The Luna 's secret

Chapter 3: The Silver Feast

You look like you’d rather face a war than a feast.” Elior’s voice cut through the laughter and music echoing from the grand hall. I turned to find him leaning against the pillar behind me, a crooked smile tugging at his lips, his silver eyes flickering in the torchlight. “I don’t like attention,” I said, forcing a calm smile as I smoothed my gown — silver silk that shimmered with every movement, like moonlight poured over fabric. “Besides, tonight is Kael’s celebration, not mine.” Elior chuckled, pushing off the pillar. “You’re the Luna. Everything is yours now — even the things you’d rather avoid.” His words made my stomach twist. If only he knew how much I was already avoiding. “Come,” he said, extending his arm with mock chivalry. “The Alpha grows restless when his Luna hides from her own feast.” I took his arm, trying to steady my heartbeat. Every sense in me was heightened, not from excitement, but fear. My magic hadn’t calmed since last night — it whispered beneath my skin like a secret too loud to silence. The feast hall was alive when we entered. Wolves of every rank filled the long tables, laughter booming, cups clinking. The air was thick with roasted meat, spiced wine, and the warmth of pack unity. Silver banners hung from the high beams, each embroidered with the Draven crest — the moon and fang. At the center sat Kael. My Alpha. My mate. He rose the moment he saw me, his expression unreadable — equal parts pride and something darker since the night in the forest. The moment our eyes met, the bond pulsed. My heart skipped. His wolf brushed against mine gently, testing, as though searching for the truth I was hiding. “Luna Arwen,” he said, voice deep and commanding, carrying easily over the room’s noise. “You honor us with your light tonight.” I managed a smile, though it felt fragile. “And you, my Alpha, outshine the moon itself.” Laughter rippled through the crowd — lighthearted, teasing. Kael’s eyes softened for a heartbeat before he motioned me to his side. As I sat beside him, the music rose again. Dancers swirled in silver and black, wolves toasting to the future of the pack, to peace, to unity. Unity. The word rang hollow in my chest. Kael leaned close, his breath warm against my ear. “You disappeared this morning.” “I needed air,” I murmured, avoiding his gaze. He studied me for a long moment. “What happened last night, Arwen — at the arch — it wasn’t normal.” My fingers tightened around the goblet. “It was nothing. The moon’s energy… maybe it reacted to us.” His hand brushed mine under the table. His touch was gentle, but his tone carried the weight of command. “You don’t need to lie to me.” I swallowed hard. “And you don’t need to worry.” He didn’t answer — just stared for a moment longer before turning to address the crowd. I tried to breathe. To act normal. To smile as the Luna everyone expected. But the longer I sat there, the more my magic coiled beneath the surface — restless, anxious, hungry. When the music shifted, Kael stood and lifted his goblet high. “To the Silvermoon Pack,” he declared, voice booming. “To loyalty, strength, and the bond that unites us all beneath the moon.” The hall erupted in cheers. I raised my cup too, forcing myself to join. But as the firelight reflected off the liquid inside, I noticed the faintest shimmer — blue, not gold — dancing across the surface. Magic. Panic clawed through me. I blinked, willing it away, and for a moment, it faded. “Are you all right?” Elior murmured from across the table, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched me. “I’m fine,” I lied again. My hand trembled as I set the cup down. “Just tired.” But then, as Kael continued speaking, something strange happened. The candles along the walls began to flicker — not with flame, but with silver light. The same light that had poured from me last night. No one seemed to notice at first. The laughter continued, the clinking of plates, the music… Until one by one, the candles flared brighter, glowing unnaturally, as though the moon itself had slipped inside the hall. Kael paused mid-sentence. Heads turned. A low murmur rippled through the room. “What in the—” someone whispered. My chest constricted. I could feel it — the pulse of my power bleeding into the world again, feeding on my nerves. The magic responded to emotion — to fear, to guilt, to the one thing I couldn’t control. I gripped the edge of the table, desperate to contain it. Not now. Please, not now. Then Kael’s voice, quiet but sharp, reached me. “Arwen.” I froze. His golden eyes locked on mine, the bond between us alive and humming. He could feel it — not just my panic, but the strange, foreign energy threading through me. The candles flickered again. This time, the flames turned blue. Gasps echoed across the hall. And just like that, the entire room was drenched in silver light. The pack stood in stunned silence. Even the music faltered. Kael rose slowly, his eyes never leaving me. “Everyone… remain calm.” But they weren’t calm. I could feel the fear in the air — the uncertainty, the whispers. “Witchfire,” someone muttered. “That’s witchfire—” “No.” Kael’s voice thundered across the room, silencing them instantly. “No witch would dare cross this hall.” But even as he spoke, his gaze searched my face — too long, too intent. My secret teetered on the edge again. I forced a deep breath and lifted my hands. “It’s a blessing,” I said, somehow steadying my tone. “From the moon herself — a sign of unity.” For a long, tense moment, no one moved. Then, as if answering my lie, the flames calmed. The silver glow dimmed. The hall returned to normal light. Kael exhaled, slow and measured, but the doubt in his eyes didn’t fade. The pack cheered hesitantly, then louder, believing my words, desperate for normalcy. Music resumed, laughter awkwardly returning. But Kael didn’t sit. He leaned close to me, his voice a low growl only I could hear. “That wasn’t the moon.” My heart thudded painfully. “Kael—” He stood abruptly, leaving his goblet half full and his chair empty. “Excuse me,” he announced to the pack. “I need air.” And then he was gone — slipping out the side doors into the cold night. I sat frozen, pretending not to notice the curious glances, the whispers that followed his exit. Elior leaned toward me, his voice barely a breath. “You need to tell him the truth before someone else does.” “I can’t,” I whispered. “Not yet.” He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Secrets don’t stay buried long in a pack. Especially not with Kael.” Before I could answer, the great doors opened again. A cold gust swept through the hall, snuffing half the candles. The sudden chill made the hairs on my arms rise. At first, I thought it was just the wind. But then — A voice, low and feminine, echoed faintly through the hall. “Witch of the Moon… the time for hiding is over.” My blood turned to ice. No one else seemed to hear it. The crowd carried on, unaware. But I heard every word — whispering directly to me. I looked toward the doors. And there, just beyond the threshold, a figure stood — cloaked in black, her eyes glowing faintly crimson beneath the hood. My heart stopped. Sera. The feast’s joy collapses into dread as Arwen’s long-lost coven sister — and her greatest threat — appears at the edge of the pack’s celebration, ready to expose everything she’s hidden.