Bound By The Moon: The Eternal Bond - Chapter 51: Chapter 51

The palace glittered with veiled anticipation. Beneath the marble and moonlight, Julia felt the pulse of something darker-an undercurrent too deep to see clearly, but there all the same, like the hush before a storm.
She stood at the edge of Kaelith's study, watching him sort through silver-trimmed invitations with a precision that bordered on artistry. Earlier, he had announced there would be a ball for the "welcoming" of her mate. The word had lingered on his tongue like honey laced with poison. It was now the second day since she, Jessy, and Samantha had arrived here, and Jessy's restlessness had been growing by the hour-pacing corridors, muttering about wolves and wasted time.
Kaelith's hands moved with elegant ease, each invitation placed in its perfect place. Yet his eyes were distant, as though his thoughts had already fled to some shadowed place beyond her reach.
"Kaelith," she began carefully, stepping forward, "about Damon. And the werewolves-"
He lifted a hand, silencing her like a parent shushing a child.
"Butterfly," he murmured with a soft, amused tone. "We've already talked about this, hadn't we?"
The faint smile he offered didn't reach his eyes. He rose, walking around the desk with measured grace, the faint scent of dusk and old wine trailing after him.
"I'm preparing something exquisite. For you, my butterfly. Let the wolves gnash their teeth in the dirt. This place-this night-stands far above their filth."
Julia tried again, but his arrogance clung to the air like frost. Her words seemed to lose their shape beneath the weight of his ego. He didn't argue, didn't shout-just leaned in, brushed her forehead with a soft, cold kiss, and vanished like breath on glass.
Left alone in the silence, Julia drifted through the corridors, her thoughts heavy. Time was running out. They needed Kaelith's help to fight Damon-but what would he do if he learned Valen was her mate?
She wandered past archways and shadowed courtyards until she reached the garden under the bruised sky of early evening. Blue shadows stretched over marble paths. Night-blooms unfurled with sleepy elegance, and the air was rich with the scent of dark roses-sweet, but edged with something colder.
That's when she saw her.
The woman stood by the fountain-middle-aged, pale, dressed in gray that seemed both plain and ancient. Her features were delicate, beautiful in a quiet, haunting way. Even Julia, despite the unease curling in her stomach, couldn't ignore it: vampires were always unsettlingly beautiful, even the older ones.
The woman's gaze locked on hers-steady, unblinking, as if she could see straight through her skin to the secrets beneath.
Then she spoke, her voice soft but certain.
"Julia."
Julia froze. A chill trickled down her spine.
How does she know my name?
Before she could speak, her own pulse betrayed her, quickening. She turned and hurried back inside, heart thudding in her ears.
In the dim side corridor, she stopped, leaning against the wall. How long she stood there-seconds, minutes-she didn't know. But the palace felt colder now. Heavier.
And yet... curiosity lingered.
She returned to the garden. The woman was gone. Julia scanned the shadows and nearly turned back-until she spotted her, disappearing around a distant corner.
Julia followed, calling out, "How do you know me?" Her voice was steadier than she felt.
The woman stopped and turned. Her eyes were pale silver, reflecting the moonlight like twin mirrors. Her features were serene-ageless in that uncanny vampire way-but faint laugh lines creased her mouth, hints of a life lived long before immortality.
She didn't answer. Instead, she turned again and walked on.
Julia followed, weaving through cobblestone paths lined with vine-draped gates and weathered walls that whispered of centuries. Finally, they stopped before a small, elegant house standing apart from the city's main sprawl. No guards. No signs of ownership. Just shadows and the faint scent of cold earth.
The woman pushed open the door without a sound and stepped inside.
Julia hesitated, then followed.
The house was beautiful in its own quiet way-arched ceilings, polished floors, pale-blue curtains that swayed even though the air was still. But beauty only lived on the surface. Beneath it, something colder lingered-not just in the temperature, but in the feeling. In memory.
The woman moved with gentle ease, her tone almost cheerful. "There's nothing here you can eat," she said at last, with a faint, apologetic smile. "Wait here. I'll fetch something fresh from the trees."
Before Julia could respond, she slipped out the door.
Julia sat in silence at the carved wooden table. Her fingers tingled from the chill seeping into the room. The woman was unnerving-calm yet unsettling in ways Julia couldn't name. She should leave. She knew she should. But her legs felt heavy, her body unwilling to obey.
The hush in the house was thick, like breath held too long.
She rose, glancing around. Against one wall stood a tall cupboard, its glass doors clouded with dust. Inside, rows of bottles caught the dim light-some round and bulbous like captured moons, others thin and jagged, filled with liquids of strange colors: molten gold, bruised purple, storm-cloud gray. Some seemed to hold petals suspended in liquid... and others, things that looked disturbingly like tiny bones.
Below, leather- books sat crammed together, their spines cracked and curling. Faded titles were written in looping scripts she couldn't read. A faint metallic scent drifted from them, mingling with the dry tang of parchment and something older-blood, perhaps.
A shiver traced her spine.
The air shifted, colder now, as though the walls themselves exhaled winter. She turned toward the corner of the room, where a narrow door stood slightly ajar. A pale, flickering light bled from the gap.
Drawn by a quiet, insistent curiosity, she stepped closer. The temperature dropped with each pace. Her fingers brushed the door's edge, pushing it wider.
The room beyond was a world of frost. Thin veins of ice clung to the walls, glistening faintly. Her breath came out in small clouds. In the center stood a coffin-an ornate thing carved from crystal so blue it seemed born from frozen ocean depths. Its edges caught the flickering blue light, scattering sharp, cold shards of it across the floor.
Julia stepped closer, heart pounding. Beneath the glassy lid, a figure lay motionless, blurred by the frost that clung to the surface. The outline was unmistakably a male's figure.
"Who told you to come in here?"
The voice cracked the cold like a whip. Julia's heart lurched violently as she spun around.
The woman stood framed in the doorway, her silver eyes hard as polished steel. The faint lines that had softened her expression earlier were gone.
"I... I... well..." Julia stammered, her throat dry.
"Get. Out." The words were almost a hiss. Then her fangs slid into view, long and gleaming in the blue light. "Before I drain every drop from your veins."
Julia muttered a hasty apology, her voice trembling, and hurried past her into the hallway, the air outside feeling only slightly less cold than the room she had left behind.
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