"The Shattered Luna: Reborn in His Embers" Chapter 13
Chapter 13: The Revelation of the Dead
Aurelia’s POV
Three Weeks Later
Twenty-one days had passed since my feet had crossed out of Valerius’s territory, and a profound, physical ache seized my chest every single time his memory invaded my mind—which, if I were to be perfectly honest, occupied near the entirety of my waking hours. A heavy frown touched my lips as I polished the laminate counter. I could still distinctly register the raw, broken devastation vibrating through his mental voice the last time my hands had severed our link.
I desperately yearned to return to his chest, but a stark reality kept my feet anchored to the dust: since my departure, no further attacks had breached his borders, no more innocent warriors had been slaughtered, and no more blood had painted his land. I let out a slow, ragged sigh, a solitary tear escaping my lashes.
Perhaps this isolation is the highest good,
I thought bitterly. It fractured my soul to know he was suffering, and through the fragile currents of our incomplete bond, I could still distinctly feel the heavy waves of his anguish whenever his emotions crossed a certain threshold.
Presently, my structure was hiding out inside a mundane, human settlement along the coastal lines, renting a minimalist room in a low-end hotel using the meager wages from a part-time job. I was a coward; I knew that truth with absolute certainty. I should simply gather my canvas packs, march back to his estate, and claim my place at his side.
Instead, my mind continually drifted into a labyrinth of torturous hypothetical scenarios. What if my father had survived that rogue ambush? Would my paths have crossed with Valerius’s years earlier? What if my own mother hadn't branded me a murderer, but had wrapped my childhood in love? Would a fated heir already be cradled in our arms? These unanswerable questions taunted my sanity, unearthing memories of past conversations inside his master suite—most specifically the quiet evening I had confessed my desire to nurture three children when his deep baritone had questioned my future.
The Flashback
I was waiting curled on the velvet mattress for Valerius to return from his late-night perimeter sweeps. I had activated the television screen to pass the hours, knowing his boots wouldn't hit the landing for another two hours. Bored, I placed a call to Freya, inviting her to join my space to binge-watch historical dramas.
Within ten minutes, she slammed through the doors carrying an absolute arsenal of high-end snacks, and we initiated the first feature. The hours melted away in an easy blur of laughter. The moment Valerius’s scent registered in the corridor, Freya offered a dramatic wink and immediately vacated the suite. I continued watching the flickering screen, my back resting against Valerius’s broad chest as he pulled me into his space, when his deep baritone suddenly fractured the quiet.
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"Do you harbor a desire to bring children into our lineage, little bird?"
I froze, staring at the screen in absolute shock for several prolonged seconds before clearing my raw throat. "I... yes. I harbor a desire for three," I stammered, a beautiful, fragile warmth blooming in my chest as I pictured my scarred form as a mother.
Valerius looked down at my features, a spectacular, breathless smile gracing his handsome face. I couldn't suppress the genuine smile that touched my own lips as he tightened his powerful arms around my waist, anchoring my soul to his warmth.
The Present
I shook my head, blinking back the rising moisture as I returned to my chores, wiping down the tables of the mundane coffee shop. I had secured this employment the moment my feet left that abandoned northern shack; I had returned there one evening to find Valerius’s rich vanilla scent lingering so intensely in the air that staying would have meant running straight into his arms. So, I fled further, burying my structure inside this dingy hotel, saving every single dollar from my shifts. I also executed cleaning duties for the hotel manager to secure my room. I simply lacked the courage to face his gaze; I knew with absolute certainty that his inner beast would be completely furious with my choice.
My thoughts continued to spiral:
Would his crown even desire the return of a broken thing? Had his high blood already moved on to an untainted noble female?
No... my soul would have registered the fracture if his heart had aligned elsewhere. Surely, his devotion remained absolute.
A sharp, physical hunger reminded me that my system required sustenance. I stepped into the rear alcove of the café, ordering a minimalist meal. My mind was so thoroughly consumed by anxiety that I failed to note a heavy shadow crossing the floorboards—until a distinct form slid into the booth directly opposite my position.
My gaze snapped up, and my heart performing a terrified acrobatic flip. Sitting across the laminate table was Gideon—Alpha Malakor’s Beta.
