His Abandoned Luna Chapter 203

|| Lilac’s POV ||

The forest smelled wrong.

Not the usual crisp pine and loam of the Nightshade woodlands— this air hung thick with the cloying sweetness of moonbloom and something darker beneath it, like rotting petals left too long in water. My boots sank into the damp earth as I stepped into the clearing, each footprint filling immediately with silver-tinged water that reflected the fractured moonlight above.

This is a place of endings.

The thought came unbidden, sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the chill. My fingers tightened around the velvet pouch in my palm, the lock of Alaric’s hair inside suddenly feeling like a betrayal rather than a sacrifice. I’d taken it while he slept, my hand trembling as I’d lifted the silver scissors from my dressing table. He’d stirred but hadn’t woken— his face relaxed in a way it so rarely was these days, the crease between his brows smoothed away. For a heartbeat, I’d almost put the scissors down.

Then Aurora had whimpered in her nursery down the hall, the sound carrying through the stone corridors like a ghost of the cries that had been waking us nightly.

The glowing. The silver eyes. The whispers.

Now, standing in this unnatural clearing, the pouch burned against my skin like a living thing. Across from me, Endora waited at the center of a ring of blackened mushrooms, her silver-threaded robes blending with the mist rising from the ground. In the moonlight, her eyes shone with an otherworldly sheen—too bright, too knowing.

“You came.” Her voice was different here— deeper, layered with echoes that shouldn’t exist.

I forced my chin up. “You said there was a way.”

“A way, yes. A price, always.” She extended a hand, and the mist coiled around her fingers like a living thing. “Do you have it?”

The pouch nearly stuck to my damp palm as I held it out.

“Will this truly...” My throat closed around the words. “Will it stop whatever’s happening to Aurora?”

Endora’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The magic seeks the bond between you and your mate. Sever that tether, and the beacon in your daughter may fade.”

May. Not will.

A gust of wind ripped through the clearing, carrying with it the scent of lightning and something metallic. My wolf, Runa, stirred uneasily beneath my skin.

‘Lilac.’ Her voice in my mind was sharper than usual, edged with warning. ‘Do you feel that?’

I didn’t answer aloud. Couldn’t. Because suddenly I did feel it— the way the air pressed against my skin like a physical weight, the way Endora’s shadow stretched too long behind her, twisting in ways shadows shouldn’t move.

‘This is...’ Runa trailed off, her unease mirroring my own.

‘I know.’ My fingers found the mating mark at my neck without thought, the raised scars still sensitive after all this time. ‘But we have no choice.’

‘You’ll be vulnerable,’ Runa warned. ‘The bond protects you as much as it ties you.’

‘We talked about it. Do what you have to do. I can handle it,’ I said.

'Fine. But I will take over if I sniff any funny business,' Runa warned.

'I survived without you for months. I think I can handle this,' I chuckled.

'Still...' Runa still was unsure but I were. I trustedmy wolf, I trusted myself and I trusted my mate. He would search me out if I got lost.

Before I could respond, Endora spoke again, her voice cutting through the unnatural silence.

“Think of it clearly in your mind.” She pressed her palms together, and the blackened mushrooms at her feet began to pulse with a sickly violet light. “The memory of when he marked you.”

The coronation day flashed behind my eyes unbidden— the crush of the crowd in the great hall, the weight of the ceremonial robes, the way Alaric’s storm-gray eyes had held mine as he’d stepped down from the throne. The gasps when he’d pulled me to him on the first dance. The searing pain-pleasure of his teeth at my neck as the entire kingdom watched. The way my blood had dripped onto his royal sigil, binding us before gods and wolves alike.

“Give it to me,” Endora demanded.

My mouth went dry. “How?”

The mist thickened around us, tendrils snaking toward my ankles. “Speak it aloud. Relive it. Then...” Her eyes gleamed. “Let it go.”

