Chapter 1 - Wound that Never Seemed to Heal

The quiet of Aphael’s chamber was heavy with sorrow, and as I stood behind Alrael, I could feel the weight of his grief pressing down on both of us. It wasn’t just about his father’s condition… there was a deeper ache, one that lingered in the silences between his words. I had seen that pain before in the rare moments when his guard was down, but here, at his father’s bedside, it was more palpable than ever.

Alrael stared at Aphael’s still form as his hand rested gently on his father’s arm. "You should be here," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I should be learning from you, preparing for the future. Not like this."

Aphael’s condition was a mystery to everyone. No amount of healing or care had been able to rouse him. The doctors and healers claimed it was linked to the old injury from his battle with Triton, but I wasn’t convinced. An injury like that wouldn’t cause someone to fall into a coma so long. There was something else at play... something darker.

I stood silently by the door, my mind running through the possibilities. Poison? Dark magic? Whatever it was, it wasn’t natural, and I feared it had roots deeper than anyone realized. Aphael had been strong and almost unstoppable — until the day he collapsed and blood poured from his mouth like a terrible omen. That was four years ago, but the memories were still fresh in my mind. Alrael had carried his father back to the palace himself and refused to believe that this could be the end. He had fought to keep the pack together, to maintain his role as alpha, while still searching for answers. But the guilt... the guilt weighed on him every day.

For a moment, the room felt suffocating. I wanted to say something and offer comfort, but the weight of his loss was too personal, too… deep. Alrael wasn’t just grieving his bedridden father; he was mourning the family he had lost — his mother, Felice, and his sister, Priscine.

It was a wound that never seemed to heal.

"They said we’d be safe," Alrael whispered, almost to himself. His eyes were distant, focused not on the present but on memories that haunted him. "We were in Moon Palace… Mother, Priscine, and me. You had gone to the Valley of Peak, leading the moonlight wolves in battle. They told us we were protected."

I clenched my fists, knowing what he was about to say. I had heard the story before, but each time it tore at my heart, the depth of his pain was so raw, so real.

"Three Rakshas were with us," Alrael continued, but his voice was now tight with restrained anger. "They were supposed to protect the palace. But it wasn’t enough." His jaw clenched, and I could see the struggle in his eyes — the battle between sorrow and fury. "The revolutionaries came… wolves we thought were our own. Moonlight wolves. They betrayed us. And with them… some of the palace guards turned on us, as if the bonds of our pack meant nothing."

His hand tightened around his father’s arm, his knuckles white. "They broke through the gates, slaughtered anyone in their way. Priscine… she was only a child. Mother fought them off as long as she could, but there were too many." His voice cracked, just for a moment, before he regained control. "I remember hiding… hearing them scream. I remember the blood... I couldn’t save them..."

He fell silent, staring at Aphael, as if willing his father to wake up and share in his rage, his grief. But there was no response. Aphael lay there, as still as ever.

"I was the only one left," Alrael whispered, the words almost lost to the quiet of the room. "The only one who survived."

My chest tightened as I watched him. I had known about the attack, about the deaths of his mother and sister, but hearing it in his voice and feeling the grief that had shaped him... it was unbearable. And yet, I could do nothing but stand there and just be a silent witness to his torment.

As he stood there, lost in his thoughts, I found myself watching him closely, studying the way his features softened when he spoke of his father, the flicker of pain when he mentioned his mother and sister. Alrael wasn’t just the Moon City's steadfast alpha. He was a man haunted by his past, by the ghosts of his family, and by the responsibilities he carried alone.

And I, in all my helplessness, could do nothing but watch.

Alrael’s gaze lingered on his father for a long moment, before he turned and made his way toward the window, staring out over Moon City. His silhouette was outlined by the soft glow of the moon, casting an ethereal light on his profile. I couldn’t help but admire his strength, both physically and emotionally, even though I could see the cracks forming beneath the surface. The weight of his grief, his guilt — it was suffocating him.

As he stared out over the city, I moved closer and my heart ached for him in ways I couldn’t express. His voice was quiet and barely above a whisper when he finally spoke again.

