The pale light of dawn broke over the horizon, casting a cool blue hue on the high stone towers of Silverveil. The once lively hum of the night had dwindled into a hush, broken only by the rhythmic clink of armor and the low murmurs of exhausted men.
The warriors of Silverveil dragged their feet back to the barracks, their eyes heavy, limbs aching. They had spent the entire night guarding the palace from unseen threats, posted at every corner, tree, and shadowed alcove. Sleep pulled at them like a tide. The massive palace doors creaked open.
From within, Alpha Lucian emerged, surrounded by his personal guards. He stood tall and commanding as always, the wind brushing through his dark cloak as he descended the steps.
The men immediately froze and straightened at the sight of their Alpha, then dropped to one knee in respect. As Lucian approached, he raised a hand.
"At ease," he said quietly.
The soldiers rose and continued toward the barracks, grateful for the dismissal. Only two men remained behind, Philus and Zurix, their eyes still sharp despite the long watch.
Philus bowed low, his armor gleaming in the new morning sun. "Your Grace."
Lucian stopped before them, his expression unreadable.
"Philus," he said.
"Any reports from last night? What did you and the men find?"
Philus looked up, his voice firm but laced with frustration.
"Your Grace, we found nothing."
Lucian raised a brow.
"Nothing?" His tone was skeptical.
"That's not possible."
Zurix stepped forward, arms folded.
"It is true, Your Grace. We stationed ourselves in the treetops, in the bushes, even the shadowed corners of the palace. Not even a flicker of movement. Whatever it is, if it's there, it's beyond our senses."
Alpha Lucian narrowed his eyes, his gaze drifting toward the woods that surrounded the palace like a sleeping beast. His jaw clenched as a thought took root, his wife, the High Priestess of their order, had not merely dreamed something. She had seen it.
"I tell you this now," Lucian said, voice low and grim.
"Last night, the High Priestess had a vision. She encountered this evil creature directly."
Zurix's eyes widened.
"What did it look like, Your Grace?"
Lucian shook his head.
"She couldn't see it clearly. It was too fast. The woods were dark. Before she could make out its form, it attacked her, and she was pulled from the vision."
Philus's expression darkened.
"Then this enemy must know our ways well, to move through the shadows without detection. It studied us. It avoided us."
Lucian's gaze sharpened.
A dangerous thought sparked in the depths of his mind, could it have been one of us? But he pushed it away. With a heavy sigh, he raised his hand.
"You are dismissed."
Philus and Zurix bowed, then turned and made their way back toward the barracks, fading into the misty quiet of the morning.
Back in the castle, Amaya lay bundled under thick bed covers, the warmth of sleep still wrapped around her limbs. She stirred as the doors to her chambers burst open.
"Selene…?" she mumbled, barely lifting her head.
But the answer came not from her maid. The sheets were pulled away in a single, swift motion, and she gasped, jolting up.
"Mother?" she blinked.
Luna Jamayah stood over her, dressed in her ceremonial black-and-gold robe, the symbol of the Moon Crest stitched on her collar. She sat on the edge of Amaya's bed, her expression firm.
"Child, I must speak with you at once."
Amaya sat upright, the weight of her mother's voice pulling her fully awake.
"What is it?"
"There is danger in these lands, Amaya," Jamayah said.
"Last night, I had a vision. I was pulled into a trance, and I saw through the eyes of a raven. I felt it, the evil. It's real. It's moving among us. It attacked me before I could see its face."
Amaya swallowed hard. Her mother's visions were not the dreams of ordinary women, they were divine glimpses from the old spirits. And when they spoke of evil, it meant war or worse. Jamayah took her daughter's hand, her tone gentler.
"Soon, you will choose a mate and be crowned Luna. The battles ahead will not grow easier, they will grow greater. We must begin your preparations anew. More than strength or beauty, a Luna must have foresight and resilience."
Amaya nodded solemnly, feeling the pressure settle on her shoulders like a cloak she could not yet wear with ease. At the door, Selene stood quietly. Luna Jamayah turned to her and nodded. Selene curtsied and moved swiftly into the bathing chamber to draw a warm bath.
Jamayah rose from the bed and walked toward the exit. Before she left, she looked back over her shoulder.
"When she's ready, notify me at once."
"Yes, Your Grace," Selene replied.
After Amaya was bathed and dressed in soft blue silks, her long hair braided and pinned, she stepped out into the hallway where her mother was already waiting. Jamayah did not speak. She simply turned and walked. Amaya followed quickly behind, matching her pace.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
Jamayah glanced over with a cryptic smile.
"You'll see."
The air in the hallway shifted. It grew cooler as they moved away from the sunlit chambers and into the deeper halls of the palace. The stone became older, the paintings on the wall faded and covered in dust. When they turned a corner, Amaya's heart skipped.
"The royal library?" she guessed.
But Jamayah shook her head.
"No."
They stopped beside the library doors, but instead of opening them, Luna Jamayah walked to a nearby torch sconce that hung further down the wall. She grasped it, twisted it downward with a slight creak, and the wall beside them shifted, revealing a narrow passage. Amaya gasped, eyes wide.
"How many secret doors and tunnels are in this castle?"
Lady Jamayah chuckled softly. "Enough."
She stepped inside. Amaya hesitated for only a second before following her mother into the hidden passage. The stone door closed behind them with a quiet thud, sealing them in the dark with only the torch Jamayah carried.