Chapter 151

Chapter 151: Chapter 151

Nyra lay on her bed in the Moon Court, staring at the ceiling.

The room was beautiful—silver walls, crystal windows, a bed of moonbeams and starlight. Everything she could ever want was here. But she felt nothing. No peace. No comfort. Just the cold, gnawing ache of betrayal.

Finn. Her best friend. The boy who had made her laugh when she wanted to cry. The boy who had defended her against Draven. The boy who had held her when she broke down. It had all been a lie. Every joke. Every kind word. Every moment of friendship. A performance.

Why? she thought. Why would he do this? What did I ever do to him?

Luna stirred in her mind, her voice subdued. I don’t know. But your mother—the goddess wouldn’t lie to you. Not about something like this.

Would she? She’s trying to keep me here. Maybe she fabricated the whole thing to make me want to stay.

Nyra...

I know. I know. She wouldn’t. But I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to believe that Finn—

If I ever see his wolf, I’ll tear it apart, Luna snarled. Piece by piece. He’ll suffer for what he did to us.

Nyra closed her eyes. The anger was there, burning beneath the grief. But there was something else too. Something colder. Ragnar, she thought. Does Ragnar know his boyfriend is a traitor? Has he been fooled this whole time too?

She sat up abruptly. "I have to get out of here," she said aloud. "I have to warn them. I have to confront Finn myself. I have to ask him why."

How? Luna asked. The goddess won’t let us leave.

I don’t know yet. But there has to be a way. There has to be.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. The door opened, and her earthly mother stepped inside.

Nyra looked up, then turned away, rolling onto her side. "I don’t want to talk to anyone."

Her mother didn’t leave. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, her silver hair catching the moonlight. For a long moment, she simply sat there, her presence warm and steady.

"I remember the day I found out I was pregnant with you and your brother," she said quietly. "It was the happiest day of my life."

Nyra stiffened. "You’re not actually my mother. Isn’t that what she said?"

Her mother smiled—a gentle, knowing smile. "You will always be my beautiful daughter, Nyra. Always. Whatever the circumstances of your birth, I carried you in my womb. I felt you kick and move. I held you in my arms the moment you were born. I raised you. I loved you." She reached out and touched Nyra’s hair. "Nothing can change that."

Nyra’s eyes filled with tears. "But I’m not... I’m not really yours."

"Blood doesn’t make a mother, my love. Love makes a mother. And I have loved you since the moment I knew you existed." She paused. "The goddess gave you to me as a gift. And I have been grateful every single day."

Nyra sat up slowly, turning to face her mother. "Did you know? About the goddess? About... everything?"

"Not at first. I knew you were different—the silver hair, the strange magic that seemed to surround you. But I didn’t understand until much later." She smiled sadly. "Your father knew. He figured it out when you were very young. That’s why he sealed your powers. Not because he was ashamed of you, but because he loved you. He wanted to protect you from the people who would use you."

"And Thorne? Did he know?"

"Thorne suspected. He was always perceptive. He knew you were special. He just didn’t know how special." Her mother’s voice softened. "He loved you more than anything in this world, Nyra. He would have done anything for you."

Nyra’s tears spilled over. "I miss him. I miss him so much."

"I know, darling. I miss him too." Her mother pulled her into an embrace. "But he’s still with you. In here." She pressed a hand to Nyra’s heart. "He’ll always be with you."

They sat together for a long time, mother and daughter, holding each other in the silver light. By the time Nyra finally pulled back, she felt lighter. Not healed—the wounds were still too fresh for that—but lighter.

"I love you, Mom," she whispered.

"I love you too, my beautiful girl."

Outside the door, the Moon Goddess stood frozen.

She had come to check on her daughter, to make sure she was resting. But the words she heard through the door stopped her cold. She swallowed hard, her hand trembling on the door handle.

She loves her, the goddess thought. She loves her the way I should have loved her. The way I couldn’t love her from so far away.

Her expression crumpled with grief. She turned away from the door and disappeared into the shadows of the palace.

Valeria’s suite was dim and quiet when Elias arrived.

He paused in the doorway, his dark eyes sweeping over her. She was standing by the window, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, a glass of wine in her hand. Their eyes met, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"It’s been a while," he said, stepping inside and locking the door behind him.

