Chapter 45: The Mark of the Moon
679 Words
Chapter 45: The Mark of the Moon
The battlefield slowly returned to silence.
Smoke drifted through the cold night air, and the wounded groaned softly as healers rushed across the field.
But no one spoke loudly.
No one celebrated the victory.
Because every pair of eyes kept drifting back to Aria.
She knelt beside Kael, her hand still resting on his dark fur as the last traces of silver light faded from her fingers.
His breathing had steadied.
The deep wounds across his side were already closing.
That alone was enough to shock the warriors.
Lycan healing was strong… but not that strong.
Not even for a king.
“Your Majesty!” Commander Roran rushed forward, dropping to one knee beside Kael. “Are you alright?”
Kael slowly pushed himself up.
His massive wolf form shimmered before shifting back into his human body.
Gasps echoed around them.
The king was still covered in blood, but the fatal wounds that should have killed him were gone.
And his golden eyes were locked on Aria.
“You healed me,” he said quietly.
Aria looked down at her hands.
“I… I didn’t mean to.”
She was trembling now that the battle was over.
Moments ago, power had been surging through her like wildfire.
But now it was gone.
Like it had never existed.
“I don’t know what happened,” she whispered.
Kael stood slowly.
Despite his injuries, his presence still commanded the entire battlefield.
The warriors immediately bowed their heads.
But Kael didn’t look at them.
He only looked at her.
Something inside his chest stirred.
Something ancient.
Something powerful.
The mate bond pulsed.
And for the first time since Aria arrived in his kingdom…
He felt something else.
Respect.
Curiosity.
And a dangerous fascination.
Before he could speak again, an elderly voice suddenly called out.
“Your Majesty…”
The warriors stepped aside as Elder Myra, the oldest seer of the Lycan kingdom, approached slowly.
Her pale eyes studied Aria carefully.
Then they widened.
“My… my goddess…”
Everyone turned toward her in confusion.
Kael frowned.
“What is it, Elder?”
But the old woman wasn’t looking at him.
She was staring at Aria’s wrist.
“Child,” she whispered, trembling. “Show me your hand.”
Aria hesitated.
But something about the old woman’s voice felt urgent.
Slowly, she lifted her hand.
The moment the moonlight touched her skin—
A glowing symbol appeared on her wrist.
Silver.
Shimmering.
The shape of a crescent moon surrounded by ancient runes.
Gasps erupted around them.
“That mark…”
“I’ve seen it in the old temple!”
“It’s impossible!”
Kael’s expression darkened.
“What does it mean?” he demanded.
Elder Myra slowly dropped to her knees.
Then she bowed her head before Aria.
“The mark of the Moon’s Chosen.”
Silence fell like a heavy weight.
Kael’s voice turned dangerously low.
“Explain.”
The old woman lifted her trembling gaze.
“Thousands of years ago, the Moon Goddess made a prophecy.”
“When darkness rises and the Devourer returns…”
“She will send a chosen soul to protect the Lycan world.”
Her eyes filled with awe as she looked at Aria.
“The woman marked by the moon… will either save our kingdom…”
Her voice shook.
“…or destroy it.”
A cold wind swept across the battlefield.
Aria felt her stomach twist.
“Destroy it?” she whispered.
Kael stepped forward.
His tall figure loomed before her, his golden eyes burning intensely.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then his voice came out low and steady.
“If the prophecy is true…”
He gently grabbed her wrist, staring at the glowing mark.
“Then fate has done something very dangerous.”
Aria swallowed nervously.
“What do you mean?”
Kael’s gaze lifted to meet hers.
A faint smirk appeared on the ruthless king’s lips.
“Because the Moon’s Chosen…”
His grip tightened slightly.
“…is also my mate.”
- Writer