"I was so young, Crisel... so naive. I thought the Moon Palace was impenetrable, that no one would dare challenge the Alpha's family. But I was wrong. So, so wrong."

His words hung in the air, thick with sorrow and regret. I could see the memories flashing behind his eyes, the horrors he had witnessed. The uprising, the screams, the betrayal that had shattered his world.

"I should’ve been able to protect them," Alrael continued, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "My mother... my sister... they deserved better."

I stepped closer, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around him and shield him from the pain that was clearly tearing him apart. But I knew that wouldn’t help. Not now.

"You were just a child," I said gently, my voice barely steady. "There was nothing you could’ve done."

Alrael shook his head and the muscles in his jaw tensed. "I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t protect them. But I swear, Crisel, I’ll find out who orchestrated the attack. I’ll find out who betrayed us and make them pay."

The raw intensity in his voice made my heart race. Alrael wasn’t just speaking out of grief or anger — this was a vow. A promise he had likely made to himself a thousand times since that night. And it wasn’t just for vengeance. It was for closure, for redemption. For peace.

"I know you will," I whispered, even though the words felt inadequate. I wanted to say more and tell him that he wasn’t alone in his fight. That I was right there with him, that I always had been. But I bit my tongue. There were still too many secrets between us, too much that he didn’t know.

Alrael’s gaze shifted back to the moon, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Whoever they are, they’ve been hiding in the shadows for too long. But they can’t hide forever. Not from me."

There was a brief silence before he added, almost as an afterthought, "And then there’s her."

My heart skipped a beat. I knew exactly who he meant. His luna. The one he still believed was out there somewhere, waiting for him. The one he had searched for all these years.

He turned to face me, his expression softening, though his eyes remained clouded with uncertainty. "I’ve spent so much time searching for her... but what if she’s gone too? What if I never find her?"

The question hung heavily in the air, and I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of it settle in my chest. I wanted to scream that she wasn’t gone, that she was standing right in front of him, but I couldn’t. Not yet.

"You will find her," I said instead, forcing the words through the tightness in my throat. "She’s out there, Alpha. And when the time is right, she’ll come to you."

He studied me for a long moment, as if trying to find some hidden meaning in my words. But I kept my expression neutral, despite the storm raging inside me.

"Thank you, Crisel," he said quietly, his voice thick with gratitude. "You’ve always been there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

I smiled, though it was a bittersweet one. "You’ll never have to find out."

The air between us was thick with my unspoken emotions, with the things I could not say. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, faster than it should, and I knew that if I stayed too close for too long, those emotions would become impossible to ignore.

"I’ll leave you to have more conversation with your father," I said, stepping back toward the door and trying to regain my composure. "But if you need anything, Alpha... I’m here."

He gave a small nod, but his eyes were already back on his father and lost in his thoughts. I slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind me, and leaned against the wall as I exhaled a shaky breath.

He gave me a small nod and his eyes softened for just a moment before the familiar hardness returned. There was so much left unsaid between us, so many emotions tangled in the silence. But for now, I was content with this — being by his side, even if he didn’t know the full truth.

For now, that was enough.

***

Three days had passed since the quiet moment between Alrael and his father. However, the weight of that night still lingered in my mind, a constant presence beneath the surface. The Moon Palace was silent as I moved through its familiar halls with a tray of breakfast in hand. The scent of freshly baked bread and the tea I had prepared drifted through the air, though I doubted Alrael would have much of an appetite today.

As I rounded the corner toward Alrael's chambers, I nearly bumped into Ragnor. Standing tall and unyielding, he gave me a curt nod with his usual stoic expression in place.

"Crisel," he greeted me quietly. His deep voice reverberated in the stillness of the hallway. Though the rest of the pack knew him as Alrael’s personal guard, to me — and to the alpha — he was Dos, the second Raksha, always watchful and always prepared. He was far more skilled than the usual personal guard.

"Ragnor," I replied with a slight nod. Our exchange was brief, as it always was. There was an unspoken understanding between us that no need for formalities or lingering words when duty was at hand.

