Chapter Seven
The Blood Moon's Warning
The palace didn't feel like home anymore.
It felt like a battlefield.
The attempted assassination had changed everything.
Where once I was tolerated as the "king's new amusement," now I was watched.
Whispered about.
Feared.
Guards trailed me wherever I went, their armor clanking against the stone floors.
The palace staff — once indifferent — now bowed too low, smiled too wide.
Fake.
Terrified.
Liam had become a shadow at my side.
Possessive. Protective.
More beast than man.
He wouldn't let me out of his sight for more than minutes at a time.
And when he looked at me… it wasn't just hunger anymore.
It was desperation.
As if he was terrified that if he blinked, I might vanish.
Tonight, under the cold glow of a rising blood moon, that fear would be tested.
⸻
The Great Hall was eerily silent as the court assembled.
Liam stood at the head of the throne room, draped in his black and crimson cloak, his golden hair loose around his shoulders like a lion about to strike.
I sat beside him, in a smaller chair carved from blackwood.
Every eye in the room burned into me — accusing, questioning.
The Council of Elders lined the long obsidian table.
Their ancient faces drawn tight with distrust.
At their center stood Ren, hands folded behind his back, head bowed in false humility.
Liam's voice cut through the stillness, a blade in the dark.
"There was a traitor among us," he said.
"An attempt on my mate's life."
The word mate echoed in the hall, shocking the courtiers.
Liam hadn't formally announced me as his yet.
Not publicly.
Until now.
A wave of murmuring broke over the court like a tide.
Isolde sat rigidly on the far end of the hall, her lovely face frozen into a mask of rage and disbelief.
Beside her, her hand drifted to her swollen belly protectively.
A visible reminder of the lie she was trying to weave — that her child was Liam's heir.
I shivered.
The stakes were higher than ever.
Liam's gaze pinned Ren like a spear.
"You were in charge of palace security," Liam said, his voice deadly calm. "Explain how two assassins slipped through the wards."
Ren bowed low, the very picture of loyalty.
"My King," he said smoothly, "it grieves me beyond words. I suspect dark magic is at play."
He lifted his head, green eyes gleaming.
"And I fear," he continued, voice soft as poisoned honey, "that the threat comes from within."
The court gasped.
Within?
Who?
My stomach twisted into knots.
Liam's hand closed over mine, anchoring me.
"You suggest," Liam said coldly, "that someone inside Silverwood conspired against my mate?"
"I do," Ren said, eyes sliding to me.
Subtle.
Deadly.
He was planting the seed of doubt.
If the prophecy spoke of a savior… and the people feared change… what easier way to destroy me than to make them believe I was the danger?
Liam rose slowly, towering over the assembly.
"I have chosen," he said, voice shaking the chandeliers, "to place my trust in her."
He pulled me to my feet, his hand warm and firm on my waist.
"You will respect my Luna, or you will leave Silverwood — in chains or in a coffin."
No one dared speak.
Not even Ren.
But the hatred — the fear — festered in the silence like rot under the floorboards.
⸻
That night, I couldn't sleep.
The blood moon rose high and full, staining the sky crimson.
I sat by the window, watching it with a heavy heart.
Somewhere out there, the answers waited.
Why had the assassins come for me?
Who had sent them?
Was I really the savior the prophecy spoke of… or just another pawn in someone else's cruel game?
A knock sounded at the door.
Before I could answer, Liam strode in.
He crossed the room in three steps and sank onto the edge of my bed.
"You're awake," he murmured.
I nodded.
He reached out, brushing a stray curl behind my ear.
"You're not safe here," he said, voice low. "Not even with me."
His words chilled me more than the night air.
"I don't want to run," I whispered.
"You might have no choice," he said.
He hesitated, then pulled something from the folds of his cloak.
A necklace.
Simple.
Silver chain.
And at its center — a small crystal, pulsing faintly with inner light.
"This was found in the ruins of the old temple," he said. "The priests believe it belonged to the original savior."
He fastened it around my neck, his fingers lingering at my nape.
As the crystal touched my skin—
Power surged through me.
White-hot.
Blinding.
I gasped, clutching the bedpost to steady myself.
Visions exploded behind my eyes—
Silverwood burning.
Wolves trapped in human form, screaming.
A girl with orange hair, standing alone against the darkness.
Me.
I collapsed into Liam's arms, shaking.
"What did you see?" he demanded.
I couldn't speak.
Only one thought burned through the haze of fear:
The curse was alive.
And it was coming for me.
⸻
Outside my window, unseen by either of us, Ren watched.
A shadow among the ivy.
A smile curled his lips as he turned away.
The time had come to tear Silverwood apart.
And it would begin with her.