The Cursed Alpha’s Mute Bride – Episode 15
Rain hammered the council chamber windows while Hunter gathered his most trusted warriors. A map of the borderlands covered the table, held flat by daggers at each corner. The theft of the Moonstone Amulet had transformed Gertrude’s threat into something larger than a dispute between packs. Whoever carried the relic might also hold the key to Wren’s curse and the legitimacy of the Eclipse throne.
Clay marked a route through the northern mountains. “Our scouts found the thieves’ trail beyond the old Wolfhart shrine. Three riders entered Black Fang Forest before dawn, but their scents vanished near the ravine.”
Hunter studied the map. Black Fang was unclaimed land, dense with caves and abandoned roads once used by smugglers. “Someone knew exactly where the amulet was hidden and how to break Aldric’s wards. They had help from inside Wolfhart Castle.”
Elder Matthias remained under guard in an adjoining room while his two companions returned with Hunter’s warning. Whether the Elder had exposed the will out of conscience or fear remained unclear. Hunter trusted only what the parchment proved.
“They are trying to erase every trace of Wren’s inheritance,” Clay said. “If the amulet disappears, Gertrude can challenge the will’s authority and keep the Eclipse council divided.”
“It will not disappear.” Hunter’s gaze moved from the forest route to the mountain passes. “They will not get far.”
Across the chamber, Wren examined a copy Mara had made of her father’s will. Aldric’s words echoed inside her with a voice memory had almost lost. Beloved daughter. She alone shall inherit.
For years, Wren believed she had been abandoned because something about her was unworthy of love. Now she understood the truth. Her father had fought to protect her, and someone else had stolen the future he prepared. Reclaiming it would not be greed; it would be an answer to every lie used to keep her powerless.
The knowledge did not restore those years, but it changed their meaning. Her life in the storage room had never been proof of her rightful place. It was evidence of how deeply Gertrude feared the woman she might become.
Wren’s fingers brushed the copied seal. Warmth spread across her palm, gentle at first, then bright enough to make her gasp without sound. The black crescent beneath her collarbone began to pulse.
Silver light shimmered along the edges of the curse mark. It traveled down her arm in delicate threads and gathered beneath her fingertips, illuminating the wolf-and-crescent emblem on the page.
Elara, who had been sorting medicines near the fire, dropped a glass vial onto the table. “The Moonstone is responding to her.”
Hunter reached Wren in two strides. “What does that mean?” He did not touch the glowing mark, but the mate bond opened around her like a shield.
“The amulet recognizes its rightful heir,” Elara whispered. Wonder softened the alarm on her face. “Distance cannot sever blood magic this old. Wren’s bloodline is calling to the Moonstone, and the stone is answering.”
The chamber vanished before Wren could react. Darkness rushed over her, not empty but filled with images sharper than memory. She stood within a vision that belonged to the relic.
Black mountains rose beneath a moonless sky. Towering pines surrounded an abandoned temple whose broken pillars disappeared into mist. A crescent carved above the entrance glowed with the same silver light beneath Wren’s skin.
The vision pulled her through ruined doors and down a passage lined with stone wolves. At its end, a hooded figure placed the Moonstone Amulet upon an ancient altar.
The white gem blazed. Darkness coiled around it from the figure’s hands, attempting to force the power inward. Beneath the altar, something vast seemed to awaken.
Then the chamber returned. Wren staggered backward, breath trapped behind her curse. Hunter caught her before she fell and drew her against his chest until the floor stopped tilting.
“What did you see?” he asked. Fear sharpened his voice—not fear of the magic, but for her.