"Too long." She set down her wine and walked toward him, her hips swaying. "I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me."

"Never." He caught her waist and pulled her close. "I’ve just been... busy."

"So I’ve heard." She smiled up at him. "But you’re here now. That’s what matters."

They didn’t talk after that. Their clothes came off roughly, desperately, as if they were both trying to escape something. He lifted her and carried her to the bed, falling on top of her. The room filled with the sounds of their passion—her moans, his grunts, the creak of the bed frame.

In the midst of it all, Valeria asked, "How is everything going? The plan to free your father—is it still on track?"

Elias, too lost in pleasure to think clearly, nodded. "Everything is in motion. The guards have been bribed. The escape route is secure. Father will be free within the week."

Valeria’s eyes gleamed. She flipped him over, straddling him, and began to move. "What a beautiful plan," she purred. "You’re the brilliant one, aren’t you?"

Elias smiled and spanked her ass. She moaned, leaning down to kiss him. When she pulled back, he said, "I don’t understand Finn’s attitude these days. He’s been distant. Cold."

Valeria paused. "Finn? You know Finn?"

"He’s my brother. Half-brother. Different mothers, same father." Elias’s hands roamed her body. "It’s a secret, of course. Finn doesn’t associate with us much. He hates Father. Pretends he’s not one of us."

Valeria’s mind raced. Finn. The friendly, foolish Finn. He was Varek’s son. Another piece of the puzzle clicking into place.

"He’s probably just stressed," she said smoothly. "All the political upheaval. The investigation. It’s a lot for anyone to handle."

"Maybe." Elias pulled her down for another kiss. "But something’s off with him. I can’t put my finger on it."

They hit their climax together, both crying out. Valeria collapsed beside him, breathing hard. Her mind was still working, cataloguing everything he had said.

Such a fool, she thought. Spilling all his family secrets just because I moaned a little louder.

She smiled and rolled toward him. "Let’s go another round," she murmured. "I’ve missed your cock."

"Is that so?" Elias grinned and positioned her on all fours. "Your wish is my command."

The room filled with her moans once more.

Soren sat alone in his suite, staring at the wall.

The fire had burned low, casting long shadows across the room. Selene was out—with her friends, or so she claimed—and he had the space to think. To really think.

There were too many loopholes in the investigation. Too many unanswered questions. Draven was dead. Killian was missing. Varek was in prison, but the conspiracy clearly extended beyond him. Valeria’s words echoed in his mind: The truth is deeper than Varek alone. Much deeper.

She knows something, he thought. She’s been watching from the shadows this whole time. And she pointed me toward Selene.

Kael stirred. Do you trust her?

Valeria? I trust her to act in her own self-interest. She’ll tell the truth when it benefits her. And right now, she’s scared. Scared people talk.

And Selene?

Selene is lying. I can feel it. Every smile, every touch, every word—it’s all an act. His hands curled into fists. I just don’t know what she’s hiding. Or who she’s protecting.

He rose from his chair and began to pace. The investigation needed to change. The official inquiry was too public—too many people watching, too many chances for information to leak. He needed something smaller. Secret.

Corvin. Ragnar. Roderic, he thought. The four of us. No one else. Not yet.

There was a traitor among them. Someone in their wider circle was feeding information to the enemy. It could be anyone—a student, an instructor, one of the servants. But it wasn’t Corvin. It wasn’t Ragnar. It wasn’t Roderic. Of that, he was certain.

I’ll start the investigation myself, he decided. From inside the school. There has to be a trail. Something we missed.

He moved to his desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. He began to write, mapping out everything they knew—the connections, the suspects, the gaps in their knowledge. It was a mess, a tangled web of lies and half-truths. But somewhere in that web, the truth was hiding.

I’ll find it, he thought. Whatever it takes. I’ll find the person who killed Nyra. And I’ll make them pay.

Later that night, he would call the others. Corvin. Ragnar. Roderic. They would meet in secret and begin their own investigation—one that no one else would know about.

But for now, he sat alone in the darkness, the names of his enemies swirling in his mind.

Finn, Jasper, Marek, Lucian, Orion, Elias, Maureen, he thought suddenly, the names coming unbidden.

He shook his head. I don’t think they will, do that, I have to search deeper.

What if the betrayal is amongst them?, The thought slipped into his mind and didn’t go away.