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Chapter 36

The ancient council room of the pack was a dim sanctuary, its stone walls etched with centuries of whispered prayers and faded runes. Flickering torches cast trembling shadows over a massive wooden table strewn with crumbling pages, brittle scrolls, and mysterious relics. Avynna, Baron, Nancy, Atena, and a handful of trusted elders gathered around, their faces grave with worry yet hopeful in their determination. At the center sat Bavanda, all eyes locked on her.

Nancy spoke first. “You said you saw something that could weaken him. Can you tell us what it looked like?" The desperation in her voice was unavoidable.

Bavanda nodded, no hesitation. “I don’t know what it was. It was shaped like a sphere—silver, glowing, alive. I think it’s connected to the Moon Goddess. When it appeared in my vision, the darkness pulled back. Even Valchren flinched.”

Everyone exchanged looks, the weight of her words sinking in.

“I don’t know what it’s called yet,” Bavanda continued, “but I’m certain it’s real. And I believe it’s the key. I want to help Nancy. I need to help her. And I think that... thing—whatever it is—can tip the scales.”

Nancy stepped forward, eyes shining. “You’re sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Bavanda said, her voice gaining strength. “We’re running out of time. I woke up for a reason. The Moon called me back. And I’m not going to let her down.”

Avynna leaned forward, placing a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “Then we’ll stand with you. No matter what.”

Atena pulled, out of nowhere, a particularly decrepit grimoire, its pages yellowed and stained by time.

Atena traced an ancient diagram with a slender finger, her eyes alight with a quiet conviction. “Is this it?” she asked, voice soft but carrying the weight of divine authority.

Bavanda nodded immediately. “Yes. Exactly, that's it."

Atena’s lips curved up slightly, but it could barely be called a smile. She began, “A forgotten rite that once bound the Moon Goddess’s power to the very fabric of our world. It speaks of the ‘Lunar Heart’—a sacred orb capable of channeling pure moonlight to repel and break the grip of dark magic.”

Nancy leaned forward, her expression a mixture of hope and urgency. “If we can harness that power, if we activate the Lunar Heart during the next lunar eclipse, we might shatter the bonds of Valchren’s magic for good. It’s our only chance to cleanse the corruption that’s seeping into our people.”

Baron’s eyes, usually steeled with resolve, revealed a deep uncertainty. “And you expect a mere relic to undo what has been wrought by the darkness itself?” His tone was rough, punctuated by the memory of failures past. “We've lost so much already. How can an ancient piece of stone mend the fractures of our souls?”

A hushed murmur rippled across the room. An elder cleared his throat. “The texts are ambiguous, yet hopeful. The ritual requires more than the relic; it demands unity and unwavering faith—a sacrifice from each soul devoted to the Moon Goddess. Only then can the true power of the Lunar Heart awaken.”

Atena’s steady gaze swept the assembly. “We must have hope. Even if Baron’s doubts linger, remember—this relic is our beacon. It is the tangible promise of salvation in the midst of despair. You also heard Bavanda, the moon goddess showed this to her in her visions. Are you really going to doubt the moon?”

For a long, painful moment, silence reigned. The torches’ light flickered as if in response to the flicker of hope stirring in their hearts. Even Baron’s stoic façade wavered in the gloom—a silent acknowledgment that salvation was worth risking everything.

Nancy broke the silence. “I'll take a team with me to find the Lunar Heart as soon as possible."

No one answered, but they all agreed silently.

As the meeting drew to a close, a solemn resolve had taken hold. They knew that to stand against the encroaching shadow, they must rekindle the ancient power of the Moon Goddess.

Outside, in the dark corridors of the Dark Realm, Valchren’s words still rang true. The path to victory was fraught with peril—and failure was not an option.

In that fractured space between hope and despair, both sides prepared for the battle that would decide the fate of their worlds. The relic, the ritual, and the unyielding spirit of those who still believed in the purity of the Moon’s light would all come together in the coming eclipse—a moment where the darkness and the light would clash in an epic struggle for their souls.

As they all departed the room, Atena held Bavanda back. “How do you feel?" She asked solemnly.

Bavanda hesitated. “I can't really tell, but I feel great. I feel in control, and that's something I haven't felt in a long time."

