Chapter 23 #2
But the world is aging, and the barrier is thinning with it. Cracks spread. And through those fractures, fragments of the Dark Ruler begin to slip through, scattering seeds of corruption across the world.
What will happen if he is ever fully released? No one wants to find out. Some people simply don’t care about those legends and continue to practice this kind of dark magic for their own personal satisfaction.
And yet, a part of me can’t help but think of how useless my magic is now.
I should have learned more from Mrs. Geeny.
Not dark magic, of course, but my stepmother used to forbid me from practicing any kind of magic.
She even convinced my late father to forbid Mrs. Geeny from teaching me magic at all.
In the end, I’m left with only healing rituals, because that’s all I ever learned.
If I meet Mrs. Geeny again, and I’m stronger this time, could I finally learn a little more? Just enough to make things easier. Just enough so I’m not looked down on anymore. Maybe even enough to stand my ground against Alastair.
I glance back despite myself, catching sight of Harlow crouched over the body, his broad frame shielding most of it from view. The dead man’s dirty jeans and worn sneakers stand out horribly against the stone. Just seeing his legs lying there, limp and lifeless, makes my skin crawl. Who did this?
“There’s wolfsbane oil around his neck and chest,” Harlow continues. “The markings are deliberate. A circle with rune letters. And from the color and smell, this isn’t standard wolfsbane.”
“Who would dare use dark magic inside Silver Moon?” I frown, but no name comes to mind. The cruelty alone is sickening.
“I don’t know,” he says. “But it’s clear someone lured him here, killed him, and used his head as an offering.”
“Then why hasn’t anyone found him?” I ask, nose wrinkling. “The smell alone should’ve tipped off the border patrol.”
“This area only opens during Alpha trials,” Harlow explains as he stands and walks back to me. I turn fully away from the body again. “That’s once every few decades. It’s far from any houses, so no one would’ve noticed. Even if guards caught the smell, they probably assumed it was an animal.”
He pauses, thoughtful. “With the stream dried up, there’s no risk of contamination. Whoever did this might’ve planned to clean it up later. Or maybe not at all.”
“That means the killer knows about this cave,” Mythril says. “An insider.”
“Can you tell who the victim is?” I ask quietly. “Anything we can use?”
“No ID.” Harlow opens his backpack, pulls out a jacket, and gently drapes it over my head. “We’ll leave this for now. Even if someone’s messing with dark magic, it’s not our fight. Come on. I’ll make sure you don’t see it.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “You’re right. Getting my inheritance back comes first.”
I tighten the jacket around my head, blocking out the sight and the smell. Harlow stays close as we move on, steady and protective, making sure I don’t turn back.
Rumors of the Dark Ruler’s resurgence and the use of dark magic among magical beings have circulated for years. Everybody talks about it in the club, Mr. Moris included. But then they ignore it, and so do I, having never seen any real proof behind those whispers.
Now that I see the grim reality of those rumors with my own eyes, a sliver of unease creeps into my heart. It spreads quietly, yet stays buried beneath a much heavier worry. My priority remains the same. I have to confront my stepmother and reclaim my inheritance.
After stepping up one ledge after another, we emerge from the tunnel and back into the open air. The cliffs grow steeper, and I have to engage all my senses just to keep my balance.
My hands dig deep into the boulders. I lift my legs high and push myself upward. With a solid foothold and Harlow’s steady pull, I manage to climb up the cliff. My breath comes out ragged as I crawl forward, putting as much distance as I can between myself and the edge.
“Come on,” Harlow says, helping me back to my feet.
We don’t waste time. We move through the dense forest toward Mrs. Geeny’s cabin. Along the way, we don’t encounter a single guard. The forest feels wrong in its stillness. No werewolves. No movement.
Only the soft whisper of wind moving through the trees follows us. The night deepens, the moon climbing higher, casting shadows that seem to stretch and breathe on their own.
We push farther into Silver Moon’s residential area. My mouth parts when I spot Mrs. Geeny standing in front of her cabin. She looks straight at us and lifts a hand, motioning for us to come inside.
