It had been days since Jarek had stood in the training field, smirking and challenging her in front of everyone. Days since his words pierced sharper than claws.
Leora had learned quickly that the elite group thrived on taunting her. They never attacked her outright—no, that would be too obvious—but instead, they tested her in clever, calculated ways. A snide comment here, an "innocent" remark about her worthiness there. At first, their arrogance had stung, but with Nyra's constant presence at her side, Leora had been learning how to smile through it.
Today was no different.
She and Nyra had just finished their lunch, walking out of the cafeteria into the wide stone corridor buzzing with students. Laughter, the clatter of trays, the chatter of young wolves. Leora was starting to feel at ease when it happened—
A girl stumbled right into her. The tray in the girl's hands tipped forward, splattering soup and drink across Leora's uniform. Gasps erupted around them.
The girl's face went pale. She dropped to her knees. "I—I'm so sorry, Luna! Please forgive me, it was an accident!"
Dozens of eyes turned to Leora, hungry to see how she would respond. The Luna, drenched in food. Would she rage? Would she humiliate the girl?
Leora only smiled, soft and calm. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." She reached down and helped the girl to her feet. Her kindness only seemed to shock the onlookers more.
Nyra whispered beside her, "You really don't care, do you?"
Leora gave a faint shrug. "It's just food."
But her uniform was a mess, and she couldn't walk around like that. Nyra quickly guided her toward the changing rooms by the east wing, while Theron followed silently a few steps behind, as he always did—an ever-present shadow.
Inside, the scent of soap and steam filled the tiled space. Leora slipped the chain from her neck, the cool weight of her pendant pressing into her palm before she turned to Nyra.
"Hold this for me, I don't like wearing it while I shower. I'll need a new uniform too. Could you ask the principal for one?".
Nyra froze, staring at the pendant in disbelief. " No way. Leora… you're trusting me with this? It's the moon pendant, you are not supposed to pass it on to another person unless you are ready to forfeit the throne"
Leora pressed it gently into her hand, smiling "You're my friend. I trust you."
The words made Nyra's throat tighten. She nodded quickly, clutching it with care. "I won't let anything happen to it. I promise."
Unaware of the storm building outside, Leora disappeared into the steam of the shower.
Theron stood by the door, arms crossed, sharp eyes scanning the hallway. He noticed every movement, every sound but he didn't know Nyra had the pendant when she left the room. So when Nyra returned to the changing room, carrying both the folded fresh uniform and the glowing pendant resting on top, his gaze locked instantly.
He moved like a predator, blocking her path. His deep voice was low and steady. "Where did you get that?"
Nyra stiffened, startled. "Leora gave it to me. She asked me to hold it while she showered."
A dark frown flickered across his face. "She would never do that."
Nyra blinked. "What? Of course she would, she—"
"No." His voice cut sharper now, though still quiet enough not to draw attention. "No Luna would carelessly hand over her pendant. It is tied to her soul. Her bloodline. Unless—"
He stopped himself, but suspicion burned in his eyes.
Nyra swallowed hard. "Believe what you want. She trusted me." She pushed past him, hurrying back into the changing room.
Theron didn't move, but his mind was spinning.
When Nyra returned to Leora with the uniform and pendant, she helped her dress quickly. The chain slid back around Leora's neck, the pendant settling against her chest with its usual faint blue glow.
They stepped outside together. And there he was.
Theron's gaze was already on her, intense, calculating, as if he was stripping away every layer of her calm exterior. His eyes lingered on the pendant. He had expected it to shift in color if it had truly passed hands. But no—it glowed steady, the same clear shade of blue as her eyes.
That was when the truth hit him.
All of his suspicions… all of his instincts… were right…there was something off about her.
She met his gaze, trying to remain calm, but something about the way he looked at her made her stomach twist. She had no idea what he had just uncovered, but she felt the weight of it in the silence between them.
Nyra nudged her softly, breaking the moment. "Come on, let's go."
Theron's sharp eyes stayed fixed on the pendant, and then on her. The color hadn't changed. That meant only one thing.
Leora walked past him without noticing the weight in his stare, Nyra chatting lightly beside her. But Theron didn't move.
His hands tightened into fists at his sides.
His heartbeat slowed into something dark, deliberate.
His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly. He didn't know what to do, not yet. Wasn't she the Luna? Is she a fake? He tried to push such thoughts away, there was no way Zaria and the elders would risk the throne and kingdom for a fake but the knowledge sat heavy in his chest.
This changes everything.
Every plan. Every step he had taken so far. Every risk.
"I have to tell her" he mumbled to himself as he watched Leora and Nyra from a distance away, chatting and laughing away.