He stepped aside to allow me passage, and I continued to Alrael's door. I stopped outside his chambers and took a deep breath before knocking softly.

"Alpha," I called. "It’s time for breakfast. The village heads will be gathering soon."

The door creaked open a moment later that revealed an Alrael who was already dressed. His expression was focused yet distant, as if the weight of the day ahead was already pressing down on him.

"Thank you, Crisel," he said. His voice carried that same tone of quiet authority. He glanced at the tray and gave a small nod, though his mind was clearly elsewhere. "Set it on the table. I’ll eat before the meeting."

I did as he asked and set the tray down and adjusted the placement of the dishes with practiced precision. My fingers reached for the teapot to pour the tea when, unexpectedly, Alrael's hand touched it at the same time.

For a brief moment, our hands overlapped. The warmth of his skin sent a jolt through me. I froze, the weight of the moment settling in the space between us. Alrael hesitated too as his gaze shifted from the teapot to me with his eyes still unreadable.

“Allow me,” Alrael said quietly. His voice was gentle yet firm as he covered my hand with his. For a brief moment, our eyes met, and I could feel an unspoken tension. 

I hesitated, then nodded, and stepped back as I let him take over.

"You have a busy morning ahead," I reminded him gently, though I knew he didn’t need reminding. Alrael never forgot his responsibilities, but I had to do something to brush off the tensed atmosphere. 

"I haven’t forgotten," he murmured. His gaze flicked briefly toward the window, where Mount Piton loomed in the distance, its jagged peaks rising like a protective barrier around Moon City. The mountain stood at the heart of the island, surrounded by the four villages: Gibbous, Crescent, Quarter, and the hidden Lúa Nova.

Mount Piton was the pulse of moonlight wolves' lives. It was a sacred place that watched over everything and its very presence was woven into the legends of the moonlight wolves. And deep within its shadowed crags was Lúa Nova Village, the village known only to the alpha and a select few — myself included. The Rakshas were trained there, molded into protectors with a singular purpose: to guard the alpha family at all costs. We were the Rakshas.

Alrael caught my eye, and for a moment, it felt like he could see all the layers of myself  — the servant, the Raksha, the luna. His eyes softened for a fleeting second, but the moment passed quickly. He then hurriedly finished the meal I had prepared. Then, the alpha mask slipped back into place.

"You’ll be attending the meeting today with Dos," he said, his voice now practical. "Both of you, stay close. I don’t trust some of the village heads."

"Of course, Alpha," I replied, bowing my head slightly. Even though he knew the truth of who Ragnor and I were, the facade remained necessary. The Rakshas were not known to the general public, and my position as his servant and Ragnor's as a personal guard gave us a reason to always be near.

“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. With that, we head towards the door. As I opened it, Ragnor was already standing outside with his imposing figure that was always ready.

He nodded at us with his nonchalant expression, though there was a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. "Alpha, the heads are already gathered," he reported in a low, respectful tone.

"Good," Alrael replied, his voice measured. "Let’s not keep them waiting."

I moved to Alrael’s left side as Ragnor took position at his right. The three of us walked in silent unity toward the Great Hall. Together, we were an unbreakable force, though to those watching, we were simply an Alpha with his guard and a humble servant.

The meeting would be held in the Great Hall of the Moon Palace which was a place where matters of grave importance were discussed. It was a grand space, with high-arched windows that welcomed the moonlight, casting silver streaks across the stone floors. Alrael walked with purpose with his steps steady, while Ragnor and I kept a few paces behind him, as was expected. The walls echoed the sound of our footsteps, but my mind was already sharpening, slipping into the mindset of Uno, the Raksha.