Mrs. Geeny sets three cups of black tea on the table. Her calm frustrates me, but I keep my mouth shut. My gaze drifts to the steam rising from the cups.
“Seriously? We’re on an important mission,” Mythril growls inside my head. “Why are we sitting around drinking tea like we’ve got nowhere to be? Where’s the lawyer?”
I grit my teeth and force patience where irritation wants to take over. I don’t know why Mrs. Geeny is doing this, but I owe her. She’s taught me magic when no one else would.
“You still mad at her for chaining you last time you went berserk?” I ask Mythril, my lips twitching.
“Aren’t you?” she snaps. “She messed with your memory.”
“So I wouldn’t hate you, and hate myself, for killing my father,” I push her back deeper into my consciousness.
It was a tragedy. An accident I can never undo. My dad is gone, and Mrs. Geeny did what she believed was right at the time.
Yes, I want to lie on the floor and cry for months. I want to scream and tear myself apart for the guilt I carry. But this debt with Alastair keeps me from giving in to that urge. And my father wouldn’t forgive me if I let Alastair burn Silver Moon to ashes.
So, for whatever reason, I’m grateful for what Mrs. Geeny did. Even if a part of me still wonders what she took along with the pain, and what she might have sacrificed to keep the spell in place all those years, until I was strong enough to break it myself.
She used memory manipulation magic to pull me out of despair and taught me how to live with myself again.
Her enchanted chains helped tame Mythril and bind the worst parts of my past. It must have taken a great deal of her energy, maybe even something deeply important to her, to sustain it for so long.
For that, what I feel for her now is nothing but gratitude and respect.
“Where’s Mr. Pascoe?” I ask as Harlow and Mrs. Geeny sip their tea.
My father’s lawyer is one of his most trusted advisors. He served as Delta, a counselor, during my father’s leadership. If I can meet him tonight, things will finally start to make sense.
“He was here earlier,” Mrs. Geeny says. “But Beta Drake sent for him. He’ll likely come by after.”
“Alright,” I say, drawing in a slow breath and forcing a small smile. “If waiting an hour gets us what we need, I can live with that.”
Mrs. Geeny shakes her head. “You won’t achieve your goal here. The Moon Goddess showed me in a dream last night.”
My heart drops. I blink, gathering every scrap of courage I have to keep my fear in check. My voice wavers, and cold sweat dampens my temples as I ask her anyway.
I swallow hard. “We don’t know the full meaning of it. And sooner or later, I was going to meet Mr. Pascoe regardless.”
Mrs. Geeny shakes her head again. “No. You won’t be able to seek his help.”
“We can’t live our lives entirely by prophecy,” I say, stubborn heat creeping into my voice. “Our fate is still ours to choose.”
“Yes,” she replies gently, “but the Moon Goddess sees what lies ahead. She warned you in the only way she could, about what happens when you choose the wrong path.”
I fall quiet, turning her words over in my mind. I want to listen. I really do. But I can’t let go. I suck in my cheeks and bite down on my lower lip, holding myself together when all I want is to scream and fight whatever future the Moon Goddess has laid out for me.
“Fine,” I say finally. “If reclaiming my inheritance isn’t my destiny, then tell me this. What am I supposed to do about my stepmother? How do I get free from Alpha Alastair’s hold on me?”
Mrs. Geeny takes a slow sip of tea before setting her cup back on the saucer. “That choice is yours alone. There’s more than one road to get where you’re going. You just have to decide what kind of road you’re willing to walk.”
Her gaze shifts to Harlow.
“I can’t make the decision for you,” she continues. “But the Moon Goddess has already shown you your purpose. You’ve learned to control your wolf now. Things are coming into focus.”
Her words still sound like riddles.
“What is my purpose?” I press.
Mrs. Geeny looks straight at me. There’s no doubt in her eyes, only a solemn certainty that makes my chest tighten. Her voice trembles as she reaches for my hand.
“You are The Supreme Luna.”