Chapter 13
1644 Words
Darkness had become Elara’s closest companion.
She no longer knew how many days had passed since Healer Braham had carried her broken body into the forgotten basement beneath the old palace. Time had lost its meaning there. The tiny window high above the stone wall admitted only a sliver of daylight, just enough to remind her that the world outside still existed.
To the people of Whitecliff…
Lady Elara Hale died a hero.
Rowan told the people that Elara had been gravely wounded while trying to protect the kingdom from the chaos of the Blood Moon. He claimed that, after exhausting every ounce of her strength, she had succumbed to her injuries and passed away peacefully in her sleep before dawn. The people mourned her as a selfless Luna who had given her life to save countless others.
Only two people knew the truth.
Healer Braham…
And Elara herself.
The wound across her abdomen had begun to close beneath Braham’s careful treatment, but every breath still carried pain. Some mornings she could barely rise from the narrow cot tucked into the corner of the cellar. Other days she managed a few slow steps before dizziness forced her back down again.
Braham never left her for long.
He brought steaming bowls of broth, bitter herbal medicine, and encouraging smiles that reminded her of gentler days.
“Your body is healing,” he would tell her.
“But your heart…”
He always stopped there.
Because they both knew some wounds never truly healed.
That afternoon, Elara sat alone on the edge of the bed, staring at the small silver wedding band resting in her palm.
Rowan had placed it on her finger beneath the blessing of the Moon Goddess.
She remembered the warmth in his eyes.
The tenderness in his smile.
The way he had whispered, “As long as I live, no harm will ever come to you.”
A broken laugh escaped her lips.
“What a beautiful lie…”
Tears blurred her vision.
Another memory surfaced.
Celeste laughing with her beneath the blooming moon lilies.
The afternoons they had shared tea together.
The nights they had spoken of children, families, and the future.
“You’ll always be the sister I never had,” Elara had once told her.
Celeste had smiled.
“And you’ll always have me.”
The memory shattered inside her like glass.
Her fingers tightened around the ring until it dug painfully into her skin.
“I loved you both…”
Her voice trembled.
“I would have given my life for you.”
She already had.
Instinctively, she touched her belly
Tears gathered in her eyes as she closed them.
“I couldn’t save King Marcus…” she whispered softly.
“But I swear to you…”
“No matter what it costs…”
“I will protect you.”
For the first time since awakening in the basement, she realized she was no longer living only for herself.
She had a child to protect.
A future to fight for.
A cold emptiness settled inside her chest.
But emptiness never remains forever.
Slowly…
It was replaced by something far more dangerous.
Not grief.
Not sorrow.
Something darker.
She thought of Marcus.
A good king painted as a monster.
She thought of the men who had followed Rowan into rebellion.
They had not been honorable men. Many had built their wealth through corruption, exploitation, and greed before Marcus stripped them of their power.
They had wanted Marcus removed so they could return to their old ways.
Even so, Rowan had promised them exile, not death.
Yet when they questioned his betrayal, he had turned on them without hesitation.
To Rowan, loyalty lasted only until it became inconvenient.
She thought of every lie she had believed.
Every kindness she had mistaken for love.
Her tears stopped.
Her eyes hardened.
“If the Moon Goddess spared my life…”
She looked toward the ceiling as though Rowan himself stood above it.
“…then perhaps she has not finished with me.”
A quiet knock interrupted her thoughts.
Before she could answer, the hidden door burst open.
“Healer Braham?”
The old man stumbled inside, breathing hard. His face had lost all color.
“My child…”
He crossed the room quickly and seized both of her shoulders.
“We have no time.”
Elara’s heart skipped.
“What happened?”
“They know.”
A chill ran through her.
“Who?”
“Rowan.”
The name alone made her blood turn cold.
Braham hurried to a dusty shelf, pulled out a tightly rolled parchment, and thrust it into her hands.
“It is a map.”
His fingers trembled.
“I marked a forgotten escape tunnel beneath the western foundations. It leads beyond the castle walls.”
Elara stared at him in confusion.
“I don’t understand.”
Braham closed his eyes for a moment before speaking.
“Yesterday Rowan asked me what became of your body.”
Her breath caught.
“I told him I buried you.”
