Chapter Four: The First Step to Freedom
1186 Words
The first thing Seraya did after the confrontation was shed her Luna colors.
She stood in front of the wardrobe and stripped away the silver-and-sapphire garments—gifts from Kael when they first mated. She left them in a folded pile at the foot of her bed, then donned dark travel leathers, braiding her hair tight and high.
When she stepped into the corridor, she no longer looked like a Luna.
She looked like a warrior.
Talon was already waiting in the war chamber. He glanced up, his lips twitching into something between relief and concern. “You look ready for battle.”
“I am,” she said. “But not the kind I used to fight.”
He tilted his head. “What do you need?”
“I need information. Quietly. I want to know who Kael has been meeting with—outside of Hollowlight. Anyone from Stormfang, Ironvale, or Veyna Reach. Especially Veyna Reach.”
Talon blinked. “That’s a bold net to cast.”
Seraya paced slowly around the room, the echo of her boots the only sound. “Lira wasn’t just a distraction. She was a symptom. Kael’s hiding something.”
“You think she’s a pawn?”
“I think he’s been planning something longer than he’s been straying.”
Talon leaned back. “And the bond?”
She paused, hand brushing the table edge. “It’s still there. Barely. But every time I feel it now, it burns.”
He nodded. “Then it’s time.”
They said nothing for a while. Outside, the wind howled across the northern cliffs.
Finally, Talon stepped forward and laid a sealed scroll before her. “Then we send this. A favor owed, from a long time ago.”
Seraya’s eyes narrowed at the wax symbol. A wolf’s head carved into a crescent moon.
“Skellrin?” she murmured.
He nodded. “Alpha Draven owes you his life. You saved him on the Iron Pass.”
“That was years ago.”
“Wolves remember debt,” Talon said simply. “And Skellrin’s witches know more about bond-severing than anyone.”
Seraya took the scroll, fingers tightening around it. “I’ll need a fast runner.”
“I’ll be faster,” Talon said.
She raised a brow. “You’d leave me alone in Hollowlight right now?”
Talon smiled faintly. “You’ll be watched, even when you think you’re alone.”
He turned to go, but Seraya stopped him.
“Talon,” she said, voice quieter, “Thank you. You’ve stood beside me when you didn’t have to.”
“I did have to,” he said without turning around. “You just forgot how many would follow you if you let them.”
Then he was gone.
By nightfall, Seraya had summoned her younger brother, Eryk, from the outskirts of the southern border. He arrived cloaked in travel dust and impatience, eyes wide as he took in the cold fury in his sister’s expression.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he demanded as soon as they were alone.
“I wasn’t ready to speak it aloud.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m ready to tear down what I helped build.”
Eryk had once been the mischievous pup who shadowed her footsteps through the Hollowlight woods. He had grown into a sharp scout and rogue warrior—his loyalty to Seraya fierce and unshakable.
He knelt before her, pressing a fist over his heart. “What do you need of me?”
Seraya stepped forward and lifted him to his feet.
“I need someone I trust to speak with Stormfang—discreetly. See if Kael’s made any promises. Trade, territory, alliance. And if he’s moving behind my back, I want to know who’s listening.”
Eryk nodded. “What do I tell them?”
“That Seraya Hollowlight no longer asks as Luna. She watches as a wolf.”
Two days later, the reply from Skellrin came by falcon.
Seraya stood in her private solar, unrolling the parchment carefully. The handwriting was sharp and slanted, unmistakably Alpha Draven’s.
“My bond-sister,
I have not forgotten the Iron Pass or what your blade saved me from. If you wish to sever the mate bond, our witches will prepare the Hollow Rite. But I must warn you—such a break is not painless. You will carry the phantom ache long after the tether is gone.”*
“Come before the next crescent moon. Come alone if you must. But come strong, or not at all.”
Seraya traced the last words with her finger. Come strong, or not at all.
The Hollow Rite.
It was said to require three things: blood, truth, and sacrifice. All offered willingly. All irrevocable. The bond wouldn’t fade—it would be ripped.
She folded the parchment and set it aside. The ache in her chest pulsed harder, as if the bond knew its time was ending.
But Kael hadn’t noticed. Or he didn’t care.
He hadn’t sought her out in days. Perhaps he thought her silence was surrender. Perhaps he was relieved.
But Seraya had never surrendered in her life. Not when her parents were killed in a border raid. Not when she became Luna to a male who demanded her strength only when it served him. And she would not start now.
Late that evening, as she sharpened one of her old blades in the quiet of her father’s study, a knock came at the door.
A servant entered, nervous.
“There’s someone here to see you,” she said, “from the Mistcliff Border. He says you summoned him.”
“I summoned no one.”
The servant shifted awkwardly. “He says he’s one of the four.”
Seraya’s heart stopped.
“Four?”
The servant nodded. “Alphas. He wouldn’t give a name. But he knew your mother’s oath. He repeated it word for word.”
Seraya stood slowly. Her mother’s oath was never written—only spoken, once, in battle, to rally allies.
She followed the servant into the great hall.
There, standing by the stone fireplace, was a tall male with silver-touched dark hair and eyes like frostbitten ash. His aura was pure Alpha—coiled strength and old scars. He wore no insignia, but his presence spoke of power earned, not inherited.
“You’re early,” Seraya said, unsure whether to be wary or intrigued.
He smiled faintly. “You’re later than I expected.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Name?”
“Ruvan,” he said. “Alpha of Wyrmrest. And once, your mother’s ally.”
“What do you want?”
“I came because the bond has begun to break. I felt it.” He stepped closer. “And I believe others did too.”
“Others?”
“The Alphas who will follow you,” he said simply. “If you let them.”
Seraya’s pulse thundered.
She’d only just begun to sever one bond—and already, others were forming in the distance like storms on the horizon.
- Writer