He evaluated my startled features with a deep, heavy sorrow for several long moments before his lips finally parted. "Arise. Follow my lead out the rear exit."
I shook my head firmly, my hand instinctively dropping beneath the table to locate an exit route. "I am not returning to that cellar, Gideon."
"I have zero intention of inflicting violence upon your skin, Aurelia," he pleaded softly, his voice thick with a desperate, rare urgency. "The information I carry is paramount to your survival. Please."
I could see the raw desperation detailing his eyes, but my primitive anxiety was far too prominent to permit compliance. "What does Malakor know?"
Gideon sighed heavily, the sorrow never leaving his expression. "The Alpha only registers the fact that your scent is no longer present within Valerius’s borders. Which, if I am permitted to speak frankly, was an exceptionally idiotic maneuver on your part. You are remarkably lucky my trackers unearthed your location before his executioners did."
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His tone carried a harsh, defensive edge that caused my structure to cower back against the booth. He mumbled a hurried, quiet apology, sliding out of the seat. We walked in a tense, freezing silence through the rear alleyways until our feet finally crossed into a bustling public park. I turned to him, my brow furrowing in confusion.
"A highly populated, mundane location," Gideon explained, his eyes tracking the surrounding human families. "If Malakor’s sentries manage to intercept your path here, he cannot execute a violent display without exposing our kind to the mundane authorities."
My pulse accelerated instantly at his logic. "Why have your hands guided me to this space, Gideon? How did your trackers even unearth my sanctuary?"
"Believe me, your trail was exceptionally sophisticated to unravel, and I carry catastrophic intelligence," he murmured, leaning across the timber bench as he lowered his voice. "Alpha Malakor is currently structuring a terminal offensive to slaughter Valerius and seize absolute control of the Shadow Moon pack house. He recognizes his own vanguard lacks the superior numbers to breach the gates, which is precisely why he has forged a dark alliance with the rogue factions of the northern ridges."
A sharp, agonizing ache pierced my chest, and my breathing hitched violently into a panic. "How... how can that be orchestrated?" I stammered, my voice cracking.
"There remains only a solitary solution, Aurelia," Gideon muttered, his expression dropping into a cold, flat intensity. "Your hands must kill Alpha Malakor."
"What?!" The exclamation ripped from my throat, my blue eyes widening in absolute horror as my heart hammered wildly against my ribs.
"Master your control," he commanded softly, his eyes darting frantically across the public square to ensure no mundane humans had noted my outburst.
"Master my control?! How can your tongue expect me to remain calm under the weight of such madness?!" I spat venomously, my anger flaring to the surface as I glared at his features.
Gideon maintained a blank, unyielding expression before continuing to detail his bizarre strategy. "Because your blade will not strike alone. But to execute this offensive, our feet must return to the Shadow Moon borders immediately so my tongue can speak directly with your Alpha."
I narrowed my eyes, evaluating his posture with deep suspicion. "How can my soul possibly trust a single word that clears your throat, Gideon? Given the atrocities your title has served?"
A violent wave of suppressed rage finally broke through his calm exterior, his jaw clenching tightly. "Because your older sister was my fated fount, Aurelia! And my hands catastrophically failed to protect her flame from the dark! So, by the Goddess, I intend to preserve yours!"
I executed a literal spit-take, nearly choking entirely on the dark coffee in my throat. My jaw dropped in absolute shock, my eyes wide.
"Close your mouth, little bird," he muttered dryly, a shadow of pain crossing his face. "You'll catch the local insects."
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"Your mind has completely dissolved into madness," I whispered, my voice trembling with sudden denial. "You are weaving an absolute web of lies. I do not possess a sister. I am an only child—my parents had no other lineage."
Gideon shook his head, his eyes holding a profound, heartbreaking honesty that fractured my denial. "State your current age."
"Eighteen," I answered defensively.
He nodded slowly. "Does your mind truly believe your parents were simply navigating a standard timeline, bringing their very first child into this world when their bodies reached forty and forty-six years of age?"
I paused, a sudden shock freezing my thoughts as my mind logicalized his point. In the wolf world, reproduction occurred early to secure the lineage. But if his words carried a shred of truth... where were they?
"When your mother reached her twentieth year and your father walked his twenty-sixth," Gideon explained, his voice dropping into a deep, reverent sorrow, "the Moon Goddess blessed their bond with fraternal twins—a male and a female. Caelen and Seraphina."