Atena nodded. “Good! We'll need to do a lot more to get you to where the moon goddess wants you to be— spiritually, physically and mentally—are you ready?”

Bavanda swallowed. " Yes. Yes, I'm ready.”

Satisfaction spread on Atena's face. "That's the spirit, child. We'll find a warrior to train you in battle, that part of you needs to be strong as well."

“I can do that," a voice suddenly said. It was Loco.

He appeared from behind Bavanda where he had been quietly listening. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop." He apologized. “I can train her in battle, I don't mind."

Atena nodded. “Very well then. You two get to work, there's no time to waste. Later on, meet me in the garden."

***

The forest was quiet—eerily so. The only sounds came from the snap of twigs beneath Bavanda’s boots and the ragged rhythm of her breath as she crouched low, sweat dripping from her brow. Loco circled her, shirtless, his toned arms glistening with sweat and faint scars that whispered of countless battles. His golden eyes watched her like a predator, measuring every movement.

“Again,” he barked, tossing a wooden staff her way.

Bavanda caught it mid-air, the burn of her muscles barely registering anymore. She charged with a roar, striking, pivoting, ducking—each move more precise than the last. Loco blocked her, twisting her strike away, then sweeping her feet from under her. She hit the dirt hard, her breath stolen.

“You’re still leading with emotion,” he said firmly, offering a hand. “Control it, Bavanda. Don’t just fight with rage—fight with purpose.”

She gritted her teeth, refusing his hand, pushing herself up instead. Her skin was bruised, her knuckles bloodied from earlier rounds, but her eyes gleamed with stubborn fire. “I am fighting with purpose.”

He nodded slowly. “Then prove it.”

Again, they clashed. The forest echoed with the sound of wood on wood, the whip of kicks through the air, and grunts of exertion. Nearby, Atena sat cross-legged beneath the great Moon Willow, her silver robe fluttering slightly in the breeze. She watched silently, eyes glowing faintly.

Later that night, the bruises on Bavanda’s body throbbed, but the true battle came in the form of silence. Atena had taken her deeper into the woods, into a clearing bathed in moonlight. Here, the trees swayed as if whispering sacred words.

“Sit,” Atena commanded softly. “Close your eyes. Listen.”

Bavanda obeyed, falling into a trance-like state. At first, there was only darkness—and then came the voices.

Whispers. Some seductive, dangerous.

“You are not enough.”

“Let the dark in. It is power. It is freedom.”

She flinched… but then came another voice. Softer. Familiar.

Her mother, singing lullabies under starlight. Her father, whispering “I’m proud of you”. Loco, laughing with her by the riverbank after a hunt.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

“You are not your pain,” Atena’s voice broke in, soft but clear. “You are your choices. Your truth.”

Bavanda’s breathing steadied. Her hands glowed faintly, light rippling from within. From the tree line, Loco watched her in silence, awe in his gaze.

Later, as they walked back to camp, he told her, “You have the strength of a warrior and the heart of a guardian. Let your light shine against the darkness.”

She didn’t respond immediately. She just looked at the moon and whispered, “I will.”

Far away, beneath an overgrown ridge where once an ancient temple had stood, Nancy led a silent team of seven through the ruins. Steve flanked her left, a torch in one hand and his blade in the other. Cracked stone steps led them deeper into shadow, murals and carvings lining the walls like ghosts of the past.

“We’re close,” Nancy whispered, reading the faded glyphs on the wall. “It’s here. The Lunar Heart is housed in an altar beyond the last chamber as Atena said.”

As they stepped into the final room, a strange chill fell over them. At the center of the chamber, upon a raised pedestal, floated a silver orb glowing faintly—a pulse of soft light against the gloom.

But as Nancy stepped forward, a shadow peeled itself from the wall—twisted, monstrous, with clawed arms and a faceless head that seemed to cry out in hunger.

“Get back!” Steve shouted, pushing a scout aside.

Hey Guys please check my other stories: The Lycan and His healer mate, His Purchased Wife, 365 Days in Dmitry Cage, The fatal Lycan and his mysterious mate, Xiol's Treasured Mate, The luna and the lycan, Flash Marriage: President's Seduction, In Adonis world, Alpha's little Vampire Mate on R.a.d.i.s.h.

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