Oona's Chambers – Nightfall
The candlelight flickered uneasily across the stone walls of Oona's chamber. A place once known for calm and quiet resolve now hummed with a dark restlessness.
Oona paced, her fingers twitching at her side, nails tapping against the empty goblet. Across from her stood Caroline, uneasy, breath shallow, head bowed in shame.
"Well?" Oona snapped, voice a whisper edged with venom. "Did you get it?"
Caroline shook her head.
"No. I was interrupted. Jamie was there… and Ann. They were watching. I think they suspect me."
A flash of fury danced in Oona's eyes, but she didn't shout. Not yet. She inhales, deep and sharp, like something inside her wants to tear loose.
"You were supposed to get that book, Caroline. No excuses. That book is everything."
Caroline's jaw tightened. "I couldn't risk exposing us. I—"
"I don't care what you couldn't risk!" Oona barked, stepping forward. "Find a way. You must get your hands on the Book of Nivorien. At all costs. Do you understand?"
Caroline nodded tightly, shame giving way to resolve.
Behind them, Lilith sat curled on the cushioned bench, watching her mother. There was something different about her tonight. Something jittery. Unstable. It wasn't like Oona to lose composure. But lately… lately it felt like she was unraveling, thread by thread.
"What do you need that book for anyway?" Lilith finally asked, her voice cutting through the silence like a whisper of steel.
Oona paused.
Then turned to her daughter slowly, something haunted flickering across her face.
"The Book of Nivorien isn't just some dusty relic," she said. "It's alive. It holds truths buried long before your time, Lilith. And within those truths… There is knowledge. Power. Secrets about Jamie. About what he is. About why he hasn't shifted fully yet. Something's different about him. And I intend to use that."
Lilith frowned, confusion deepening. "You want to help Jamie now?"
Oona's lips pressed into a thin line. "I want to survive. We need to survive. And if Jamie holds the key to tipping the scales against Maelin and that idiot son of his, then yes, I will use him."
Her voice softened for the first time all night.
"I'm trying to find a way out of this mess. For both of us." Her gaze flicked toward Caroline. "All three of us."
Lilith didn't respond right away. She only watched her mother with something between suspicion and concern.
Oona stepped closer, taking Lilith's hands in hers, eyes full of something too desperate to be tenderness.
"We will overcome this," she said. "We will take what is rightfully ours. I didn't remove your mating bond for nothing. I did it so that your path would remain unbound… so that when the time comes, you will still be able to claim what belongs to you—Andrew Jackson."
Oona's eyes glistened with cold purpose now.
"Our race must be preserved.
But only through their bloodline."
The candles fluttered violently.
And somewhere in the dark… fate listened.
******
Training Grounds – Jamie's POV
The clang of blades and barked commands filled the air.
Training had been in full swing all day, warriors sharpening themselves like blades against stone. We didn't know when the war would come, but we knew it would. And that was enough to keep every hand steady and every back straight.
I stood at the edge of the arena, watching them move—my people. Our people. Some were new. Others seasoned. But all of them are ready.
Andrew had been occupied, buried in council matters—meetings, alliances, plans with Elder Throne and the advisors. He was trying to rebuild a kingdom left broken by grief.
And I missed him. Gods, I missed him.
Maybe tonight, after the warrior assembly… I'd find a way for us to steal a quiet moment. Just one. The world could wait a few hours.
A gentle tug on my tunic snapped me out of thought.
"Your Grace?" a little voice said.
A boy, one of the pups from the northern quarters. Bright eyes, muddy boots. He needed help tying his gauntlet straps.
I crouched, smiling. "Of course, little soldier."
The people had grown warm to me. Over time, suspicion melted into faith. Now they call me Luna. Hope. And I swore to the gods, I would live up to it.
As I helped the boy, a familiar voice called out.
"Your Gracious!" Philip jogged toward me, breathless but smiling. One of the most trusted patrol heads—young, loyal, and sharp as a whip. Andrew and I both had come to rely on him.
"The warriors from Kaelmere have arrived," he said. "Laurette's pack."
I stood tall. "Good. Assemble them in the main hall. We'll greet them properly."
Philip nodded, about to turn—but I stopped him.
"Wait."
He looked back.
"Have you seen Caroline today?"
He hesitated. "No, not once. She missed morning headcount, too."
That confirmed it.
I nodded slowly, then leaned in slightly. "I want you to keep an eye on her. Quietly. If she moves, I want to know. Report only to me. Understand?"
Philip's jaw tightened in silent loyalty. "Understood."
As he left, I watched his figure fade into the shadows, my heart suddenly heavy.
Please… let me be wrong about her.
Because if Caroline was the mole…
It wouldn't just break the pack.
It would break Andrew.
I shook the thought away and turned toward the council hall. Laurette, her mate, Andrew, and the elders would be waiting.
Another piece of the war was in motion.
And every move now mattered.