Chapter 21
Jul 18, 2025
The Oracle’s summons came at midnight—a piece of parchment slipped beneath my door bearing ancient symbols that burned the moment I read them.
“The Vault Beneath the Throne. Come alone. Bring fire.”
But I didn’t come alone. Hector and Sariah flanked me as we descended into tunnels that predated the castle itself. Our torches cast writhing shadows on walls carved with the faces of women—Luna Matriarchs from centuries past, their necks adorned with sigils identical to mine.
“They’re all marked,” Sariah whispered, her voice echoing off stone. “Every single one.”
“The bloodline runs deeper than they told us,” Hector said grimly. His hand rested on his sword hilt as we moved deeper underground.
The tunnel opened into a vast chamber that took my breath away. Shelves stretched to impossible heights, loaded with scrolls, tomes, and artifacts that pulsed with dormant magic. At the center, the Oracle waited beside a pedestal bearing a single document.
“The Luna Rebellion Doctrine,” she said without preamble. “Read it.”
My hands trembled as I unrolled the ancient parchment. The words blazed to life under torchlight, revealing truths that shattered everything I’d believed.
“The Games were never about finding mates,” I read aloud, my voice growing stronger with each word. “They were designed to identify and destroy the bloodline capable of unseating the Alpha Council’s absolute rule.”
“A culling,” Sariah breathed. “Disguised as a celebration.”
“Every generation, they gather the Luna-marked,” the Oracle continued. “Force them to compete, to weaken each other, to break their spirits before the true power can awaken.”
Hector moved to another shelf, his fingers tracing leather-bound volumes. A torn page fluttered to the ground—parchment that made him freeze solid.
“What is it?” I demanded.
He lifted the fragment with shaking hands. “My mother’s handwriting.”
The Oracle nodded gravely. “Lady Catherine Veylor. She died trying to expose this truth.”
Hector’s voice cracked as he read: “The last Luna Seal must never bond under command. She must choose in fire, or the bloodline dies forever.”
Fire. The sacred flame. The crown I’d destroyed.
“You knew,” I said, pieces clicking into place. “You knew what I was from the beginning.”
“I suspected.” His eyes met mine across the flickering torchlight. “But I wasn’t certain until your sigils blazed during the duel.”
“Then why?” My voice rose, echoing off ancient stones. “Why did you really join the Games, Hector? Not the lies you told the Council—the truth.”
He set down the fragment carefully, as if it might shatter. “To sabotage them from the inside. My mother died trying to bring down this system. I promised her I’d finish what she started.”
“A saboteur,” Sariah whispered. “You’ve been working against them all along.”
“Every strategy session I attended, every private meeting with the Elders—I fed information to the resistance networks my mother built.” His jaw clenched. “I was supposed to identify the Luna-marked candidates and help them escape before the final trials.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “And me?”
He stepped closer, torchlight dancing across his features. “You’re the only thing I didn’t plan for.”
“What do you mean?”
“I expected to find someone I could protect, someone I could save and send away to safety.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I didn’t expect to find someone who could save herself. Someone who could save all of us.”
The words hung between us like bridge we were afraid to cross.
“You fell in love with me,” I said.
“I fell in love with your fire.” His hand lifted toward my face, stopping just short of touching. “With your refusal to kneel. With the way you looked at their crown and chose to burn it rather than wear it.”
Before I could respond, steel rang against stone.
“How touching.”
We spun as Vaela emerged from the shadows, sword drawn and gleaming. Her elaborate court gown had been replaced with black leather armor that moved like liquid shadow.
“Vaela,” Hector snarled. “How did you—”
“Follow you? Please.” She smiled, the expression sharp enough to cut glass. “Did you really think the Elders wouldn’t have someone watching their greatest threat?”
“You work for them,” I said, the betrayal hitting like a physical blow.
“I am them.”