As we entered the Great Hall, the village heads were already seated at the long stone table, waiting. Lutraine Fang, head of Gibbous Village, sat with his arms crossed. His rough and weathered face showed signs of impatience. His role in managing the soldiers and the military affairs of the Moon City was vital, but his temper could be as sharp as his fangs. Across from him sat Froilan Candor, the head of Crescent Village. His neatly trimmed beard and sharp eyes reflected the cunning nature that often simmered beneath his outward charm. Crescent Village was responsible for managing the Moon City's research and education. And to Froilan’s left was Silva Erudicent, the calm and collected head of Quarter Village. Her silver hair framed a face marked with quiet authority. Quarter Village was responsible for agriculture and construction. It had kept the city running, even in times of hardship. 

Alrael moved to his seat at the head of the table. Ragnor and I stationed ourselves behind him, though our presence was a mere shadow, as it should be.

The tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel the weight of the issues they were about to discuss hanging in the air. The drought had worsened this year, and famine had begun to creep into the lives of the moonlight wolves, with the pack relying heavily on Quarter Village for food. As the silence stretched, I could sense the urgency rippling through each of the village heads. Their eyes were glinting in the pale light.

"The Moon City is facing a severe shortage of food," Alrael began. His voice was calm but firm. "The drought this season is worse than any we’ve seen in years, and our farming efforts are yielding less than we need to survive the winter. We must act quickly before our people begin to starve."

Silva nodded. Her face betraying none of the pressure she must be feeling. "We’ve done what we can, Alpha, but the land isn’t giving us what it used to. We cannot produce what isn’t there."

"What do you propose, then?" Lutraine’s voice cut through the room like a growl. "We can’t simply wait for the crops to grow. The pack needs food now."

Alrael didn’t hesitate. "I've been thinking this for a while now. My verdict is... we will need to adapt. For now, I say the pack focuses on hunting in the forests since it is teeming with animals. If we shift our focus to hunting for the time being, we can supplement what’s left of the harvest. It’s a temporary measure, but it’s the best option we have at the moment."

There was a murmur of agreement around the table, though it wasn’t unanimous.

Alrael continued, "Lutraine, I’m asking for Gibbous Village to send soldiers to teach the wolves in Quarter Village the basics of hunting. They are not trained for it, but they need to learn."

Lutraine sat back with his arms crossed as he considered the request. "I’ll comply," he said slowly, though his tone was hesitant. "But Gibbous has its own issues. I can’t afford to send too many soldiers. We’ve got problems of our own that we’re dealing with."

Silva’s brow furrowed. "What issues?"

Lutraine’s jaw tightened, and he glanced briefly at Alrael before speaking. "There’s a vigilante in Gibbous," he admitted, his voice low but clear. "Calls himself Black Justice. He’s been targeting some of the gangs in the slums, stirring up trouble. And while the gangs aren’t saints, his interference is complicating matters."

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of my lips. Black Justice — it was a name that struck a personal chord. I knew exactly who that vigilante was, though the others in the room remained clueless. Alrael kept his face impassive, but I knew he had caught the flicker of amusement in my expression.

Froilan, on the other hand, chuckled dismissively. His fingers were drumming on the table in a display of condescension. "A vigilante?" he mocked as his voice dripped with sarcasm. "You’re telling me that Gibbous can’t handle one lone wolf running around playing hero in the streets? Surely, Lutraine, you’ve faced worse."

Lutraine bristled, the tension palpable. "It’s not as simple as you make it sound, Froilan. Black Justice isn’t just some fool running around. He’s elusive. He knows the streets better than we do. Every time our soldiers show up, he vanishes without a trace."

Froilan leaned back in his chair while a smirk played on his lips. "Elusive? Or perhaps it’s just that your soldiers are too slow and inept to catch a single wolf? You’d think after a few weeks of this, you’d have at least managed to corner him. But here we are, and all you have is an impressive list of excuses."

Lutraine’s eyes narrowed. "We’re doing our best! But capturing a vigilante isn’t easy. He seems to have no interest in fighting us — he just runs when he senses we’re nearby. It’s frustrating, I admit, but don’t pretend you could do better."

Froilan waved a dismissive hand. His laughter echoed through the hall. "Please, Lutraine, spare us the sob story. If I had a wolf on my tail causing trouble in my territory, I wouldn’t let him slip through my fingers. I’d be dragging him back to you in chains, all while you twiddle your thumbs wondering where it all went wrong."

