Chapter 5 “Shadows Beneath Silver”

Sleep refused to come.

Even after Kael’s words faded into the crackle of the dying fire, they kept echoing inside me — You have a healer’s hands, but a wolf’s heart. What did that even mean?

I stared at the ceiling until dawn crept in through the drapes, turning the silver threads to liquid light. My chest still thrummed with that strange, restless pulse — his heartbeat, somewhere deep within me, matching my own.

When the palace stirred awake, I rose. A tray of food had been left by the door — untouched. I couldn’t eat, not with questions clawing at me. The guards outside my room hadn’t changed all night; I could hear the low scrape of their armor whenever they shifted. But I’d always been quiet when I needed to be.

And curious. Too curious.

I pressed my ear to the door — silence, save for the muffled sound of the hall. Then I moved to the window. It overlooked a courtyard veined with marble paths and silver-leafed trees, their leaves whispering softly in the early breeze.

No bars. No runes. Just a ledge.

I hesitated — then climbed.

The stone was cold under my hands, but the wind smelled sweet and clean, alive with the scent of pine. When I dropped into the courtyard below, the impact barely jarred me. For a moment I stared at my palms. My reflexes were… sharper. Too sharp.

I shook the thought away and began to move.

The palace was larger than I’d imagined from my window — an endless labyrinth of halls, gardens, and towers, each one humming faintly with ancient magic. Wolves prowled freely, brushing past courtiers who barely noticed them. Everything gleamed — polished, perfect, alive.

But beneath the beauty, something darker lingered. A hum I could feel, not hear.

I followed a narrow corridor lined with statues until it opened into a vast library. Shelves rose higher than I could see, filled with scrolls and books that smelled of dust and moonlight.

“Lost?”

I spun around.

A man stood between two shelves, holding a stack of books in his arms. He looked human — or close to it — with dark hair, keen gray eyes, and a scholar’s calm air. His clothing was simple compared to the others I’d seen, though a faint silver ring circled his wrist.

“I—yes,” I said quickly. “I wasn’t sure where I was allowed to go.”

He studied me for a moment, then smiled faintly. “Nowhere, if you ask the Queen. But the library’s wards don’t recognize human scents, so you’re safe here.”

I blinked. “You know what I am?”

“I know who you are,” he said, setting the books down. “The healer from beyond the border. The one who carries the Blood Moon mark.”

“Then you also know I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

His smile softened. “Few ever do. My name is Rowan — royal archivist. And you, I imagine, have questions.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Rowan motioned for me to follow. He led me to a quiet alcove where moonlight streamed through a stained-glass window, painting silver wolves across the floor. He drew a scroll from the shelves and unrolled it.

“This,” he said, “is the first recorded Blood Moon bond — centuries ago. It formed between a Silverfang warrior and a priestess of the old gods. Their hearts beat as one, their power shared. But when the bond turned to love, the gods grew jealous. The warrior was cursed, and the priestess was burned for witchcraft.”

I swallowed hard. “So it’s dangerous.”

“Very,” Rowan said simply. “To both of you.”

I sank into a nearby chair, my mind spinning. “Kael didn’t seem afraid.”

“He’s his mother’s son,” Rowan replied. “Stubborn. Proud. But make no mistake — Queen Morwen sees you as both a weapon and a weakness. She’ll want to understand the bond… and control it.”

I looked at him sharply. “Control it how?”

“She believes the Blood Moon can be harnessed — that your connection could strengthen the throne’s power. But if she can’t control it…” Rowan’s voice trailed off, his gaze turning grim. “She may decide to end it.”

Cold washed through me. “By killing me.”

He didn’t answer.

A door creaked somewhere in the distance. Rowan straightened instantly, his expression changing. “You should go,” he said quickly. “Back to your room before—”

Too late.

The library doors opened, and Prince Kael stepped inside. He looked tired — dark circles beneath his eyes — but his presence filled the room like the pull of gravity. His gaze found me immediately.

“Of course,” he said dryly. “I should have known you wouldn’t stay put.”

My heart leapt. “I was just—”

“Exploring,” Rowan supplied smoothly, bowing slightly. “I was keeping her from getting lost, Your Highness.”

Kael’s golden eyes flicked to him, unreadable. “You’re dismissed.”

Rowan inclined his head, but as he passed me, he murmured so low only I could hear: “Be careful. The walls here have sharper ears than teeth.”

Then he was gone.

Kael didn’t move for a moment. Then he crossed the room, his steps quiet on the marble. “You could have been caught,” he said. “Do you realize what would happen if the guards found you wandering without escort?”

“I’m not your prisoner,” I snapped, though my voice shook.

He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. “No,” he said softly. “But you’re tied to me. And this realm doesn’t forgive what it fears.”

I stared up at him. “You mean your mother doesn’t.”

Something flickered in his eyes — not anger, exactly. Pain. “My mother believes power is the only way to keep our kind alive. She’s not wrong… but she’s forgotten what mercy feels like.”

His voice had softened by the end, almost too much. The pull between us stirred again, strong enough to steal my breath.

I turned away before it could show. “Rowan told me about the first bond. It ended in blood.”

“I know the story,” Kael said. “Which is why I intend to make sure ours doesn’t.”

I looked back at him, heart pounding. “And how do you plan to do that?”

He met my gaze, steady and sure. “By keeping you alive. Whatever it takes.”

There was no arrogance in his voice — only quiet conviction.

For the first time since I’d stepped into this world, I believed him.