Luna No More

Chapter 13

The Hunter's Mark



The palace had become a battlefield.

Alarms echoed through the corridors.

Guards sprinted in every direction.

The scent of blood lingered in the air.

Isabella's pulse hammered as she followed Lucian through the chaos.

No.

Not followed.

Kept up.

Barely.

The Lycan King moved like a shadow.

Fast.

Silent.

Deadly.

Warriors stepped aside the moment they saw him approaching.

Not because he ordered them to.

Because instinct demanded it.

Predators recognized predators.

And Lucian Nightshade stood at the very top of the food chain.

A wounded guard staggered toward them.

Blood soaked his uniform.

"My King..."

Lucian caught him before he collapsed.

"Report."

The guard struggled to breathe.

"They came from the western wing."

His voice shook.

"There were only three."

Isabella frowned.

Three?

Only three attackers had managed to create this much chaos?

The guard continued.

"They weren't ordinary wolves."

Fear flashed across his face.

"They moved like ghosts."

Lucian's expression darkened.

"Hunters."

The guard nodded.

"They knew exactly where to strike."

Isabella exchanged a glance with Lucian.

The same realization hit both of them.

The enemy had inside information.

Again.

Another traitor.

Another betrayal.

The thought made her stomach twist.

Lucian gently lowered the wounded guard onto a nearby bench.

"Get him to the healers."

Two warriors immediately obeyed.

Then the king turned.

His golden eyes glowed faintly.

"The throne wing."

General Lyra appeared beside them.

As if summoned.

"They were seen heading there."

Lucian cursed.

The first time had shocked Isabella.

The second time was becoming familiar.

"What's in the throne wing?"

The answer came from Lyra.

"The royal records."

Isabella froze.

The records.

The history.

The bloodlines.

Everything connected to the royal family.

Everything connected to her.

"They're looking for something."

Lucian nodded.

"Or trying to destroy it."

Neither possibility was good.

Minutes later, they reached the throne wing.

The damage was immediate.

Doors ripped from hinges.

Broken stone.

Blood stains.

Bodies.

Thankfully alive.

But injured.

Very injured.

Several guards lay against the walls receiving treatment.

The atmosphere felt wrong.

Too quiet.

The kind of silence that usually preceded disaster.

Lucian pushed open the massive doors to the archive chamber.

And immediately stopped.

Every muscle in his body became rigid.

Dangerous.

The room had been destroyed.

Ancient shelves lay shattered.

Thousands of scrolls covered the floor.

Books centuries old had been ripped apart.

The sight made Seraphina's absence feel even more alarming.

Whoever had taken her knew exactly what they were doing.

A groan echoed from somewhere deeper inside.

Isabella turned.

An elderly archivist crawled from behind a collapsed shelf.

His face was covered in blood.

"Help..."

She rushed forward.

The old man grabbed her arm.

His trembling fingers tightened.

"They took her."

"We know."

The archivist shook his head frantically.

"No."

Fear widened his eyes.

"They asked about the prophecy."

The room went silent.

Even Lucian looked alarmed.

"The prophecy?"

The old man nodded.

"They knew details."

His breathing became ragged.

"They knew things only the inner council should know."

The realization struck like lightning.

The traitor wasn't a servant.

Wasn't a guard.

Wasn't a low-ranking official.

The traitor was close.

Very close.

Someone trusted.

Someone powerful.

Someone sitting near the throne.

A chill ran down Isabella's spine.

The old archivist pointed toward the far end of the room.

"They left this."

Then he passed out.

The object rested on the floor.

A black dagger.

Elegant.

Beautiful.

Terrifying.

Its blade shimmered with crimson markings.

Ancient symbols crawled along the metal.

Almost alive.

General Lyra immediately swore.

Several nearby guards looked visibly disturbed.

"What is it?" Isabella asked.

Nobody answered immediately.

Which was never a good sign.

Finally Lucian picked up the dagger.

Carefully.

Very carefully.

"The Hunter's Mark."

His voice was cold.

Deadly cold.

"What does that mean?"

Lucian studied the weapon.

"It means this isn't an abduction."

A pause.

"It's a declaration of war."

The words settled heavily over the room.

War.

Not conflict.

Not politics.

War.

Isabella swallowed.

The situation had escalated faster than she imagined.

The hunter who left this dagger wanted them to know exactly who was responsible.

Wanted them angry.

Wanted them afraid.

Wanted them to react.

A trap.

Lucian knew it too.

His eyes narrowed.

"They want us to chase them."

General Lyra crossed her arms.

"And if we don't?"

Lucian's answer was immediate.

"They'll kill Seraphina."

Silence followed.

Nobody questioned him.

Nobody argued.