"Enough, Froilan," Lutraine snapped as his composure was cracking. "It’s not as simple as you think. This Black Justice disappears the moment we send soldiers after him. He’s not interested in fighting us, only in causing havoc for the gangs. Every time we get close, he vanishes."

Froilan raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair with a smug grin. "It sounds like you’re just not trying hard enough. One wolf — outsmarting the mighty soldiers of Gibbous? Embarrassing, really."

Lutraine’s eyes narrowed. I could see that his patience was wearing think as his hands curled into fists on the table. "We’re doing everything we can. But if you think it’s so easy, perhaps you’d like to lend some of your Crescent researchers to help us track him down?"

Froilan smirked. "I’m sure we could. Though I doubt your soldiers would appreciate being shown up by a few scholars."

Alrael’s voice cut through the rising tension. "Enough," he said firmly as his gaze sweept the room. "This meeting is not the place for petty arguments. The vigilante issue will be addressed, but it’s not our most pressing concern. Let’s move on."

The table fell silent again, though Froilan shot a smug glance in Lutraine’s direction. Alrael ignored it and turned his attention to Froilan next.

"Crescent Village has its own concerns, doesn’t it, Froilan?" Alrael prompted. His tone was sharper now, as if daring Froilan to focus on more serious matters.

Froilan’s expression shifted, his smirk was fading as he leaned forward. "Indeed, Alpha," he said and adopted a more serious tone. "Highland bears have been wandering near Crescent Village. They’re becoming more aggressive, and there have already been a few attacks."

"Highland bears? It’s an unusual behavior for them. They normally keep to Pristine Lake at Highland Crate. But now they’re encroaching on our borders? How strange, indeed," Alrael uttered.

Silva, who had been listening intently, nodded in agreement. "Strange, indeed, however I have received similar reports in Quarter Village," she added. "Farmers have been seeing the bears wandering dangerously close to the farmlands. Sometimes they destroy crops, which, given the famine, is the last thing we need."

Her words sent a ripple of tension through the room. The bears’ behavior was indeed strange. Highland bears were powerful but neutral creatures. Them suddenly attacking the moonlight wolves of Crescent Village, and their presence near the Quarter Village were concerning.

Silva turned her attention back to Lutraine. "Given the danger posed by these bears, I’m requesting more soldiers from Gibbous Village to patrol the borders of Crescent and Quarter."

Lutraine’s brows furrowed. "I’ve already said we’re stretched thin."

"Surely the safety of the wolves is more important than hunting down a single vigilante," Silva countered. Her voice was calm but firm.

Froilan sneered. "We can handle the bears without Gibbous’ help. What we should be focusing on is capturing that vigilante before he does more harm than good. He’s already meddled enough."

Lutraine seconded Froilan’s dismissal of Silva’s request with his arms crossing over his chest as he added, "If Crescent doesn’t need our help, why should we bother?"

For the first time, Silva’s calm composure cracked and her eyes flashed with frustration. "You two are behaving like children," she snapped. Her voice was cold. "The safety of the wolves in Crescent and Quarter is at stake, and all you care about is some vigilante running loose. We should be thinking rationally, not indulging in personal squabbles."

Lutraine and Froilan was about to open their mouths and retaliate, but Alrael stood and his presence instantly silenced the room. His voice was commanding, yet calm. "Enough."

His tone left no room for argument. "Silva is right. The issue of the bears is a threat to our people. This is my command, Lutraine, send most of the soldiers to Crescent and Quarter Village. The vigilante issue is not urgent — so, send a few but skilled soldiers to handle it discreetly. Our priority must be the safety of our wolves."

There was a moment of silence, and I could feel the tension in the air slowly begin to dissipate. Both Lutraine and Froilan grumbled in quiet agreement, though it was clear they were not pleased.

"Meeting adjourned," Alrael declared, and with that, the village heads slowly began to file out of the hall. I remained in the shadows and watched them leave. 

Alrael had handled the situation well. 

