The Cloaked One
917 Words
Chapter 18 – The Cloaked One
Anna’s Point of View
The figure was gone, but the chill it left behind lingered like smoke in Anna’s lungs.
She blinked against the moonlight, searching the treeline again, but there was nothing—no scent, no sound, not even a breeze rustling the leaves. Just the oppressive silence that follows a battle too easily won.
Richard was still holding her, his chest rising and falling against her back. His warmth grounded her, but her mind had already left the packhouse walls.
That figure had been watching her.
Not the battle. Her.
You are not whole yet, the whisper echoed again, softer now, like it had been carried on the wind or… planted in her soul.
She swallowed hard.
“Did you see him?” she asked Richard without turning.
“Who?” His arms stiffened slightly. “One of the rogues?”
“No.” She shook her head. “There was… something else. Someone else. A cloaked figure, standing in the trees.”
Richard’s silence confirmed what she feared—he hadn’t seen anything.
But she had.
---
The aftermath of the battle blurred past her in a daze. Healers rushed to the wounded, warriors gathered the fallen. Candace was rounding up the young ones, her voice tight with command but trembling beneath the surface. Charlie’s shoulder was bleeding, Johnny had a cut across his jaw, but both were alive.
Alive—but changed.
Everyone had seen what Anna had done.
And they didn’t know what to make of it.
They bowed as she passed. Some even knelt.
She hated it.
She wasn’t a goddess. She wasn’t even sure she was Anna anymore.
---
Later, in her chambers, she stood at the mirror, studying her own reflection.
The mark on her wrist—the crescent moon wrapped in a vine—was glowing faintly even now. It pulsed in time with her heartbeat, and something within it shimmered, like starlight trapped under her skin.
A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.
“Come in,” she called.
Lacy entered quietly, carrying a bowl of herbs and a salve cloth. “For your hands,” she said softly.
Anna looked down. Her palms were raw, small burns from the magic still healing. “Thank you.”
Lacy paused. “They’re calling you the Moon Flame now.”
Anna winced. “That’s… dramatic.”
“You lit up the battlefield, Anna.” Lacy gave a gentle smile. “We needed light. Maybe it was a little dramatic, but sometimes the pack needs a symbol.”
“I’m not a symbol,” Anna whispered.
“No,” Lacy agreed, reaching for her hand. “You’re something far more dangerous.”
---
That night, sleep didn’t come.
Anna curled under the fur blankets, Richard beside her, one arm draped protectively over her waist. The packhouse was quiet, but her mind buzzed like a hive of bees.
The whisper was still there.
And when her eyes closed, the dreams began again.
But this time, she wasn’t in a meadow or a memory.
She was in a temple made of moonstone.
The air shimmered, and white flowers bloomed from cracks in the floor. A river of stars flowed across the ceiling, and in the center of the room stood a tall woman cloaked in silver, her face hidden by a veil of light.
Anna stepped forward.
“Moon Goddess?” she breathed.
The woman inclined her head.
“Why do I feel like I’m falling apart?” Anna asked. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore.”
“You are not falling,” the goddess said. “You are unfolding.”
Anna’s eyes burned. “Unfolding into what?”
The goddess lifted a hand and light poured from her fingertips. “Your soul was splintered at birth. Sealed for your safety.”
“By who?”
The answer was soft and sharp all at once. “By those who feared what you would become.”
---
The temple began to fade, moonlight turning to mist.
“Wait!” Anna cried. “Who was the cloaked figure? What do they want from me?”
The Goddess didn’t answer—at least not with words.
Instead, a symbol formed in the mist: a crescent moon, a crown, and three falling stars.
“Find the others,” the Goddess whispered. “Before the cloaked one does.”
Anna woke with a gasp.
---
Beside her, Richard stirred instantly. “What is it?”
She was drenched in sweat, her heart hammering. “She came to me. The Moon Goddess. Again.”
Richard sat up, tension rippling through his body. “What did she say?”
“That I’m splintered. That parts of me were sealed away. That I have to find the others…” Anna paused, clutching her chest. “Before he does.”
Richard’s eyes sharpened. “The figure in the woods.”
Anna nodded.
“I believe you,” he said, without hesitation. “We’ll find them—these others. Whatever it takes.”
Anna reached for his hand. “You might not like who I become.”
Richard squeezed her fingers. “I’ll love every version of you.”
---
As dawn painted the sky in pink and gold, Anna stood at the window, staring into the trees.
She could feel him still—that cloaked one.
Watching.
Waiting.
And she knew in her bones: this battle had only been the beginning.
- Writer
