Calder’s attendant stepped inside, expression composed. “Luna Lunessa,” he said evenly, “the separation pact has been drafted.”
He continued, “Master Calder wished to deliver it himself, but he was summoned to another territory. He asked me to remind you—you have five days. If you secure Alpha Draven’s mark within that time, he’ll handle the rest. You’ll have a way out.”
My gaze was empty. Lifeless. I took the parchments and clutched them to my chest.
During the following days, while waiting for the pact’s progress, I quietly arranged for my father and grandmother to be transferred to healing dens outside the kingdom.
But Myrielle kept them under tight watch, refusing any relocation—she wanted control.
Three days later would be her birthday gathering. My one chance.
“Lunessa, you will attend Myrielle’s celebration.
Draven’s tone was cold, commanding. “Your father’s recovery depends entirely on her. At the gathering, you will declare that your grandmother’s Moon-healing was done with your consent.”
He added, voice like ice, “Your father’s outburst at the Hall has already embarrassed the Blackspire name. Myrielle suffered humiliation because of you. You will correct it.”