He articulated Seraphina’s name with such a profound, shattering grief that the absolute mourning swimming in his dark eyes left me completely breathless.
"Our souls aligned when I reached my eighteenth year and she walked her sixteenth," he confessed softly, staring at his palms. "Our reality was a sanctuary of pure happiness—until Malakor claimed the Alpha crown through blood. He... he brutally slaughtered her because her spirit refused to accept his noble title and mate with his beast. He possessed full knowledge that her soul was my fated fount, that our bond was fully mated and sealed in blood. But he is a parasite, a monster who harbors zero reverence for anything but his own supremacy."
The sheer volume of unadulterated rage and ancient mourning detailing his features was suffocating.
"I am... I am so sorry, Gideon," I whispered, my voice breaking as the weight of his sacrifice shattered my defenses. "Did his blades... did he slaughter my brother as well?"
Gideon looked up, a slow shake of his head unearthing a miniscule, fragile spark of hope that lit up the dark corners of my chest.
"Caelen pursued Malakor’s life," Gideon explained, his expression turning grim. "The boy was completely blinded by a cataclysmic fury, his beast entering a bordering-on-feral state. In all my years, my eyes have never witnessed such terrifying anger and physical dominance from a lower-ranked wolf. He was so utterly consumed by the slaughter of his twin that his claws almost succeeded in tearing Malakor’s throat out. But your father intervened at the terminal second. Garrick pinned his own son into the dirt, ordering him to run as far as his paws could carry him and never look back if he wished to preserve his flame. As far as my intelligence tracks, your brother could be navigating any corner of the continent."
Because our kind ages at a remarkably slower velocity than mundane humans, my mind calculated that while his chronological age might rest in his early thirties, his physical form would still project the vitality of a male in his twenties.
"So, stripped of all semantics... I possess no remaining family, and every single shred of this ruin belongs to Malakor’s name," I snarled, my raw anger flaring to the surface as I slammed my fist violently against the timber park bench. "He has to die! He slaughtered your fated mate—why on earth did your feet choose to remain at his side as his Beta? And your tongue claims you are trying to protect my existence because you failed her? What my flesh endured... the systematic torture he inflicted upon my childhood... it was a living hell, Gideon! She received a swift death; I was kept alive to be broken! How can you claim your title was helping me?!"
"Because when the terminal curtain falls on this conflict, Aurelia, our hands are going to execute his slaughter together," Gideon stated, his voice dropping into a chillingly calm, terrifyingly flat pitch. "And I intend to ensure his extraction is ten times more slow and agonizing than the torment his hands inflicted upon your childhood. I offer my profound apologies that my position could not alleviate more of your pain... I am truly, deeply sorry."
He hung his head in an absolute gesture of heavy shame. I offered a slow, stiff nod, my mind beginning to comprehend the torturous checkmate he had been playing for seven long years.
"Detail our operational path," I questioned, locking my sapphire gaze directly into his eyes. "What must our hands execute?"
"Our feet must return to Valerius immediately, informing his vanguard of the alliance before Malakor’s forces breach the ridge," he claimed firmly. He reached across the timber, grabbing my hand and squeezing it with a tight, bordering-on-desperate intensity. "I swear a fated vow to your soul, Aurelia: I will avenge Seraphina’s flame, and I will assist your crown in tracking down Caelen’s path."
"A solitary final inquiry," I murmured, my mind spinning. Gideon offered a curt nod. "Why did my father or mother never permit this secret to breach my ears?"
"Because if Malakor’s spies had discovered that Garrick actively permitted Caelen to escape execution, his blades would have immediately slaughtered your small form as a terminal act of vengeance," Gideon whispered, his words a heavy weight. "Your bloodline kept your siblings a absolute secret to guarantee he wouldn't execute the same sentence upon your childhood that he served to Seraphina—though, looking at the scars lining your skin, I recognize that swift extraction might have been far more merciful than the hell he chose to inflict."
A bitter, hollow scoff escaped my throat at his logic. I could offer nothing but a mute nod; the sheer volume of this monumental revelation had left my mind completely shocked, unable to process anything save for a single, unyielding, lethal clarity:
Alpha Malakor was going to bleed.
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