," she said. "She still thinks this is about survival. About politics. About Seraphina wanting control."

Maris stayed silent.

"But it’s bigger than that," Amelia continued. "And once the awakening reaches the final stage, none of them will care whether she survives it."

Her fingers tightened again around the hidden chain beneath her cloak.

Because she remembered that too.

The moment they stopped seeing her as a person.

The moment she became possibility instead.

Liora was already approaching that stage faster than Amelia ever had.

The visions alone proved it.

And if the pendant had responded—

Amelia closed her eyes briefly.

God.

The pendant.

She had hidden that thing believing nobody would ever find it unless they carried the same blood reaction she did. Even then, she assumed it would stay dormant for years.

Instead Liora activated it almost immediately.

That alone terrified her more than she wanted to admit.

"She’s stronger than I was," Amelia said quietly.

Maris didn’t deny it.

"And if nobody explains what that means before the ceremony..." Amelia swallowed slowly. "She’ll make the same mistake I did."

"What mistake?" Maris asked carefully.

Amelia looked at her then.

Really looked at her.

"At the end," she said softly, "when my body started changing, I trusted them."

The words felt disgusting even now.

"I thought if I obeyed long enough, if I endured long enough, they would help me survive it." Her voice hardened slightly. "Instead they locked me in chains and waited to see what I would become."

Maris looked shaken for the first time.

Not because she didn’t know.

Because she did.

Amelia saw it immediately.

"You knew," she said quietly.

Maris’s silence answered loudly enough.

Something ugly twisted in Amelia’s chest at that realization, not surprise anymore because she was too tired for surprise, but disappointment so deep it barely felt emotional at all.

"All those women," Amelia said slowly. "And you still stayed."

Maris looked away.

"That fortress survives because everyone inside it learns how to look away eventually," Amelia continued. "That’s the only reason Seraphina keeps winning."

The words settled heavily between them.

For a while neither woman spoke.

Then Amelia finally stepped back from the ridge.

Decision settling into her expression fully now.

Maris noticed immediately. "What are you planning?"

Amelia pulled her hood back slightly, revealing more of her face for the first time.

Older now.

Harder.

But still carrying traces of the woman Blackmoor once introduced as Kael’s fourth Luna.

"I’m going to speak to her."

Maris’s expression sharpened instantly. "That’s dangerous."

"Yes," Amelia agreed calmly. "For them."

The older woman stared at her carefully. "If Seraphina discovers you’re alive—"

"She already suspects."

Amelia adjusted the cloak around her shoulders before turning toward the path leading lower along the ridge.

Then she stopped briefly.

"When the changes begin," she said quietly without turning back, "Liora is going to think the power itself is killing her."

Maris remained silent behind her.

"But it isn’t," Amelia continued. "It’s the suppression. The forcing. The restraint."

The memory of silver chains flashed through her mind again so vividly her chest tightened.

"She needs the truth before they convince her to fear herself."

"And if she doesn’t believe you?" Maris asked.

Amelia looked back toward the fortress one final time.

Toward the girl unknowingly walking toward the exact nightmare Amelia barely escaped herself.

Then she answered softly,

"If no one tells her the truth... she will die exactly the way I almost did."