Gideon's words were a poison of their own, seeping into the fragile peace I had begun to build. A tormented king? A pack dying from despair? It was a narrative so profoundly at odds with the monster in my memories that my mind rejected it. It had to be a trick. A lie designed to soften me, to make me lower my guard before Damien came to finish what he'd started.
I clung to my hatred. It was a shield, the only thing that had kept me alive in the forest, the only thing that made sense. To doubt it now felt like a betrayal of my own survival.
And yet, the crack in the wall of my certainty remained.
I threw myself into my new life with a quiet desperation, focusing on the tangible things I could control. I spent most of my days with Maeve in the healer's den, learning to identify herbs, grind poultices, and, most importantly, understand the strange, warm energy that emanated from my own hands. My Moon Whisperer abilities, as Lyra had called them, were still a mystery. Maeve explained that they were powers of life and empathy, dormant in most, but a royal birthright in my bloodline. She taught me simple focusing exercises, helping me to coax the gentle, silver light from my palms at will. It was a slow, frustrating process, but for the first time, I felt a sense of purpose beyond just being a mother.
Lucian, true to his word, continued his research, but the curse on my brand was ancient and obscure, its magic woven with a cruelty that resisted simple remedies. He never let his frustration show, always greeting me with a calm strength that was quickly becoming the anchor of my new existence.
My relationship with his sister, Astrid, remained a landscape of ice. She was a constant, silent observer, her eyes missing nothing. She saw the attention her brother gave me, the way the pack was beginning to accept me, and her suspicion festered.
The turning point came on a day that had begun like any other. I was in one of the communal gardens near the base of the Great Tree, helping a few other Omegas tend to the medicinal plants. A group of pups, no older than four or five, were playing a clumsy game of tag nearby, their happy yips and growls echoing in the peaceful afternoon air. Kael was with them, already faster and stronger than pups a year his senior, his laughter the brightest sound in the world.
The attack came without warning.
A shrill, pain-filled shriek cut through the air from the forest's edge, followed by the crash of splintering wood. One of the sentinels on duty was thrown from his watchtower, landing in a broken heap. From the shadows of the forest emerged a creature of nightmare—a 'Gloomfang,' a monstrous, bear-sized rodent known for its foul temper and its venomous bite. It must have been driven mad by sickness to attack a settlement so brazenly.
Panic erupted. The Omegas screamed, scrambling to gather the terrified pups. The pack's emergency horns blared, summoning the warriors, but they were precious seconds away.
The Gloomfang, its eyes red with rabid fury, ignored the adults. It saw the small, panicked pups as easier prey. With a guttural roar, it charged directly towards them.
Kael was closest. He stood frozen for a moment, his small face a mask of shock, before his instincts kicked in. He placed himself in front of a crying younger pup, a tiny, defiant growl rumbling in his chest.
My heart stopped. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.
I didn't think. I acted.
I ran, placing myself between the charging monster and my son. I had no claws to speak of, no fangs, no warrior training. I had nothing but the desperate, primal scream in my soul: You will not touch my child.
As the Gloomfang loomed over me, its foul breath washing over my face, I threw my hands out, just as I had in the woods against Selena. But this time, it wasn't a blind, uncontrolled blast. It was focused. I channeled every ounce of my fear, my love, my desperation, into a single point.
A shield of shimmering, silver light erupted from my palms. It wasn't a physical barrier, but a wave of pure, concentrated tranquility. The light washed over the Gloomfang, and the effect was instantaneous. The beast's rabid, snarling face went slack with confusion. Its charge faltered, its blood-red eyes blinking as if waking from a terrible dream. The killing rage was replaced by a disoriented fear.
It was only a moment's pause, but it was enough.
With a battle cry, Astrid and her warriors descended from the bridges above. Astrid herself, a whirlwind of silver-streaked armor and flashing steel, landed in front of my shield just as it flickered and died. She drove her spear deep into the monster's heart, ending its miserable life.
Silence fell over the courtyard, broken only by the whimpering of the frightened pups. The Omegas rushed forward, gathering their children, their faces filled with gratitude as they looked at me. Kael ran into my arms, burying his face in my dress, trembling but unharmed.
I looked up to see Astrid staring at me. Her usual icy suspicion was gone, replaced by a look of stunned, grudging respect. She had seen what I had done. I hadn't fought like a warrior. I had protected like a Luna.
"Your reflexes are… adequate, for an Omega," she said, her tone clipped, but without its usual venom. She glanced at the dead Gloomfang, then back at me. "You saved those pups." It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.
That evening, Lucian found me by the river, watching Kael skip stones across the water.
"Astrid told me what you did," he said, his voice filled with a quiet pride. "She said she has never seen magic like that. A power that doesn't kill, but calms."
"I didn't know I could do it," I admitted, my voice still shaky from the adrenaline. "I just… reacted."
"You reacted like a queen protecting her people," he said softly. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. His touch was warm, respectful, and it sent a confusing flutter through my chest. "You belong here, Elara. More than you know."
I looked at him, at his kind, honest face, and for the first time, I felt the truth of his words. The bud of trust, planted by his vow to heal me, had finally, tentatively, begun to blossom. The walls I had built around my heart were still there, but for the first time in a long time, a sliver of light was shining through.