Moonlit Vows Of Vengeance

Chapter 111: The Cost Of Silence

I woke to the grey hush of dawn creeping in through the torn silk curtains. Kieran was still asleep beside me, one arm draped across my waist, his body curved protectively around mine. But I couldn’t feel peace. Not entirely.

The ache of last night lingered not just the physical, but the emotional unraveling that had brought us here. I’d surrendered in that moment not because I was whole, but because I was breaking, and he was the only thing holding me together.

And now?

Now I was awake, and the pain returned like a tide.

I slipped carefully from the bed, his arm falling to the mattress. I wrapped a soft robe around myself and padded barefoot across the cool stone floor to the balcony. Morning mist blanketed the ruined courtyard below.

Could I be rebuilt?

I gripped the railing, the wind tangling my hair. Shame clawed up my throat before I could swallow it.

"I shouldn’t have done this," I whispered to myself.

"You didn’t force yourself on me, you know."

I froze.

Kieran’s voice was quiet, rough from sleep, his bare chest lit faintly by the pale morning light. His eyes held no accusation—just understanding.

"I know," I murmured. "But I wasn’t thinking clearly. And I still feel like I—"

"Cheated?" he offered gently.

I didn’t answer.

He walked toward me slowly, barefoot on stone. "Athena... you gave yourself to me. And I gave myself to you. Not as a Moon Goddess. Not as a commander. As a woman and a man who needed something real."

"But it doesn’t erase anything," I said, voice cracking. "It’s all still there."

"Yes," he said, stopping beside me. "And so are you."

I turned my face away, ashamed of the tears welling again.

He reached out and gently brushed his fingers against mine.

And I didn’t argue. Because deep beneath the exhaustion, somewhere in the broken places, I did want that.

Then a sound caught both our attention—a low, metallic hum, faint but rising.

We turned.

A soft glow was pulsing from the far corner of the chamber, near the old ceremonial mirror that had been shattered during the siege. But now... it was whole.

Or... restored.

The glass shimmered with moonlight, though there was no moon outside.

I stepped forward, breath caught in my throat. "Do you see that?"

Kieran nodded, already reaching for his blade out of instinct. "What is it?"

"I don’t know. But it’s not... normal." I moved toward the mirror slowly. The glow intensified.

And then a voice—whispering.

Not from the mirror.

From inside me.

A divine voice.

"You can still reclaim it... but not without cost."

My knees buckled.

Kieran rushed forward, catching me just before I hit the ground. The voice was gone. The glow vanished. The mirror shattered again.

I clutched his tunic, breathing hard. "Did you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"I think... It was a god."

Kieran’s face darkened. "What did he say?"

I shook my head. "Not enough."

But I knew one thing: the war was far from over.

I then sat at the edge of the bed, my hands still trembling. Kieran hovered nearby, pacing like a caged beast.

His words wouldn’t stop echoing.

"You can still reclaim it... but not without cost."

What is the cost? What else did I have left to give?

"Kieran," I said, my voice rough. "Summon the old records. Anything we have left from the Temple of Moons. I want every scroll, every scrap of divine prophecy we recovered."

He paused. "You think this... message was part of a prophecy?"

"No," I said, dragging my fingers through my tangled hair. "I think it’s a trap disguised as a choice. But either way, I need to know what I’m walking into."

Before he could answer, a loud knock echoed through the chamber.

Kieran answered the door quickly. A guard stood there, visibly uneasy.

"Sire—My Lady," he corrected, bowing to me. "You’re needed. There’s been... a disturbance. A gathering at the southern edge of the palace grounds."

I stood. "An attack?"

The guard swallowed. "No, my lady. The noble houses. A number of them have gathered outside the Great Hall. They demand... they demand an audience."

Kieran’s jaw locked. "They chose now to challenge her?"

"No," I said sharply, already reaching for my robe. "They’ve been waiting for this moment. They must’ve heard about the ritual. The Wolfstone’s silence."

