When The Moon Remembers

Chapter 9: The Bargain

Vaeleic’s Pov

Leaving the old man’s chambers gave me more ease than I’d felt in years. My father, the Lycan King, had summoned all his children—sons and the sisters no one dared speak of because they were considered too precious to mention. He never called us together. Not unless it was something grave. The last time we stood in one place had been the day I killed the two monsters he called sons. I carried no regrets for it.

Perhaps the king was weakening. After three centuries, even a predator’s body begins to rot beneath the crown.

“Vael.”

I stopped. Only one voice shortened my name, and it was Aldren’s. My brother stepped into the corridor, just finishing a quiet exchange with Kaelen.

“Good to see you again,” Aldren said, as though I’d been gone for decades instead of years.

I had only left the palace after the tragic incident. Father had sent me to serve as watchdog of the realm—a punishment for blood I did not regret spilling. I could have disobeyed, but I didn’t. Strangely, rumor never carried this piece of exile far.

For reasons I couldn’t name, I didn’t answer him. I only nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were back?” Aldren pressed. “Seeing you swoop in to save the girl startled me, then seeing you in court… and now at Father’s summons today…” He scoffed, half-amused, half-accusing, unlike me.

“I grew tired of being the realm’s hound,” I replied evenly. “So I came back.”

Aldren’s mouth twitched, caught between brotherly warmth and old resentment. He finally settled for patting my shoulder. “I haven’t had time to say it properly—but welcome back, Vael.”

Then he turned, muttering about court affairs as he disappeared down the corridor without a backward glance.

Eldric. Rigid as ever, as though he were carved from stone and chained to his duty. He stood near the exit, posture straight, head bowed the instant our eyes met. One might have mistaken him for my bodyguard—though he was no such thing. And yet, he lingered close, loyal in ways few dared.

“We will go hunting, Eldric,” I said, not slowing. “Get the things ready.”

“Yes, Prince.”

Hunting has always been the one part of this cursed life that feels like freedom. Out here, away from the stone walls and whispered politics, I can breathe. No eyes judging me. No chains of duty dragging me down. Just the silence of the forest… and the chase.

Eldric is still at my side—he always is. Perhaps he fears me, perhaps he doesn’t, but he respects enough to never turn his back when I shift. I’ve seen the flicker of terror in his eyes, the quick prayer he swallows each time bones break and fur bursts from skin. But he acts strong. He stays. That’s reason enough for me to keep him.

The forest closed around us, thick and dark—the perfect sanctuary for me. Here, no one interrupts. Here, I am what I am.

“You don’t always have to follow me, Eldric,” I said, stripping off the last of my restraint, preparing to embrace the form people feared most.

He didn’t answer, only kept his head lowered.

I let the beast rise.

I am Lycan. I shift when I please.

The scents of the forest rushed to me in waves—deer, hare, fox—life trembling, waiting to be devoured. A growl built low in my chest, rising into a howl that split the night. The sound echoed through the trees, primal, violent. I saw Eldric flinch, though he forced himself not to run. Brave fool. Loyal fool.

My bones cracked, stretched, reshaped. Claws tore from flesh. Fur ripped through skin. My vision sharpened until I could see everything—every leaf trembling in the wind, every heartbeat pounding in the undergrowth.

I had become the monster they whispered about. And tonight, the forest would remember me.

I had barely torn through the trail of a rabbit when a sound split the night. Drums. Sharp, loud—unnatural. Beating closer, closer, until it clawed at my hunt and rattled through the marrow of my bones.

What was it doing here, now, in my forest? My ears twitched, the Lycan in me tensing, thirsting. Let it be a foolish beta. Or an omega. Anything I could sink my teeth into.

The rustling came too fast. And then it was here.

It didn’t see me. Too late for it. I lunged, a shadow in motion, sending the intruder sprawling into the bed of dead leaves. My claws dug into earth and flesh alike, my jaws poised to rip through its throat—

And then—

A scream.

A scent.

That scent.

It slammed into me like chains. Fury ripped through my chest, not because I wanted to devour her… but because I couldn’t. Half of me raged to bite, to end the torment, but the other half—the cursed, wretched half—refused.

I froze above her.

What was she doing here? At this hour? Why did fate keep pushing her into places she didn’t belong?

I had sworn to keep away. To never cross her path again. Because she made me restless. Because every time she was near, I lost myself. And yet here she was, sprawled beneath me, her cloak tangled, her hair scattered across her face like wild silk. Her chest heaved, heart hammering so violently it nearly deafened me.

Little fox.

Fear clung to her—yet she looked at me, those wide eyes snaring me like a spell. I hated it. I hated the way the world broke apart whenever she was near.

I slowly pulled myself off her, claws sinking into the soil as I fought the urge to dig back into her warmth. The beast in me snarled, restless, but another thought—far more dangerous—coiled in my head.

Shift.

The word echoed in me, tempting and damning all at once.

If I returned to my true form, she would see me as I am. Not the beast, but the man. And yet, shifting was no simple act of magic—it tore through flesh and bone, shredding everything I wore. Which meant standing before her bare, stripped of armor, stripped of dignity.

I always prepared for it. I always pulled my clothes aside before I shifted, because once the Lycan took over, fabric became nothing more than ruins. But tonight, there had been no thought for modesty, no time for care. And now, here she was beneath me, staring up with those wide, haunted eyes.

Did she know what it meant? Did she know the danger in seeing me this way?

Eldric was gone. I had heard him break away into the trees, leaving me with the freedom to hunt. No watchful eyes. No one to intervene. Just me, the beast still half-clawing at my skin, and Elowen Thaloris lying there in her cloak like some fragile offering to the night.

If I stayed in this form, I remained the monster she already feared. If I shifted back, I revealed more than I ever intended.

The beast inside me clawed at my ribs, demanding I stay in this form. Safer. Stronger. Untouchable. But her scent—gods, that maddening scent—wrapped around me until I could no longer breathe. It pulled me closer, pressed claws against my restraint, and whispered the one thing I swore never to allow.

My body convulsed, bones cracking as the shift began. Fur burned away into skin, claws retracting with a scrape that echoed through the trees. My spine arched, twisted, and snapped until I stood bare—raw, stripped, painfully human. The grotesque symphony of tearing flesh and splintering bone faded into stillness.

I straightened, chest heaving, the night air biting against scarred skin. No armor. No cloak. No walls. Only me. And her.

Elowen gasped, scrambling back into the leaves, her cloak dragging with her like a flimsy shield. Fear widened her eyes—but it wasn’t just fear. Something deeper flickered there. Something I couldn’t name.

“Little fox…” The words rasped out of me, torn between warning and confession.

Her heartbeat thundered in my ears, louder than any hunt, louder than the drums that had ruined my kill. She should have run. But she didn’t. She stared, as if the man before her was far more dangerous than the monster she’d just seen.

And then—her lips parted. No hesitation. No trembling.

“Marry me.”

The night fractured around us. For a heartbeat, I thought I had misheard. Naked, scarred, and laid bare before her, I was the one disarmed. She wasn’t a little fox. I had underestimated her. She was something far more dangerous.