When The Luna Broke Her Chains novel Chapter 16

Chapter 16 Daughters Of Malice

[XENA]

Finished

The second–last chapter of the Silver Severance book states something so absurd, so dangerously simple, that I reread the lines three times just to be certain.

A Lycan King may nullify a marriage between an Alpha and his Luna with nothing more than his command.

There’s no ritual required, no blood sacrifice. No moonlit vows to break.

Just his word.

I stare at the page until the letters blur.

Why would Elder Bren point me toward this? Why would he imply this is the easiest way for me to be free of Cassian?

Did he assume the Lycan King would favor me as soon as we arrived at court for the Moonborne Gathering? That he’d see a wolfless Luna and just… take pity? Or worse–that I could charm him, sway him, convince him to listen to me over Cassian?

That is laughable. Even to me.

Cassian would object, of course. He would roar and posture and pretend he loves me for the sake of appearances. And why would a king–the king–care about my misery when the rest of the world doesn’t?

No. This can’t be my brightest hope.

It can’t be my only hope.

I slam the book shut and push it aside as if distance could make its words less overwhelming. The other book–the one Bren gave me–lies beneath my hand. Its faded cover gives the illusion of wisdom, of

answers.

I flip it open.

Illustrations stare back at me. Wolves rising through moonlit forests, women kneeling beneath silver eclipses, silhouettes losing shape. But the text…

The page has scattered glyphs I’ve never seen before. There’s no explanation or guidance. The symbols feel more like warnings than teachings.

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Perfect.”

I close that book too. Harder this time.

Maybe I should just endure the next two years. Wait for Davina to return while surviving quietly. Pretend none of this matters while Cassian waits for his true mate like a man waiting for spring.

But even after she returns–even when she becomes his Luna–what then?

I will still be bound to him. Bound by his commands. Bound by the part of me that still answers to him because of the way our bond was forced into existence. Even wolfless wolves cannot escape an Alpha’s authority.

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Chapter 16 Daughters Of Malice

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Finished

What if he keeps me as a servant? A pretty ornament? Ahing for Davina to torment when she is bored and blissful beside him?

My stomach turns. No. I cannot live like that.

Before I can draw a steadier breath, the door slams open so hard the hinges scream.

Lady Mara Thorne, my mother–in–law, sweeps inside, chin raised. Oriel, Cassian’s sister, flutters in behind her, all arrogance and spite wrapped in a girl who has never been told no.

So they’ve returned from one of their many travels.

“Reading again?” Lady Mara clicks her tongue. “As if leaming a few glyphs will fix anything in this household.”

Oriel makes a disgusted noise in her throat. “It smells awful in here. Like old books and… despair.”

I rise without commenting.

“It is astonishing,” Lady Mara continues, stepping closer, “how you can sit in this room with your little papers while the rest of us deal with the aftermath of your… dramatics.”

I blink at her. “My dramatics.”

“Yes, dear.” Her painted smile sharpens. “Cassian is exhausted because of you. You humiliated him at Crescent Ash’s celebration. Surely you’ve never been grateful for everything my son has done for you. But at least you could show some respect for the man who raised you and gave you his name? If he hadn’t picked you out of that butchered home, you wouldn’t be alive. Have you ever thought of that?”

Oriel wanders, bored already. She trails her fingers along my shelves, sniffs at a candle, then turns toward the chest at the foot of my bed. My chest falls with relief when she ignores the pup’s fortress.

I hope Vera’s asleep.

Please don’t come out now.

“Don’t,” I say when Oriel’s fingers trace over the lid.

She hears the warning, and she ignores it anyway. She always does.

With a theatrical gasp, she flips the latch and throws open the lid as though she’s unveiling treasure that somehow belongs to her by default.

My dresses–plain, altered, lived–in–are tossed aside one by one, landing in a careless heap on the floor. It’s familiar. Insult disguised as playfulness. But today, she pauses.

Her hand closes around something that catches the faint light. She lifts it from the chest with a small, disbelieving laugh.

The golden set. The one that the stranger offered me.

Her eyes widen, then narrow to delighted malice. “And what,” she asks sweetly, “is this supposed to be?”

Lady Mara turns, and the moment she sees the Aureate metal, her face tenses. “Where did you get that?”

Oriel holds it against her throat, admiring her reflection in the darkened window. “She clearly didn’t buy it.

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Chapter 16 Daughters Of Malice

And Cassian has never gifted her anything remotely this fine. So…. who did you steal it from, Xena?”

“I didn’t steal it,” I say.

Oriel’s smile widens. “Oh, so you simply took it.”

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Lady Mara’s voice drops. “Only the palace smiths work metal like this.” Her gaze sharpens. “And no one in this house gave it to you.”

I say nothing. Which is answer enough for them.

Oriel’s eyes go bright with mean delight. “Mother, imagine the shame if the pack knew. Imagine Cassian’s fury when he finds out she stole the robes from a royal.

Lady Mara exhales slowly, triumph curling at her lips. She has found something she can use.

Oriel drapes the blouse over her collarbones, twirling once. “I’ll take it. It actually looks exquisite on me. On her, it would’ve–what’s the word? Tarnished.” She laughs.

I step forward. “Put it back.”

She steps back. “Come take it.”

Lady Mara raises a hand in lazy dismissal. “Oriel, don’t let her bully you. If she wanted such beauty, she should’ve earned it. Or married someone who actually adores her.”

“And she didn’t,” Oriel sings.

I inhale quietly, and then a soft sound breaks the tension.

A tiny chuff of annoyance.

Oriel’s head snaps toward the bed. Lady Mara stiffens.

A small black shape slips out from beneath the frame, shaking off dust as an offended queen roused from a

nap.

Vera.

She trots forward, tail high, golden eyes fixed on Oriel with a focus far too old for her tiny body.

Oriel stumbles backward, clutching the golden set to her chest as if the pup might lunge.

“Wh–what is that?” she squeaks.

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