For a heartbeat, I hesitated. This memory wasn’t just mine— it was Alaric’s too. Our first true joining after months of stolen touches and hidden promises. The moment he’d claimed me as his before the entire kingdom. To give it up felt like carving out a piece of my soul.

Then I heard it— faint but unmistakable— Aurora’s cry carried on the wind from miles away. But how? She was way far! My daughter. My heart.

“The evening of Alaric’s coronation...” The words tore from me like splintered wood. I described it all—the way his hands had trembled against my waist despite his alpha bearing, the scent of his fear and longing mixing with mine, the exact shade of gold the torches had cast across his cheekbones when he’d finally sunk his teeth into my flesh.

As I spoke, the clearing changed. The mushroom circle glowed brighter, the mist rising in twisting columns that formed shapes— a faceless crowd here, the shadow of a throne there. A phantom version of Alaric materialized before me, his gray eyes soft with love as he reached for me.

“Now,” Endora whispered, her voice slithering between my ribs, “let it go.”

The chant she began was in no language I knew, the syllables like broken glass in my ears. The phantom Alaric flickered, his smile fading as cracks appeared across his form. Something in my chest wrenched violently.

Pain.

Hot and all consuming, like someone had reached into my ribcage and torn out a vital artery. I collapsed to my knees, a scream building in my throat that never emerged. The memory unraveled before my eyes—Alaric’s face blurring, his touch dissolving, the scent of him fading like smoke in the wind.

No no no—

Then, horrifyingly... nothing.

The pain vanished as suddenly as it came, leaving me gasping on the damp earth. The clearing was just a clearing again, the mushrooms ordinary fungi, the mist mere vapor. My hands shook as I pressed them to my temples, trying desperately to recall what had just hurt so terribly.

Something about... a ceremony? A marking?

“Where am I?” I rasped, “what happened?”

The seer smiled down at me, her expression almost gentle. “Nothing of consequence.” She offered a hand to help me up. Did I know her? She looked familiar. I felt a little dizzy.

“It’s late. You should rest.” She said again.

I took her hand, my limbs moving sluggishly as if I’d slept for days. The walk back to the castle passed in a haze— the towering spires looked familiar but distant, like a painting I’d seen long ago. The guards at the gate nodded respectfully, but their faces meant nothing to me.

Why can’t I remember their names?

The woman guided me through corridors that should have been home but felt like a dream, finally depositing me at the door to what she called “my chambers.” The room was lavish— a queen’s quarters, clearly— but the silks and furs might as well have belonged to a stranger.

A sharp cry shattered the unnatural calm.

I turned slowly toward the sound, my heart pounding for reasons I couldn’t name. A bassinet sat near the hearth, its occupant wailing with the inconsolable misery of an infant. My feet carried me forward without conscious thought.

The baby’s face was red and scrunched, her tiny fists flailing. Something deep in my chest ached at the sight, a primal pull I didn’t understand.

Who...?

The door creaked open behind me.

“Dove.” The voice was rich and warm, laced with concern. “Why are you abed so early? Are you unwell?”

I turned to find the most striking man I’d ever seen— tall and broad shouldered, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he’d been running his hands through it. Storm-grey eyes searched my face, their intensity stealing my breath. His scent hit me a second later— pinewoods, something in it making my knees weak.

My mouth opened, then closed. I knew him. I must have known him. The way my body reacted to his presence spoke of intimacy, of history. But my mind...

Blank.

The man— maybe an Alpha, some deep part of me whispered— stepped closer, his calloused fingers brushing my cheek. “Lilac?”

I flinched at the name, though it sounded right. His touch burned, but not unpleasantly. The baby’s cries intensified behind us, and the man’s gaze flickered to the bassinet, then back to me. Something like panic flashed in those grey depths.

“Dove,” he said carefully, as if speaking to a spooked animal, “what’s wrong?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came. “Who are you?” I whispered and my world shook.

The last thing I saw before the world went black was the man lunging forward to catch me, his roar of “MEDIC!” shaking the very stones of the castle.