Moonlit Vows Of Vengeance

Chapter 109: Who Am I?

While Kieran and I were still talking, there was a sudden knock on the door.

A guard stepped inside the chamber, head bowed low. "My lady," he said, not looking me in the eyes, "I’ve been sent to remind you. The Ritual of the Wolfstone is to commence at midmorning. Preparations are complete."

I blinked. "The... what?"

"The annual rite," he said slowly, as if I might’ve hit my head harder than anyone realized. "To reaffirm the goddess’s favor. It’s what every ruler does.

A tradition stretching back to—"

"I know what it is," I cut in, trying not to let my voice tremble. "I’d simply forgotten today was the date."

That was a lie. A bad one.

The guard didn’t say anything else. He bowed again, then left in silence.

The door clicked shut behind him. I turned slowly to Kieran.

He was already watching me, his brow drawn, worry etched plainly on his face. "You’re not ready. You can’t do it."

"It doesn’t matter," I muttered, pacing away from him. My heartbeat had begun to race. I rubbed my palms down the sides of my robes, as though I could force the power back into my body with sheer friction.

"It’s just ceremonial," he said gently. "No one expects a divine miracle."

I whipped around. "They would at least expect the stone to glow. They expect me to show them I’m in power. I’m still strong. If I touch that thing and it stays dark, they’ll know, Kieran. I’ll lose more than their loyalty. I’ll lose control."

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t need to.

Because we both knew it was true.

I hadn’t shifted since I lost my powers. I hadn’t summoned moonlight, hadn’t heard the hum of divine magic in my bones. I was barely holding onto the fragments of what I once was. And now — I had to walk out in front of the noble wolves and pretend.

"You could feign illness," he offered. "Delay it a few days."

"They’ll smell the lie. Wolves always do."

"Athena..." He stepped toward me. "Then don’t pretend. Tell them the truth. You’re still rebuilding. That makes you—"

"Powerless." The word snapped like a whip. "It makes me powerless."

Silence again. Thick. Heavy.

"I need time," I whispered, pressing my hand over my chest where the magic used to burn beneath my skin. "Time to figure out how to get it back."

He watched me, jaw tight. "Then take it."

"No," I said, straightening. "I’ll attend the ritual."

"Athena—"

"I can’t afford fear. If I run now, they’ll never trust me again."

And if I failed... maybe they’d never forgive me either.

The ancient clearing that lay just beyond the palace grounds was thick with bodies, voices, and generations of expectation. Wolves from every noble house had gathered for the annual ritual, dressed in ceremonial robes of black and silver, their presence a silent reminder of the unbroken tradition that had spanned centuries. A ring of high torches blazed fiercely, despite the full strength of the midday sun, casting dancing shadows that seemed to whisper secrets to the stones beneath their feet.

At the very center of the clearing stood the Wolfstone—a monolithic pillar of pale moonstone, etched with divine runes that glowed faintly with an inner light, as though the soul of the moon itself had been captured within its heart.

As I stepped into the circle, the low murmurs from the crowd dissolved into silence. Every eye was fixed upon me, some curious, others reverent, and many others clouded with doubt. I could feel the weight of their stares pressing against my skin, dissecting me, searching for something that I knew didn’t exist anymore.

Kieran stood just behind me and slightly to my left. I had insisted that he not interfere, though I had seen the tightness in his jaw and the frustration in his eyes when I made that decision. He hadn’t said anything in front of the others, but I could feel his worry like a heat against my back, radiating outward in waves.

One of the elder —an older wolf with a chest as broad as a war shield and a jagged scar cutting from his jaw to his ear—stepped forward to begin the invocation. His voice, though aged, rang clearly over the sacred space.

"Let the blessed sovereign place her hand upon the Wolfstone," he declared, his tone solemn and unwavering. "Let her blood answer the blood of the land. Let the moon remember her."

The words echoed through the clearing like an ancient verdict being delivered once more.

Without waiting for further prompting, I moved forward, each step deliberate and measured. The hem of my white ceremonial gown whispered against the sacred earth, and though my body moved with confidence, I could feel the storm rising inside me.

When I reached the Wolfstone, I paused only for a heartbeat. My hand rose slowly, fingers outstretched, and I pressed my palm flat against its cold surface.

I closed my eyes and tried to will the connection into existence, searching deep within myself for any remaining tether to the divine essence that had once flowed through every fiber of my being.

But the runes remained dark. The stone did not hum. No warmth radiated back into my skin.

I kept my palm pressed against it, desperate, straining silently for something to respond. Nothing came. The silence was complete. Unforgiving.

A full breath passed, and then another.

Still, nothing.

Carefully, I withdrew my hand, doing everything I could to keep the disappointment from showing in my expression. The noble lord watched me closely, his expression unreadable, but the momentary flicker of confusion did not escape me. Around him, the crowd remained utterly still. The silence had shifted. What had once been reverent was now suffocating.

"I am tired," I said, my voice composed despite the heaviness in my chest. "As are we all. But this means nothing. I will try again in another few days."

No one responded. There were no bows of reverence, no words of blessing or loyalty. The ritual had not been completed. And the people had seen it.

Without hesitation, I turned away and began walking back down the stone path that led to the palace. Each step away from the Wolfstone felt like a stone sinking deeper into my stomach. I could feel the eyes of every wolf following my retreat, and though I kept my posture unbent, something inside me cracked.

Kieran fell into step beside me only once we were out of earshot.

"You should have waited," he said quietly, not accusing me, but unable to hide the edge of worry in his tone.

"If I had waited any longer," I replied, my voice thin, "they would have assumed I was hiding something." I let out a slow breath that trembled slightly at the end. "Anyways, now they know."

"They don’t know anything," he said firmly. "They only saw that the stone didn’t answer."

"That’s enough," I whispered, looking straight ahead. "For them, that will be enough."

Only once we were beyond the clearing did I let the stiffness in my shoulders sag. Kieran said nothing. Neither did I.

Not until we reached the corridor leading toward my private chambers. noveldrama

"I shouldn’t have gone," I murmured. My voice sounded thinner than I expected.

"It’s already done," Kieran said. His voice was low, calm, but something behind it pulsed — restrained fury. "But like I said it doesn’t matter. Besides, they needed to see you."

"They didn’t see anything," I snapped, spinning on him. "

I turned away before I could say something I’d regret and continued walking. My steps echoed through the empty hallway. It felt colder than it should have, like even the walls were beginning to lose faith.

By the time I reached my chambers, I felt hollow.

The guards bowed and let me pass. I said nothing to them. What could I possibly say?

Inside, the room was dim, the shutters drawn. The fire had burned low, casting soft amber light across the walls.

I moved to the mirror.

Not because I wanted to look.

But because I had to.

The reflection that met me was... familiar. Yet strange.

Silver hair tangled at the ends. A pale face, regal and strong — but with a shadow under the eyes, a hollowness that hadn’t been there before. The moon goddess without her light.

"Who are you now?" I whispered.

No answer. Not even from within.

I touched my chest, as if I could will the divine power back. Will the silver light to return. But it didn’t. Not even a spark.

The knock on the door came soft, hesitant.

Kieran’s voice followed.

"They’ve begun to whisper," he said from beyond the wood. "Some of the nobles. I heard two of them as we walked back."

He continued, "They’re wondering if the moon goddess has truly returned. if she truly did."

I pressed my palm against the mirror.

"What did you say to them?" I asked.

"I reminded them who rebuilt their walls. Who broke the king. "