Because everyone believed him.

Including Isabella.

An emergency council convened less than an hour later.

This time, the atmosphere was entirely different.

No one questioned Isabella's presence.

No one challenged her claim.

Fear had erased those distractions.

The council chamber felt grim.

Heavy.

The empty seat where Seraphina normally sat made everything worse.

Lucian stood at the head of the table.

"The hunters crossed our borders three nights ago."

Shock spread around the room.

Three days?

They had been inside the kingdom for three days?

General Lyra nodded.

"They were hidden."

A noble slammed his hand against the table.

"Impossible."

Lucian's gaze shifted toward him.

The noble immediately regretted speaking.

The king's stare could silence armies.

"The Blood Hunters specialize in impossible."

Nobody spoke again.

A map appeared across the center table.

Several locations glowed red.

Attack sites.

Possible escape routes.

Places where sightings had occurred.

Isabella studied them carefully.

Something felt familiar.

A pattern.

A connection.

Then she saw it.

Her eyes widened.

"Wait."

Every head turned toward her.

She pointed at the map.

"The attacks form a circle."

Confusion spread across several faces.

Then General Lyra frowned.

Slowly.

Realization dawned.

"The mountain."

Lucian looked down.

His expression darkened.

The attack locations surrounded the mountain.

Not the palace.

Not the city.

The mountain itself.

The ancient sanctuary.

The vault.

The heart of the kingdom.

"They're not targeting me."

The realization escaped before Isabella could stop it.

Lucian's gaze snapped toward her.

She continued.

"They're targeting what's beneath the kingdom."

Silence.

The kind that arrives when someone uncovers a terrible truth.

The council members exchanged uneasy looks.

One elderly lord went pale.

Another whispered a curse.

Lucian slowly straightened.

For the first time all evening, genuine concern appeared in his eyes.

Because he knew she was right.

Whatever the hunters wanted...

It wasn't simply Isabella.

It was something older.

Something hidden.

Something buried beneath centuries of secrets.

The meeting ended after midnight.

Plans were made.

Scouts were deployed.

Search teams organized.

Yet Isabella couldn't stop thinking.

The pattern bothered her.

The prophecy bothered her.

And most of all...

Lucian's reaction bothered her.

He knew something.

Something important.

Something he wasn't telling anyone.

Not even her.

The realization followed her all the way to her chambers.

She had just reached the door when a familiar voice stopped her.

"You should be sleeping."

Isabella turned.

Lucian stood in the corridor.

Again.

She was beginning to suspect the man never slept.

"You should be too."

His lips twitched.

Almost a smile.

Almost.

Not quite.

They stood in silence for a moment.

The palace had finally quieted.

Most of the chaos had faded.

For now.

Neither believed it would last.

Eventually Isabella spoke.

"What aren't you telling me?"

The question landed directly.

No hesitation.

No politeness.

Lucian's expression became unreadable.

Dangerous.

Guarded.

Exactly the reaction she expected.

"There are many things."

"About the hunters."

Silence.

She stepped closer.

"About the prophecy."

Another step.

"And about whatever scared you during that meeting."

The distance between them disappeared.

Close enough to see the faint silver flecks hidden in his golden eyes.

Close enough to hear his heartbeat.

Strong.

Steady.

Ancient.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then Lucian exhaled.

Slowly.

"You won't like the answer."

"Try me."

His gaze locked onto hers.

"The prophecy doesn't end with a queen returning."

The corridor suddenly felt colder.

"What does it end with?"

Lucian looked away.

Toward the moonlit windows.

Toward the darkness beyond.

When he finally answered, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"It ends with a king dying."

Isabella froze.

The words echoed in her mind.

A king dying.

Not a king.

The king.

Lucian.

Her stomach dropped.

"No."

The response escaped immediately.

Instinctively.

Without thought.

Lucian's expression softened.

Just slightly.

A dangerous tenderness flickered there.

Gone almost instantly.

But she saw it.

"You see the problem."

"No."

Her voice shook.

"That's not happening."

For a second, surprise crossed his face.

As though nobody had ever reacted that way before.

As though nobody had ever cared enough to object.

Then something strange happened.

Something neither of them expected.

The silver crown resting in Isabella's chambers suddenly began glowing.

Far away.

Hidden.

Awakening.

And deep beneath the mountain, something ancient answered.

A roar echoed through the earth.

Not human.

Not wolf.

Something older.

Something that had slept for seven hundred years.

Something that had just awakened.

The mountain trembled.

The palace shook.

And every person in the kingdom felt it.

Including the Blood Hunters.

Including the Crimson Court.

Including the enemy watching from the shadows.

The game had changed.

And for the first time...

The true war was about to begin.