Chapter 4
I didn't look back.
The temple doors closed behind me with a low, heavy groan—sealing off all the noise inside. And with it, eight years of my youth.
Toolbox in hand, I made my way down the stone steps one by one.
Holy Moon City was bustling today. Silver-white banners hung from every lamppost. Children darted through the streets clutching moon-rose stems. Shopfronts displayed wreaths of wedding flowers and jars of moon-wine.
Everyone was talking about tomorrow's ceremony.
Only now, I wasn't the bride anymore.
I walked through the crowds. Someone recognized me—a whisper, low and quick.
"Isn't that Elena?"
"I heard the bride's been changed."
"No way."
"The Alliance elders announced it themselves. You think they'd joke about something like that?"
The murmurs multiplied. I didn't stop. I didn't explain.
Because I'd just realized—explanations were the most useless thing in the world.
The people who believed you didn't need them. And the ones who didn't—they wouldn't believe you anyway.
Then a sharp voice cut through the noise.
"Elena."
I stopped.
It was Lady Maris, one of the noble matrons. She used to hold my hand and call me "our future Luna" at every gathering. Now she stood before me with nothing but pity in her eyes.
"Don't take it too hard," she sighed. "Vivian is carrying the pure-blood heir. The Alliance made this decision for the good of the whole pack."
Her gaze dropped to the toolbox in my arms.
"A woman's whole life is about belonging to an Alpha. Without one…" she paused, letting the silence do its work. "You're nothing."
The street went quiet.
No one refuted her. A few people even nodded along, as if this were simply the natural order of things.
I looked down at the box in my arms. Inside were the gravers I'd used for eight years, the design sketches covered in layers of revisions.
Suddenly, I felt tired.
Then—hoofbeats.
Not one. Not two. A full company of riders.
Everyone turned toward the intersection. A black wolf-banner appeared at the edge of the street, its silver wolf-head snapping in the wind.
Someone gasped.
"The North. The Wolf King is here."
Wolves scrambled to either side of the road. No one dared block the way.
Dozens of black-armored knights rode through the city in perfect, soundless formation.
At the rear, a black carriage pulled to a stop before the temple.
The door opened.
A tall man stepped out.
Black longcoat. Silver-grey hair that fell past his shoulders. No crests, no emblems, no ornaments to mark his rank.
But everyone knew—there was only one man on the continent who commanded a full escort of Northmen knights.
Wolf King Kael.
He didn't look at me. He didn't look at anyone. As if he were simply here for tomorrow's wedding, nothing more.
He started toward the temple.
And then Lady Maris laughed lightly, just loud enough to carry.
"Such a shame, isn't it? No matter how talented she is—without an Alpha, she'll always amount to nothing."
Kael's step faltered.
Only for an instant.
He didn't turn around. Didn't speak. Just angled his head slightly toward his adjutant and said, in a voice flat and unhurried.
"The North's Moon Priestess position. Still open?"
The adjutant bowed at once.
"Yes, my lord. It's been vacant for three years."
Kael nodded and continued walking.
After a few paces, he added, without looking back.
"Tell her."
The adjutant blinked. "Tell whom, my lord?"
Kael didn't stop. Didn't turn.
"The craftswoman," he said.
"The North has never lacked for Alphas. What we lack—"
"is someone who truly knows how to serve the Moon Goddess."
Then he walked straight into the temple, as if he'd just disposed of a routine piece of business.
The adjutant, however, stayed where he was. He turned to face me and inclined his head—formal, respectful.
"Lady Elena."
"That was the Wolf King's invitation. Whether you accept it—is entirely up to you."
He gave a short bow and took his leave.
The street slowly came back to life, but everyone stood frozen in place.
I watched them go. Then I looked down at the toolbox in my arms.
I am not nothing.
Before I was ever Rowan's Luna—
I was first, and above all, myself.
Elena.