Chapter Eight
O
Chapter Eight?
The moment my eyes met hers, time cracked open.
High Luna Vivienne stood at the dais, flanked by silver–robed elders and Stormveil warriors whose jaws clenched as if bracing for an unspoken truth. Her presence commanded reverence, yet her expression flickered–just for a breath–with something that shattered me.
Recognition.
I hadn’t seen her in over eight years, yet her scent hit me like a forgotten lullaby–juniper and honeysuckle. The same fragrance that used to cling to her robes when she tucked me in at night, long before betrayal and blood tore everything apart.
“Aunt…” The word was barely audible, a dry whisper caught in my throat.”
Vivienne took a single step forward. Her silver circlet glinted beneath the torchlight, and her lips parted as if to speak–but nothing came out. The silence stretched like taut thread, ready to snap.
From the corner of my eye, I caught the flicker of movement–Damian. He stood several feet behind the inner ring of court nobles, arms crossed, expression unreadable, yet his brows knit together in a way I hadn’t seen before. Calculating. Uneasy.
He didn’t speak, but he was watching. Watching me.”
Memories surged without mercy.
I was six, tugging on her sleeves, pleading for another mooncake–honeyed and warm, the way only she made them. I was ten, hiding behind her flowing cloak during my father’s war council, her fingers sneaking me sweetroot to keep me quiet. I was twelve, clinging to her as they lowered my mother’s body into the ground, her tears mixing with mine, whispered promises filling the emptiness: You still have me, little one. Always.
And then… nothing. No letters. No search. No rescue. Only silence.}
Because I had disappeared. Because she was told I was dead.
Because she had no idea that her brother–my father–had cast me out.”
The cold stone floor beneath my knees grounded me. Ayla stirred at my side, shifting her weight and letting out a soft whimper. 1 steadied her with one hand, the other still clenched in my cloak.}
I didn’t dare look away from Vivienne. Not now. Not when she was seeing me–not the ghost of a disgraced princess, not the wandering she–wolf who returned with a child and secrets–but me.}
Vivienne’s lips trembled. “It… can’t be…”
Her voice cracked on the final word.
Gasps rippled across the court. The Stormveil nobility–the very ones who moments ago had looked at me with suspicion or disgust- now looked uncertain. Eyes darted between Vivienne and me. Someone whispered, “She called her Aunt.“}
Damian shifted again, and this time I felt his gaze sharper. He didn’t understand–but something about this moment unsettled him. I could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the slight narrowing of his eyes. As if he were missing a piece of a puzzle no one had told him
existed.
Vivienne descended the steps, slow at first, then faster–each footfall echoing with barely contained urgency.}
I braced myself. For rejection. For punishment. For denial.
But instead, arms enveloped me.}
The High Luna–my aunt–dropped to her knees before me and crushed me into a trembling embrace. Her body shook with sobs as she buried her face into my hair.
“My stars… it’s you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s really you…“}
My arms hovered in the air, paralyzed by disbelief, until instinct–deeper than pain, older than fear–took over. I clung to her. My aunt. My second mother. The only person who had ever made Stormveil feel like home.
She pulled back just enough to look at me, hands framing my face, searching every inch like she couldn’t believe I was real. Her tears left glistening trails down her cheeks.}
“But how?” Her gaze dropped to Ayla. “Who-?”
“There’s so much to explain,” I said softly. “But… yes. It’s me, Aunt Vivienne.”
Her eyes searched mine, desperate, waiting for some justification.
“I didn’t survive or escape some attack,” I continued, my voice clear. “I made a choice. I chose to leave. I chose Damien.“@
Gasps echoed like thunder in the chamber.”
“I rejected my title, my name, everything I was born to… for him. And for that, Father disowned me. I didn’t run out of fear. I stayed away out of shame.“%
Vivienne’s hands dropped from my face as the name sank in.”
“Damien..” she breathed, pain laced in her tone.
A low murmur moved through the court, disbelieving and stunned.”
And Damian–he tensed. I didn’t look at him directly, but I felt the shift. The sharp inhale. The clenched fists. His confusion deepened, and
I knew he hadn’t known. Not the truth. Not even close.
He thought I was just a rich child. A merchant’s daughter. He never once guessed that the woman he cast aside had once knelt in this very
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court as Alpha Luna along with her parents.
“I told him I was the daughter of a gold merchant from a distant territory,” I continued. “I hid my name, at first out of fear of what father would do… everything. I didn’t want Ayla caught in the crossfire, because I was sure that loving Damien was the right thing to do. I didn’t want her to grow up as the stain on my legacy. I wanted her to be free.“}]
A tense silence fell. The nobles and advisors no longer looked amused or dismissive. Confusion. Guilt. Disbelief. It was etched into their faces–worn like armor they no longer knew how to carry.
One elder bowed his head. Another turned away, shame deepening the creases on his brow. Some looked around, as if searching for Alpha Garrick–who was not present–as though hoping he might still explain it all away.”
Vivienne’s shoulders trembled. She clutched my hand again, her tears still falling freely. Her gaze moved from my face to Ayla’s, lips parting like she wanted to say more–but her voice came out in a breathless, reverent whisper.
“Selene… it’s truly you.“}
And the court erupted in whispers.
