Chapter 8: What the Moon Hid
1233 Words
Destiny woke to voices.
Low.
Urgent.
Male.
Annoyingly attractive and deeply inconvenient.
“She needs rest.”
“That was not a request.”
“That was not an answer.”
She opened one eye.
Canvas ceiling.
Travel cot.
Warm blankets.
The faint smell of herbs and cedar.
Not dead, then.
Disappointing for some people, probably.
“She’s awake,” Old Nora announced somewhere near her feet.
Destiny opened both eyes.
She was inside a large royal travel tent lit by morning sun filtering through cream canvas. A table had been turned into a medical station. Bandages, herbs, water bowls.
Kael stood near the entrance speaking with a gray-haired healer who looked offended by everything.
Both men turned toward her.
The healer sighed dramatically.
“Excellent. Consciousness. My least favorite complication.”
Nora beamed.
“I like him too.”
“You like everyone who insults politely,” Destiny muttered.
The healer blinked.
“She has humor. Tragic prognosis.”
Kael’s gaze moved over her face, checking for weakness so quickly most people would miss it.
She was learning not to miss things.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Like I exploded badly.”
“Accurate,” said the healer.
Kael ignored him.
“Dizzy?”
“Yes.”
“Pain?”
“Yes.”
“Hunger?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“That last one isn’t pain.”
“It is if ignored.”
He left before she could answer.
The healer clicked his tongue.
“He broods efficiently.”
Nora snorted.
“Can she sit up?”
“She can do many things badly. Let us begin.”
---
An hour later, Destiny sat wrapped in a blanket eating warm porridge while everyone treated her like unstable weather.
Kael had returned with food.
He personally carried the tray.
Every guard who saw it looked as though history had shifted.
Destiny noticed.
So did he.
He seemed to enjoy it.
“No one told me kings served breakfast,” she said.
“No one told me omegas detonated moonlight.”
She winced.
“Can we not call it that?”
“What would you prefer?”
“A misunderstanding.”
“It broke trees.”
“A dramatic misunderstanding.”
One corner of his mouth moved.
There it was again.
That almost-smile was becoming dangerous to her concentration.
The healer—whose name was apparently Corvin—finished examining her wrists.
“No fever. No tearing. No sign of possession.”
Destiny nearly choked.
“Possession?”
Corvin shrugged.
“With royal bloodlines, curses, moon anomalies, and inconvenient prophecies, one must keep options open.”
“I hate this conversation.”
“So do I,” he said pleasantly.
Kael stepped closer.
“What did you feel before it happened?”
Destiny hesitated.
Everyone in the tent stilled.
“The rogue rushed me,” she said slowly. “I was scared.”
Reasonable enough.
“And?”
She looked down at her hands.
“I was angry.”
Kael’s voice softened.
“At him?”
“No.”
She met his eyes.
“At always being helpless.”
Silence.
Nora wiped at one eye and pretended dust existed indoors.
Corvin looked fascinated.
Kael looked something worse.
Moved.
He masked it instantly.
“Power often answers truth,” Corvin said. “Especially buried power.”
Destiny stiffened.
“Buried?”
The healer exchanged a glance with Kael.
She noticed that too.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Kael answered first.
“I don’t know enough yet.”
“That sounds suspiciously convenient.”
“It is frustratingly true.”
Corvin folded his arms.
“Your energy signature resembles old lunar houses.”
Destiny blinked.
“My what?”
“Your power. It feels ancient.”
“I’m a servant.”
“Titles are costumes,” Corvin said. “Blood is less imaginative.”
The room tilted slightly.
Servant.
Omega.
Invisible.
Ancient power.
Nothing fit together.
She hated puzzles where she was the missing piece.
---
By midday the caravan moved again.
Destiny insisted on walking some stretches to prove she was not fragile.
This resulted in nearly falling twice, accepting Kael’s arm once, and resenting how steady it felt.
The road curved through pine forests and high ridges. Royal guards rode ahead and behind, disciplined shadows in black armor.
Nora rode in a supply cart loudly reorganizing everyone’s food.
Destiny walked beside Kael in tense companionship.
“You said old lunar houses,” she said.
“I said Corvin said it.”
“You failed to deny it.”
He sighed.
“Centuries ago, powerful Luna bloodlines helped stabilize territories. Some healed land. Some strengthened bonds. Some…” He glanced at her. “Did stranger things.”
“And they vanished?”
“Mostly murdered. Married out. Hunted. Forgotten.”
A chill touched her spine.
“Why hunted?”
“Power attracts men who mistake hunger for entitlement.”
She looked at him sharply.
“You say that like you dislike men.”
“I dislike many men.”
“Even kings?”
“Especially kings.”
She laughed before she could stop herself.
He looked absurdly satisfied.
---
That afternoon they stopped at a mountain overlook where the land opened wide beneath them.
Valleys.
Forests.
Rivers threading silver through stone.
Destiny had never seen so much world at once.
She stepped closer to the cliff edge.
“It’s huge.”
“It’s mine,” Kael said.
She gave him a look.
“That was deeply unattractive.”
“It’s also taxed, defended, negotiated, and occasionally on fire.”
“Better.”
Wind lifted her hair.
For the first time since leaving Crescent Moon, she felt small in a good way.
Not diminished.
Expanded.
Behind them, hooves thundered fast.
A scout rode hard into camp, dismounted, and dropped to one knee.
“My King.”
Kael’s posture changed instantly.
Warrior. Ruler. Blade.
“Report.”
“Crescent Moon riders left at dawn.”
Destiny’s stomach tightened.
“How many?” Kael asked.
“Twelve. Led by Beta Adrian Blackthorn.”
Kael’s jaw set.
“Distance?”
“Half a day behind and closing.”
Nora appeared from nowhere carrying bread.
“I knew that boy looked like trouble in expensive boots.”
Destiny’s pulse pounded.
Why would Adrian follow?
Regret?
Pride?
Possession?
None were comforting.
Kael turned to the captain of his guard.
“Double perimeter. We camp nowhere predictable.”
Then he looked at Destiny.
“Inside the carriage.”
“I’m not furniture.”
“No,” he said. “You’re the reason he’s coming.”
The words landed hard.
Because they felt true.
She swallowed.
“What if I want to speak to him?”
Something cold entered Kael’s expression.
“Then I will allow it.”
“Allow?”
He stepped closer, voice low enough for only her.
“Do not confuse restraint with lack of opinion.”
Her breath caught.
Anger should have come first.
Instead something warmer and more dangerous flickered through her.
She hated that.
He stepped back.
“We move now.”
As the caravan surged into motion, Destiny climbed into the carriage with shaking hands.
Behind them, somewhere on the road, the man who rejected her was chasing the woman he threw away.
And ahead of them waited a kingdom full of secrets.
She wasn’t sure which was worse.
- Writer
