When The Moon Remembers

Chapter 5: Little Fox

Elowen’s Pov

We arrived at the palace just as the evening ball was in full swing. Carriages rolled up in a steady line, their polished wheels crunching over gravel, noblewomen stepping down with practiced grace, their laughter and whispers weaving together like threads of silk and venom.

I peered through the carriage’s small cutout, catching flashes of jeweled gowns under the glow of lanterns. Serenya was the first to descend, not hesitating for a moment. Nights like this were her element—each grand gathering another chance to display her beauty and sharpen her claws. Pity she wasn’t fated to the Lycan prince… at least, not yet.

Mother shifted beside me, smoothing her skirts before reaching for the door. She paused when she noticed I hadn’t moved. Her expression fell into that familiar, tired disappointment—the kind that said she was done coaxing me into happiness I didn’t feel.

“Wen,” she said softly, but her fingers tightened around mine before she stepped down, dragging me with her into the cool night air.

The moment my feet touched the marble steps, it began. Whispers curling through the crowd. Stares that lingered too long. Faces turning away just quickly enough to pretend they weren’t looking. Tonight, I had promised myself I wouldn’t care. I had one mission—to find my savior and thank him. How bold of me.

My gaze swept the courtyard and inevitably landed on Kaelen. Of course, he wasn’t alone. At his side was the same girl from that night—Lyra Fenwicke, as I’d learned after some quiet inquiries. Not that it mattered. Whatever I had once felt for Kaelen had died the night he looked at me like I was a blemish on his perfect world. Beautiful? He’d said so. But his eyes had told the truth—he saw me as everyone else did.

I slipped my hand from Mother’s grip, lengthening my stride without so much as glancing at him or his newfound companion.

The ballroom doors opened before me, and the first thing I noticed was the weight in the air. Not the warmth of merriment, but something colder. The music, soft and thin, dragged along like a hymn for the dead. Couples danced, but their movements felt forced, their smiles fixed.

It wasn’t me they were reacting to.

My eyes traveled toward the dais—and froze. The King. His two sons. And—

It was as if he’d been waiting for me to look. Silver eyes caught mine and held them fast, cold light slicing through the distance between us. They didn’t just see me—they read me, as though peeling back each guarded thought.

The third prince.

I’d never seen him seated there before. No wonder the room felt lifeless. His presence drew the energy from the air, leaving only that sharp, silent gravity. And yet… there was something else. A familiarity I couldn’t place, as though I’d known those eyes long before he’d saved me.

His features were sharper in the lamplight, a sculpted cruelty softened only by the shadow of the crown’s insignia embroidered at his collar. I told myself not to stare. Not to let my gaze linger on a cursed lycan. But my traitorous heart didn’t listen.

From where I stood, our gazes still locked, I dipped in a small bow.

And yes — I saw it.

A nod. Almost imperceptible, but there.

I moved toward the corner where young noblewomen usually clustered to trade gossip like rare jewels. Mother and Serenya had already left me to fend for myself, as usual.

I nearly choked on a grape when a familiar figure appeared.

“I apologize if I startled you.”

Her voice carried the faintest curl of mockery, and the smirk tugging at her lips confirmed it. Lyra Fenwicke — blue eyes cold, assessing. Her gown tried for elegance, but something about it fell short.

“It’s fine,” I murmured, waiting to see what she was really after. We’d never been friends. Rumor had it her family was clawing to keep their noble standing, and Lyra… well, she would do anything to fit in.

“I thought I’d say hello—and tell you your dress is lovely.”

The smile she offered was polite, but her fakeness was so thin it may as well have been lace.

“Thanks. I’d say the same of yours—” My gaze flicked to the loose thread at her sleeve, where the seam had torn.

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and the flicker of embarrassment on her face told me they’d landed. Maybe I was jealous. Or maybe I just struck first to keep her from striking me.

She scoffed and tried to cover the tear with one hand. “I suppose I’ll be asking for a refund.”

“You should,” I said, a touch too quickly.

Her smile sharpened. “Oh, and… Kaelen asked to see you. Down the hall.”

I glanced past her, spotting him with his pack before he slipped away toward the corridor.

“Thank you,” I said, half-expecting her to add more. But she only gave me that sly smile and turned away.

I made sure no one saw me slipping away to follow a man. Kaelen was at least three years older than me. Once, we’d been close enough for me to fall for him—maybe I still did, or maybe that was just habit, because here I was, slipping away again. Perhaps I only wanted to know what he needed to say in secret. Not like we hadn’t done secretive things before.

I waited in the dim corner of a lamp-lit corridor, expecting him to appear at any moment. He didn’t. Long enough passed for the music in the ballroom to shift into another tune, and still… nothing.

Then, from somewhere deeper in the hallway, a sharp noise shattered the stillness.

Curiosity pulled me forward.

The corridor stretched longer than I expected, until I reached its end. I should have turned back, but my feet refused to obey. I took a left turn, and the path grew unfamiliar—this palace was large enough to swallow me whole.

That was when I heard it. A howl. Low, distant, but enough to freeze me in place.

I followed the sound up a winding staircase, arriving just in time to see a lone shadow on a moonlit balcony. I might have been too late for whatever had happened, but the air still felt charged, thick with something unseen.

A loud thud came from below, as though something heavy had been cast down—but the figure didn’t move, his back still to me.

Then the hem of my gown brushed against something on the floor, knocking it over with a small clatter. The sound was enough to draw his attention.

The figure stilled. Slowly — with the kind of deliberate slowness that made the air feel heavier — he turned.

Moonlight struck him first. The sharp line of his jaw, the cruel cut of his cheekbones, the mouth that seemed made for either sin or command. His hair — black, thick, and swept carelessly back — caught silver at the ends where the light touched it.

And then there were his eyes.

Silver. Not pale gray like weathered stone, but bright, liquid silver, like molten metal poured into the shape of a gaze. They held me, stripped me bare, as if they could see every secret I had ever buried.

He was dressed in black — not the kind worn for mourning, but the kind that made the shadows cling to him. The high collar of his coat framed his throat, the fabric fitted enough to suggest the strength beneath. I could see it in the way the leather stretched over his gloves, in the easy way he stood — a predator at rest.

He was beautiful in the way winter storms are beautiful: something you don’t stare at for too long unless you want to be swallowed whole.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The voice was low, rough, and cold enough to bite.

“I—was looking for someone,” I said, cursing the tremor in my voice. “Kaelen.”

His gaze swept over me, not in the way other men looked — no hunger, no admiration — only assessment, like a blade weighing the strength of its target.

“You won’t find him here.”

“What happened?” I dared a glance toward the courtyard beyond the balcony, where shadows twitched unnaturally. “I heard—”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

I took a step back. “And if I’m concerned anyway?”

That earned me the faintest curve of his lips — not quite a smile, more like a warning.

“Then you’re in more danger than you realize, little fox.”

Before I could speak again, a sharp rustle echoed from below, and his eyes slid past me, dismissing me entirely.

I was no longer worth his attention.

Or perhaps… I was worth far too much.