“He believed me… at first.”
The old healer swallowed heavily.
“But over the past several days he noticed me carrying herbs and medicine into the basement.”
His voice grew quieter.
“He began asking questions.”
Elara felt her stomach twist.
“I overheard him this morning.”
Braham’s expression filled with sorrow.
“He ordered his guards to search this place.”
His lips trembled as he repeated Rowan’s exact words.
“Search every corner of the basement.”
“If you find her…”
“Kill her.”
He paused.
“And kill the old man too.”
Silence filled the room.
For a moment neither of them moved.
Then Braham gently cupped Elara’s face.
“Listen to me.”
His eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“You must leave now.”
“What about you?”
He smiled sadly.
“I have lived a long life.”
“You still have yours ahead of you.”
She shook her head.
“I can’t leave you.”
“You can.”
His voice became firm.
“You must.”
He rested one weathered hand over hers.
“Revenge is easy to seek, my child.”
“Justice is much harder to carry.”
“Whatever path lies before you…”
“…do not become the monster that created it.”
A loud crash echoed somewhere above them.
Voices.
Boots.
The guards had arrived.
Braham pushed the map into her hands.
“Go!”
Fighting back tears, Elara embraced him tightly.
“Thank you…”
He kissed the top of her head like a father blessing his daughter.
“Run.”
Without another word, she disappeared into the narrow passage hidden behind the shelves.
Moments later
The basement door exploded open.
Armed guards flooded the room.
Their captain drew his sword.
“Healer Braham.”
“His Majesty wishes to know what you’re hiding.”
The old healer merely looked up from the herbs spread across his table.
“Hiding?”
The captain searched every corner.
The bed.
The cupboards.
The storage rooms.
Nothing.
After nearly an hour, the frustrated soldiers returned.
“There is no one here.”
The captain narrowed his eyes.
“Then why have you been coming here every day?”
Braham calmly lifted a bundle of dried herbs.
“Because medicine does not brew itself.”
The captain grunted in annoyance before signaling his men to leave.
Long after they were gone…
Braham remained standing silently.
Praying the Moon Goddess had guided Elara safely beyond their reach.
Wrapped beneath a heavy cloak, Elara slipped through the forgotten passages beneath Whitecliff until she emerged beyond the outer walls.
The winter wind struck her like a blade.
She pulled the cloak tighter around herself and unfolded the map.
Her destination was clear.
The capital of the Nocteron Kingdom.
For now, all she wanted was the love and warmth of her parents.
But reaching the capital would not be easy.
She possessed no money.
No horse.
No carriage.
She could not risk revealing her face.
So she walked.
Through frozen forests.
Across abandoned roads.
Past villages where she dared not stop.
Every step sent fresh pain through the healing wound across her abdomen.
Hunger hollowed her stomach.
Cold numbed her fingers.
Still…
She kept walking.
Days seemed to blur into one endless journey.
At last, her strength gave out.
She collapsed within a snow-covered valley, too weak even to lift her head.
Darkness slowly crept into her vision.
Then…
Voices.
“…My Lord…”
“They’re over here.”
Another voice answered.
“My Lord… it’s Lady Elara.”
Elara struggled to open her eyes.
Her body refused.
Silence followed.
Then a calm, commanding voice cut through the cold air.
“Is she alive?”
“I… I cannot say for certain, Your Majesty.”
A long pause.
Then the voice spoke again.
“Bring her with us.”
Strong hands carefully lifted her from the frozen ground.
She felt herself wrapped in thick blankets before being laid gently inside a warm carriage.
Relief washed over her aching body.
The last of her strength slipped away.
Someone drew back the hood covering her face.
Cool fingers brushed aside the bloodstained cloth around her abdomen.
For a long moment…
No one spoke.
Then the same calm voice murmured quietly,
“A peaceful death…”
He studied the half-healed wound beneath the torn fabric.
“That is the tale they wished the kingdom to believe.”
His silver eyes narrowed.
He looked toward the captain waiting outside.
“Someone went to great lengths to make sure Lady Elara never spoke again.”
Only then did Elara recognize the voice.
Lycan King Dorian Kade.
Before she could force her eyes open…
Darkness claimed her once more.
- Writer
