Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 42: Chapter 42

The silence that followed Elric’s declaration was a blade in the air—sharp, taut, and ready to cut. The throne room felt too cold, too wide. The torches flickered against the stone walls, shadows dancing like ghosts along the columns.
Seraphina stood at the top of the dais, the Crescent Blade still strapped to her back, but it felt heavier than usual.
The First Wolf is her father.
The words echoed again and again.
“Say it again,” she whispered.
Elric lifted his head. “Your fire comes from your mother. But your rebirth—your second soul, the one that resurrected you—was fused by an ancient magic. A binding Celestine began when you were only a child. Your father was not King Aldric of Windrest. He only raised you. Your blood… it belongs to the Hollow.”
Darian’s growl rumbled from behind her. “You expect us to believe this?”
“I don’t care what you believe,” Elric said, blood drying on his split lip. “I only care that Seraphina knows. Because Celestine’s not trying to destroy her. She’s trying to awaken her.”
A Fire Within
Later, Seraphina stood alone in the Temple of the Moon.
She paced before the altar, hands fisting at her sides.
Half of her wanted to tear Elric apart for what he’d revealed.
The other half feared he might be right.
“Mother Moon,” she whispered, falling to her knees. “What have you done to me?”
Behind her, the temple doors opened softly.
Darian entered. No words. Just warmth.
He knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms.
“Whatever your blood is,” he murmured into her hair, “it doesn’t change who you are. I’ve seen your heart. I’ve touched your soul.”
She let out a shaky breath. “And if I become something else?”
“Then I’ll remind you who you were.”
Steamy Reassurance
That night, beneath the glow of moonlight and firelight, Seraphina reached for Darian—not with desperation, but with devotion. She needed to feel alive. Needed to feel his truth above all others.
They undressed each other slowly, reverently, like unraveling sacred scripture.
His lips trailed over the hollow of her throat.
Her fingers tangled in his hair as his kisses deepened, hands exploring skin and scars and the spaces only lovers knew.
“I don’t care what the Moon says,” he whispered as he entered her. “You belong here. With me.”
Their bodies moved together—deliberate, rhythmic, divine.
When they collapsed in each other’s arms, wrapped in sweat and silk, Seraphina whispered, “You are my anchor.”
“And you,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers, “are my storm.”
The Trial of Truth
The next morning, the High Council convened. Elders. Generals. Oracles.
Elric stood chained at the center, but tall, defiant.
“He cannot be trusted,” Mira said. “He’s lied before.”
“But his knowledge may save us,” Lucien countered.
Kael added, “And if the First Wolf is stirring, Seraphina needs answers from someone who’s seen the other side.”
Seraphina rose, voice cutting through the debate. “Then he will live. For now. But his freedom ends at these walls. Guard him with your best.”
Darian's jaw ticked.
“We’ll watch him,” Seraphina added, “and use him if we must. But the next lie… will be his last.”
The Legacy Revealed
That night, Seraphina descended into the ancient catacombs beneath Windrest.
Guided by Sylra, she passed through long-forgotten corridors carved in stone older than any kingdom.
“We keep records,” Sylra whispered, “of every Luna who walks the Moon’s path.”
In the deepest chamber, beneath a statue of a wolf carved in silver and obsidian, Seraphina found it:
A birth scroll, sealed in blood and magic.
Her name—Seraphina.
But beside it, her parents: Queen Alara of Windrest… and Unknown.
And under that, scrawled in ancient script:
> “Blood split at birth. One of fire. One of shadow. One day, she shall rise to choose between them.”
The Confession
When she returned to her chamber, Darian was already waiting.
“I know that look,” he said, standing from the edge of the bed.
“Then you know I’m breaking inside,” she replied, closing the door.
He crossed the room and pulled her into him.
“I don’t care what blood flows through you,” he said. “You’ve already chosen who you are every time you rose from the ashes.”
“But what if I can’t fight it, Darian?” she said, voice trembling. “What if she awakens the part of me that isn’t me?”
He cupped her face gently.
“Then I’ll be there to hold you together.”
A Dangerous Bargain
The next day, Elric requested an audience.
“I know where she plans to perform the awakening ritual,” he said. “In the heart of the Hollowgrove. A place only the cursed can walk.”
Seraphina narrowed her eyes. “And you?”
“I was cursed long before you ever were, remember?”
“And what’s the price for your guidance?”
He smiled. “A chance to redeem myself.”
Darian stepped forward. “She already has a protector.”
“I’m not here to fight you, Alpha,” Elric said calmly. “I’m here to end what I started.”
Seraphina studied him for a long moment.
Then nodded. “We ride at dawn.”
The Shadow Stirs
That night, in the eastern forest outside Windrest, something moved beneath the trees.
Not a beast.
Not a man.
But a presence.
A figure cloaked in silver and black, eyes burning with lightless flame, stepped into the clearing.
The trees bent around him.
The stars blinked out above.
He lifted his hand, and the earth cracked.
He is waking.
The Hollow One was no longer a myth.
And he was calling his daughter home.