***

The shortage of food in Moon City had been gnawing at me for days. It was really worse than usual this year. Every report of scarcity from the Quarter Village only deepened my concern. There was a deeper instinct that tugged at my core, an urge that came from a place of unspoken responsibility. The luna within me — though hidden — longed to do something, to ease the burden on our pack, even if it was in secret.

For the past week, I had shifted my training into a different purpose. Instead of honing my combat skills in the confines of the Moon Palace, I had been hunting in the forests, seeking out game to help alleviate the hunger plaguing our people. Each animal I caught; I discreetly delivered them to the Quarter Village under the cover of night. It wasn’t much, but every little bit helped, and if my actions brought some relief to even one family, it was worth it.

The moonlight bathed the forest in a soft, ethereal glow as I moved silently through the trees. Hunting under the moon’s gaze always felt natural to me, as if the moon itself guided my every move. I could feel the power of its light in my every step, the way my senses sharpened, and my movements became almost fluid. Yet, as soon as I felt the full strength of the moon surging through me, the sunstone around my neck would pulse, and that energy would fade. The sunstone Aphael had given me so many years ago still served its purpose, keeping my true identity as a luna concealed even from myself.

I caught a glimpse of movement up ahead. Immediately, my instincts kicked in, and within seconds, I had cornered my prey — a swift deer grazing near the trees. My eyes narrowed as I calculated the distance, the wind direction, and the perfect angle to strike. I leaped forward, swift and silent, and in one swift motion, the hunt was over.

I hunted for a dozen more deer before I decided to end my hunt. I carefully bundled the meat and prepared it for another delivery to Quarter Village. Then, I set off back toward the Moon Palace, where my duty as a Raksha, Uno, still waited.

By the time I returned, it was almost midnight. The palace was quiet, but not entirely still. I was on my way to Alrael’s chamber, but as I passed through the balcony, I stopped in my tracks, sensing something. I peered through the shadows and there I saw Alrael and Giana Candor, standing together, framed by the moonlight.

Giana was leaning toward Alrael as her hand was lightly brushing his arm. Her every movement was graceful and deliberate. She was beautiful, with her blonde hair catching the soft glow of the moon, and her presence had a calming effect on most. But not on me.

Alrael stood beside her, but I can see how stiff his posture was and his expression was blank. I knew that look well. He wasn’t truly interested in her advances, not in the way she hoped. And yet, he entertained her — because he had to. The village heads had arranged their engagement two years ago. He was 22 now, an age where an alpha was expected to have found his luna and continued the alpha lineage. Yet, even now, Alrael hadn’t found his luna.

Because that was me. And the luna in me was being suppressed by the sunstone I wore.

But I knew that Alrael still believed his luna was out there, waiting to be found. He told me as much in the few moments we had alone. But the village heads? They had already concluded that his luna was dead. And so, they had pushed Giana forward, a reowned genius from Crescent Village, who had astronomical contributions in the field of potions and medicine of Moon City. The match made sense on paper, but it left a hollow space in my heart.

“Alrael, you must know I would be the perfect wife for you,” Giana exclaimed.

Alrael replied using a tone that was measured and cool, “You are a lovely woman, Giana, and I appreciate your kindness, but—”

“But what?” she interrupted. She tilted her head with an alluring smile. “You don’t seem excited about our future together. Shouldn’t you be looking forward to it?”

He sighed, tension was evident in his shoulders. “I’m grateful for the engagement, truly. But my heart… it remains elsewhere.”

“You’re still waiting for your luna, aren’t you?” Giana asked as her smile turned bitter. And Alrael couldn’t muster a single word.

"But, Alrael, this has to happen. You know that," Giana said softly. "We should announce the date for the wedding soon. The village heads are growing impatient."

He sighed again but offered her a small, polite smile. “Soon,” was all he said.

I clenched my fists as I watched from the shadows. I knew this was just the way of things, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear. Alrael wasn’t just the Alpha of Moon City to me. He was... everything. And yet, here I was, hiding in the dark while Giana stood by his side, trying to claim the place that should have been mine.

But for now, my place was here, in the shadows, waiting.