Moonlit Vows Of Vengeance-Chapter 36: The Escape

Athena

The beast’s howl tore through the forest like a jagged blade, piercing the silence with a raw, agonized cry. Trees shivered. The earth seemed to tremble beneath our feet.

But we were already running as fast as we possible could in our wolf forms.

Branches whipped past my face, and the pounding of hooves echoed behind me—Lucas had broken into a sprint ahead of me, already veering toward the stables. My lungs burned, and the scent of the beast still clung to my skin like static, vibrating with something ancient. Power. Promise. Danger.

We didn’t speak. There was no need.

The mission had been accomplished. We had gotten what we came for. And we were no longer safe here.

We burst through a part of the estate just as the stablemaster looked up in alarm. I didn’t slow down at all instead I vaulted into the saddle, reins snapping in my hand. Lucas swung up onto his own horse just as mine kicked into motion.

"Don’t stop for anything," he barked. I didn’t plan to.

Behind us, the howl echoed again—closer this time, filled with pain and fury. I didn’t know if it was the beast’s mourning or a warning, but every hair on my neck stood on end.

We galloped through the outer gates, hooves hammering against the stone. Guards shouted behind us, but no one gave chase—not yet. Maybe they didn’t understand what had happened.

Maybe only Genrik did but I didn’t get any sight of him.

The sky broke open with wind, thick and heavy, as if the forest itself had sensed what was happening. The Kurd pulsed faintly against my chest beneath the fabric of my tunic, still warm, still resonating. I knew it wasn’t alive but it was not quite inert either.

Lucas glanced over at me as our horses thundered across the old roads that cut through the valley.

"Do you feel it too?"

I nodded. "It’s not just power. It also has a memory attached to it. And look! The air feels lighter and the trees less terrifying. It was likely the cause of those...."

His jaw clenched. "Then we made the right call. We couldn’t leave it in that thing." "No," I said softly. "But it’s not over."

He looked back, once, toward the trees. Toward Genrik’s estate. "We won’t be welcome again."

"Well, we were never really welcome. But he doesn’t have any proof to accuse us of theft so there’s nothing he can do to us."

The wind picked up again, and somewhere in the distance, I swore I could still hear the beast’s voice—not calling for the Kurd, but sending a final cry into the world. Maybe mourning the loss. Or maybe warning the others.

Either way, we didn’t look back. The king was waiting.

And we had what he sent us to retrieve.

The gates of the capital opened before us with a low groan of iron and wood. Though dusk bled across the sky, the guards stood straight and silent as they recognized us. Their gazes lingered on the dirt-smudged cloaks and the strain in our eyes, but no questions were asked.

"General Athena. Alpha Lucas." One of the gatekeepers bowed. "You’re back."

We simply nodded and continued riding through the familiar cobbled streets, past shuttered markets and lantern-lit windows. The kingdom was quieter than usual. It even felt tense, even.

Our horses thundered across the final courtyard to the palace, and stablehands ran to meet us, their eyes wide. We handed off the reins, and without a word, climbed the stone steps to the grand entrance.

Two guards flanked the throne hall doors, each holding a spear etched with the royal sigil. One stepped forward and pulled the doors open with a reverent nod.

"I shall announce your presence to the king right now." He didn’t take long before he made a gesture to us.

We entered.

The king sat down on the obsidian throne at the base of the dais, he didn’t wear any crown today. Neither did he put on his mantle. He had on the sharp cut of his dark coat and the silver clasp bearing the sigil of the Moon Goddess, a crescent surrounded by thorns.

He didn’t speak.

We moved across the cold floor, feets echoing in the silence.

When we stopped before him, I knelt and bowed my head. "Your Majesty." Lucas mirrored me.

The King’s voice was low and steady. "Rise." We did.

"You have it?" he asked, his gaze sharp as a blade.

Lucas reached into the satchel he’d carried pressed to his chest the entire journey, unwrapping it layer by layer. The final cloth fell away, revealing the fragment.

The Kurd.

A shard of moon-stone unlike anything else in this world. It pulsed dimly, almost reluctantly, as if aware of how far it had been pulled from its twisted resting place.

The King stood up then stepped forward and took it into his gloved hands. Even he paused for a moment.

For a long moment, no one spoke. The throne room seemed to hold its breath. Then he looked at us.

"This is the Kurd from the beast in genriks home?" he asked. "Yes," I said. "But it didn’t want to leave its host."

Lucas nodded grimly. "It’s because it was buried deep. The beast had bonded to it." The King’s jaw tightened. "How were you able to get it without killing the beast?"

"Well at first, we tried to weaken it but that didn’t work so ended up using...," I replied. "We used... deception. Bloodline scent. It thought we were kin to its master."

"But once we collected what we came for, it was almost as though it regained consciousness." Lucas exhaled. "It made a sound that would’ve woken the dead."

"We had to flee," I added. "We didn’t risk staying to see what might follow."

The king turned away slightly, lifting the fragment into the last sliver of light pouring through the high windows. The silver veins in the Kurd caught the glow, pulsing faintly.