CHAPTER 4:THE WEIGHT OF SECRETS
1201 Words
Aurora didn’t return home until the evening sun had begun sinking behind the rooftops of Moonlight Kingdom, painting the sky in soft orange and gold. The day had been long, school, exhaustion from avoiding Philip, and the unexpected comfort of Tyler’s company, but nothing drained her more than the quiet fear sitting beneath her ribs.
Fear that one day, someone at Moonlight Academy would look too closely and see the truth.
Her house stood at the edge of the capital, small and humble but glowing warmly with lantern light. It was nothing like the grand homes of royal-born students at school, but it felt safe. It felt like hers.
She pushed the wooden door open.
Her mother, Seraphine, was waiting.
She didn’t speak at first; she simply hurried forward, cupped Aurora’s face in her palms, and scanned her expression the way only mothers could. Aurora tried to smile.
“You look tired,” her mother murmured. “Too tired.”
Aurora swallowed. “I’m fine, Mama. Just school.”
Seraphine’s eyes softened, but something inside them flickered with worry. “Did anything unusual happen?”
Aurora hesitated. Images from last night’s near-loss of control flashed through her mind, the glowing blood on the forest leaves, the burning in her throat, the hunters passing so close she could hear their breaths. And then today: Philip’s sharp gaze, Tyler’s gentle voice, her own heart thundering without reason, she wanted to admit.
She forced another smile. “Nothing unusual. Just normal human school things.”
Her father appeared from the kitchen door, wiping his hands with a cloth. “Aurora,” he said warmly, though the lines around his eyes were tight. “Come sit, we’ve been waiting for you.”
The table was set simply: stew, bread, fruit, food that Aurora barely ate but pretended to. Her parents never pressured her; they knew her hunger wasn’t satisfied by human meals.
They all sat, but the silence felt too heavy. Seraphine and Darius exchanged glances, the kind they thought she didn’t notice.
Her mother spoke first. “Aurora, sweetheart, we’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
Aurora’s heart sank. “About what?”
Darius folded his hands. “About you, about how you’re doing. Truly doing.”
Aurora looked away, staring at the table. “I said I’m fine.”
Her mother reached across and gently took her hand, warm where Aurora was cold. “You say that every day, but last night we heard you, Aurora.”
Her breath hitched.
“You came home shaking,” Seraphine continued quietly. “We know the signs. Was it the hunger again?”
Aurora pulled in a shaky breath. It hurt, admitting weakness. She was supposed to be strong enough to control it. Supposed to be perfect, the perfect daughter, the perfect secret, the perfect human girl in a school that would destroy her if they knew the truth.
Finally, she nodded. “It’s getting worse.”
Her father’s jaw tightened with a mixture of fear and helpless frustration. “We knew this day would come. The older you get, the stronger your instincts become.”
Aurora tried to laugh softly. “I’m almost seventeen. You think I would have learned to handle it.”
Her mother squeezed her fingers. “Handling it doesn’t mean fighting alone.”
Aurora looked up then, eyes slightly stinging. “I’m trying, really trying. I want to stay safe. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
Seraphine rose from her chair, walked around the table, and wrapped Aurora in her arms. Aurora buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability she never let anyone else see.
“You could never disappoint us,” her mother whispered. “You are our miracle.”
“Our responsibility,” Darius corrected gently, but with pride. “And our greatest love.”
Aurora pulled away slightly, blinking. “But I’m a problem too.”
“No,” her father said firmly. “You are a blessing the world is not ready to understand. That is why we hide you, not because we’re ashamed, but because they are afraid.”
Aurora’s throat tightened. “Philip Nicholas’s advisors were at school today,” she murmured. “Talking about choosing a bride. Some girls are already desperate for the position.”
Seraphine’s hand froze on her shoulder.
Darius looked up sharply. “Did they speak to you? Did they mention you?”
Aurora shook her head quickly. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just overheard something. But it made me worry.”
Her mother’s voice dropped into a whisper. “Royal families do not pick brides based on love. They pick them based on bloodlines, power, purity.”
Aurora clenched her hands. “Which is exactly why they must never look at me. I’m none of those things.”
“You are more powerful than all their daughters combined,” her father said quietly. “But they can never know it.”
Seraphine returned to her seat, eyes glistening. “Aurora, you must be careful. Philip is arrogant, unpredictable, and dangerous when irritated. If he ever suspects who you are.”
“I know,” Aurora whispered. “That’s why I keep my distance.”
“But the royal palace…” Seraphine shook her head. “Once they choose candidates, it becomes impossible to refuse without raising suspicion.”
The room felt colder.
Aurora exhaled slowly. “Mama, Papa, I don’t want that life. I don’t want to be trapped in a palace as some prince’s prize. I don’t want to pretend forever. I just want…”
Tyler’s smile flashed in her mind unexpectedly, blue eyes warm and gentle as he steadied her hand earlier that day.
She bit her lip.
Her father shifted. “You want freedom.”
Aurora nodded. “Yes, more than anything.”
Her mother reached for her again. “We won’t let anyone force you into a marriage you don’t want. As long as we’re alive, you will choose your own path.”
Aurora swallowed hard. Their love had always been her anchor and her greatest fear. What would happen to them if the truth slipped? If the royal family discovered their secret? If Philip decided he wanted her?
Her father rose from his chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Aurora, you are strong, but you don’t need to carry this alone. Look at me.”
She looked up.
“You are our daughter, not the world’s, not the crown’s. ours.” His voice trembled. “And we will protect you until our last breath.”
Aurora blinked back tears. “I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me.”
Her mother cupped her cheek tenderly. “Then stay cautious, stay hidden, stay you. That is all we ask.”
For a moment, the house was silent except for their heartbeats; two warm, human rhythms and one colder, inhuman one, all beating in the same fragile space.
Aurora leaned into their embrace, letting herself be a daughter instead of a secret.
But deep down, a whisper nagged at her:
How long can love protect her before danger catches up?
- Writer
