Darius didn’t sleep that night.
Neither did I.
After Roric left with orders to guard the chambers, we stayed up reading the recovered Council records by firelight. Aria slept between us in the bassinet. Elias had fallen asleep against my side, clutching her blanket like it was armor.
The records were old. Older than the Citadel. Parchment brittle with age, ink faded to brown. Written in High Lycan, the language only the royal bloodline could read without pain.
“The last Moonblood Queen was named Lyra,” Darius translated, voice low so he wouldn’t wake Aria. “300 years ago. She was born during a blood moon. Like Aria.”
My blood ran cold. Aria was born during the blood moon of her coronation.
Lyra’s records were brutal. Short. Angry.
_“The female child born of full Moonblood is not a b
