THE MOON HIDES MY HEART

Chapter 10: Ashes

The inferno raged for three hours.

From the snow-covered ground, I watched, enveloped in Nikolai's coat, as flames consumed the East Wing. Students clustered in the courtyard, their faces starkly illuminated by the flickering light. Teachers barked commands, while wolves, shifting into their furred forms, raced towards the lake. They returned with jaws full of snow and ice, desperately attempting to quell the blaze.

It was a futile effort.

By the time dawn painted the sky in hues of gray, the East Wing was no more. Only blackened stone, crumbling walls, and smoke, like spectral apparitions, spiraled towards the heavens remained.

My room was gone.

Everything I possessed, vanished.

My mother's letter, lost.

Tears streamed down my face, unnoticed until Lukas placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Elif."

"I'm fine," I choked out.

"You're not," he countered, turning me to face him. His green eyes, usually warm, were clouded with concern, his jaw set. "You're trembling. Your lips are tinged with blue. And you're standing in the snow, wearing a coat that dwarfs you."

"It's Nikolai's."

"I know," he said, his hand falling away. "He's been searching for you. He's been scanning the crowd for the past hour."

"Let him search."

"Elif—"

"I said let him search," my voice fractured. "My mother's letter was in that room, Lukas. The last tangible piece of her. And now it's nothing but ash."

Lukas offered no words in return. He simply drew me into his embrace, holding me tight.

I didn't reciprocate the hug.

But I didn't pull away either.

The Headmaster declared the fire an act of arson.

"The East Wing was deliberately set ablaze," she announced, her voice resonating from the steps of the main hall. Her dark eyes swept over the assembled students. "An investigation has been launched. The perpetrator will be apprehended, and justice will be served with a severity this institution has never before witnessed."

A ripple of whispers spread through the student body, as volatile as the flames they discussed.

Who would commit such an act?

The human's room was the first to ignite.

Perhaps she set it herself, seeking attention.

A primal scream built within me. I yearned to erupt, to tell them all that this was not what I wanted, to return to Istanbul, to my father, to a life where my greatest concerns were academic pressures and the mundane choice of dinner.

But that life was irrevocably gone.

Much like my mother's letter.

Much like my room.

Much like everything I had clung to.

Nikolai found me an hour later.

I sat on a bench near the frozen lake, my gaze fixed on the ice-covered water. His coat, still a comforting weight, remained wrapped around me, carrying his scent – pine, snow, and an untamed wildness.

"You should eat something," he suggested, settling beside me.

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to sustain your strength. The fire within you—"

"The fire within me is the least of my current concerns," I interrupted, my voice devoid of emotion.

He was silent for a moment, then removed his own scarf, draping it around my neck. It still held the faint warmth of his skin.

"I'm sorry about your letter," he offered quietly.

"How did you know about the letter?"

"I saw it," he replied, his eyes on the lake. "The first night in your room. It was on your nightstand. I didn't read it, but I recognized your mother's handwriting. The way you cherished it, I knew its significance."

"It was the only thing I had left of her."

"Now you have something else."

"What?"

He lightly touched my chest, directly over my heart.

"Her blood. Her power. Her fire," he stated, his hand dropping. "She is not gone, Elif. She resides in every breath you take, every decision you make, every wolf you bind."

Anger flared, a desire to push him away, to insist he couldn't possibly understand.

But he did.

He, too, had known the profound grief of losing a mother.

Lukas appeared at the lake's edge, a blanket and a bag of provisions in his hands.

"The Headmaster has secured a new room for you," he announced, approaching us. "It's in the West Wing, third floor. Larger than your previous one."

"Wonderful," I replied dryly. "More space to burn."

A flicker of pain crossed Lukas's face. "Finn is guarding the door. No one enters or exits without my explicit permission."

"You can't shield me from everything."

"I can try."

Nikolai rose to his feet. "Is the room secure?"

"Secure enough."

"Then I will be staying there tonight."

Lukas's jaw tightened. "No, you won't."

"She was nearly killed, Brandauer. I will not leave her unattended."

"She won't be alone. I will be there."

"You?" Nikolai's laugh was chilling. "You can barely maintain control of your wolf around her. How can I be assured you won't—"

"Enough," I commanded, standing. The coat slipped from my shoulders. I snatched it up and thrust it at Nikolai. "Both of you. Cease this squabbling over me as if I were a mere prize."

"She initiated it."

"I care not who began it. I am exhausted, I am cold, and my mother's letter is ash. All you two seem capable of is vying for the role of bodyguard."