The silence that confirmed to everyone that I had no power left.

I had tried to keep it hidden, but nothing stayed secret in a kingdom like this—not for long. And those who didn’t love me were sharpening their teeth.

"Let’s go," I said.

The southern steps were packed.

Lords and minor nobles from every surviving province stood in tight clusters, their ceremonial black cloaks stirring in the wind. These were not the wolves who had fought in the trenches, not the ones who’d bled rebuilding walls. These were the old bloodlines—those who survived by clinging to influence, and wielding legacy like a blade.

The moment I appeared, a wave of tense silence fell.

Lord Garren, the one with the scar across his jaw, stepped forward. "Lady Athena," he said, voice too polite to be honest. "We come in unity. In concern."

"Speak plainly," I said.

His gaze flicked to the others, then back to me. "We all know what the ritual revealed. The Wolfstone rejected your offering."

"It was silent," I said. "That’s not the same."

"You hold no wolf within you," another lord said, stepping forward. "We felt it when you passed us. Your scent... it’s hollow."

Murmurs broke out. One or two even nodded.

"She’s still the one who ended the King that almost destroyed our race," Kieran snapped from behind me.

"I’m not here to justify what I’ve already done," I said coldly. "But go on. Say what you came to say."

Lord Garren didn’t flinch. "We believe... until the Goddess’s power returns, until your powers are proven again, it is best if someone else—someone whose wolf still answers the moon—takes the throne’s burden."

My laugh was bitter and sharp.

"You want me to step down. Hand over everything while the ash is still settling."

"No one’s asking you to vanish," Garren said. "Only to allow a council to oversee decisions until—"

"No," Kieran growled. "Absolutely not."

"I am not afraid of shared power," I cut in. "But don’t pretend this is about helping me. You’ve waited for this. You think my weakness makes me easy to replace."

"If you are truly divine," another noble said quietly, "then why should your power disappear?"

That question pierced deeper than I expected.

Because I didn’t have the answer.

I stared them all down, one by one. "Fine," I said. "Gather your council. Decide how far you’re willing to stretch your loyalty.

They bowed. Reluctantly. Formally. Then began to disperse.

When they were gone, I let my body slump. Just for a breath.

"I won’t let them take it," Kieran said beside me.

"You won’t have to," I whispered. "Because I’m taking it back myself. I just... I need time."

He didn’t speak. He just offered his arm. I took it.

We walked back through the halls in silence. My crown still sat on its pedestal, untouched, glowing faintly.

I didn’t pick it up.

That night, I stood alone at the window, watching torchlight flicker along the rebuilt walls. Kieran stood near the doorway, waiting.

"Go," I said softly. "I need time."

He hesitated, but then nodded. "Call for me if you need anything."

The door clicked shut behind him.

I pressed my forehead to the cold stone.

"I need you to come back," I whispered—to myself, to my power, to the gods, I wasn’t sure.

"You can still reclaim it... but not without cost."

That was the God’s promise. Or warning. noveldrama

And I was running out of time.

The moon hung high above the ruined kingdom, casting long silver beams through the broken arches of my chamber. I stood by the window, arms folded tightly across my chest, watching the wind bend the scorched trees that framed the crumbled palace wall. Down below, the great courtyard lay in eerie stillness, emptied of workers, guards, and healers. Even the ever-busy wolves had finally succumbed to sleep. But not me.

And the nobles... they didn’t even try to hide their disdain. I could still see their eyes — filled with judgment, doubt, hunger. They were waiting for me to fall. Some of them were probably already plotting it.

I exhaled slowly and pressed my palm against the window frame.

Kieran had asked me earlier if I needed more guards posted. I told him no.

Maybe I was arrogant. Maybe I just wanted the silence.

But now...

The silence felt wrong.

Not a single footstep echoed in the corridor. Not even the soft shuffle of a patrolling sentry or the mutter of distant voices.

My skin prickled. A chill brushed the back of my neck.

The balcony doors had been closed moments ago. Now they hung open.