I walked away.

Neither of them followed.

The new room was… pleasant.

Almost too pleasant. Polished wooden floors, a working fireplace, a bed adorned with crisp white linens. The window offered a vista of the mountains, not the encroaching forest. It lacked the acrid scent of smoke. It did not smell of me.

It smelled of strangers.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my gaze fixed on the wall.

The necklace rested against my throat, cold, heavy, and seemingly useless.

Someone wanted me dead.

The thought circled relentlessly in my mind, a predator stalking its prey. Someone had orchestrated the fire. Someone had specifically targeted my room. Someone had attempted to immolate me.

But who?

Freya? Her animosity was palpable, but was she capable of murder?

One of the alphas? Nikolai had saved me. Lukas had been in the courtyard. Tomas remained in the infirmary.

Someone else. Someone I had overlooked. Someone lurking in the shadows.

Someone who knew about my mother's letter.

A soft knock echoed at the door.

"It's Kael."

I opened it.

Kael stood in the hallway, his dark eyes solemn. In his hands, he held a small glass jar filled with a fine gray powder.

"What is that?"

"The remnants of your mother's letter," he explained, stepping past me into the room. "I found it amidst the debris. The fire did not consume everything."

"You found ash."

"I found information," he corrected, placing the jar on the desk and retrieving a delicate brush. "May I?"

"I don't understand."

"Observe."

He carefully opened the jar and poured a small amount of the ash onto the desk. With the brush, he gently spread it into a thin, even layer.

And then I saw it.

Words.

Not the entire letter, but fragments. Words pressed into the paper with such force that even the fire could not eradicate them.

Kael leaned closer.

"...trust no one..."

"...the wolves will lie..."

"...your father doesn't know..."

And then, at the center of the ash, a single word, stark and undeniable.

"İhanet."

Turkish.

Betrayal.

A chill seeped into my bones.

"Betrayal," Kael confirmed, looking up at me. "Your mother inscribed that word with such pressure, the paper nearly tore."

"She knew," I whispered. "She knew someone would come for me."

"Not just anyone," Kael continued, brushing away more ash. "Look."

Another word emerged beneath the first.

"İçeriden."

From within.

"Someone within the academy," Kael stated. "Someone your mother knew. Someone she trusted."

"The Headmaster?"

"Perhaps. Or a teacher. Or another student." He settled back. "Your mother was here, Elif. At Nordlicht. Before she vanished. She knew these halls. These people. These wolves."

"And she was betrayed."

"Yes."

My gaze remained fixed on the ash.

Betrayal. From within.

Someone within this academy had known my mother. Someone had wronged her. And now, someone had attempted to end my life.

"Who?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "Who betrayed her?"

Kael shook his head. "The ash cannot reveal that. But the living might."

"How do I find out?"

"You observe. You listen. You trust no one." He met my gaze directly. "Not even me."

He rose and moved towards the door.

"Kael."

He paused.

"Thank you. For finding this."

He offered a curt nod, then disappeared from view.

I remained in my new room for hours, enveloped in solitude.

The hearth fire crackled merrily. The wind howled outside the window. The necklace pulsed against my throat, a cold, heavy presence.

Betrayal.

Someone within this academy had attempted to kill me.

Someone aware of the Balancer. Someone privy to my mother's secrets. Someone with access to the East Wing.

Someone who was still here.

Still watching.

Still waiting.

I stood and approached the window. The mountains loomed, dark silhouettes against the night sky. Above them, the Northern Lights danced in ethereal streaks of green, purple, and silver.

And then I saw it.

A shape.

On the ledge just outside my window.

A wolf.

It was colossal. Larger than Fenrir, larger than any wolf I had encountered at the academy. Its fur was the deepest black, like polished obsidian. Its eyes blazed with a terrifying, incandescent red—burning, glowing, ravenous.

It stared at me through the glass, an unnerving intensity in its gaze.

I was frozen, unable to move, to breathe, to utter a sound.

The wolf tilted its head, its lips peeling back to reveal a formidable array of teeth.

And then, it smiled.

Not the primal grin of a wolf, but a distinctly human expression—cold, knowing, and utterly cruel.

I stumbled backward, my hand instinctively reaching for the necklace. The stone grew searingly hot against my palm.

When I looked up, the wolf was gone.

But the frost on the windowpane bore the distinct imprint of disturbed ice.

Claw marks.

Five of them.

Arranged in a pattern I did not recognize.

Someone had been watching me.

Someone had been there, mere inches away, the entire time.