The moonlight rushed in like a living creature—
hungry, ancient, searching.
It swept across the chamber and swallowed every shadow, every corner, every breath.
Lysandra felt it hit her chest like a cold spear.
Evander staggered.
The Heir tensed, eyes narrowing.
The High Priestess lifted her staff.
"The Trial of Truth begins now."
A circle of silver fire erupted around Lysandra, Evander, and the Heir—
closing them inside a glowing ring the Guardians refused to step into.
Because the Truth Circle did not simply reveal truth.
It ripped it from your soul.
Evander exhaled shakily.
"Lysandra… what do we have to do?"
The Priestess answered:
"Nothing.
The moon will decide who speaks first."
Lysandra's pulse hammered painfully.
"Wait—no— I'm not ready—"
"None of us ever are," the Priestess said.
Then the moonlight flared—
and chose.
It struck Evander first.
He gasped—
his body locking in place as a glowing aura wrapped around him tightly like a cocoon of moonlit threads.
"What— what's happening?!" Evander choked.
Lysandra lunged forward—
but the Heir grabbed her arm.
"Don't break the circle," he said sharply.
"You'll destroy him."
Lysandra froze, trembling violently.
Evander shuddered as the moonlight dragged something from deep inside his chest—
something he had been holding back with human instinct and fear.
The Priestess watched with solemn eyes.
"The moon has chosen the mortal's truth first."
Evander squeezed his eyes shut.
"Lysandra…"
his voice cracked,
"…I'm sorry."
Lysandra's heart dropped.
"Sorry? For what?"
"I've been lying," he whispered.
"Not to hurt you.
Just… because I didn't want you to think I was crazy."
The moonlight pulsed harder.
Evander's voice broke.
"The night I dragged you from the forest… the night you passed out…"
Lysandra swallowed.
"I remember."
"No," Evander whispered.
"You don't."
The moonlight grew brighter, forcing him to speak.
Evander's eyes lifted—
grey like storm clouds, full of guilt, fear, truth.
"I saw you shift."
Silence.
Lysandra's breath vanished.
The Heir's brows lifted, surprised.
The Guardians gasped.
The Priestess stepped closer.
"You witnessed her wolf?"
Evander nodded, tears burning his lashes.
"You weren't fully shifted. Just— just your eyes.
Your claws. Your aura.
I didn't know what I was seeing. I thought I was imagining it.
But then you collapsed in front of me, and I—I—"
He swallowed.
"I carried you home.
I sat with you all night, waiting for you to wake up.
I knew something was wrong with you.
Something not human."
Lysandra's heart shattered.
"Evander… why didn't you tell me?"
He laughed softly—brokenly.
"Because I thought if I said it out loud, you'd run.
You'd leave the town.
You'd never look at me again."
Lysandra's lips parted.
"Oh…"
Evander shook his head, breathing hard.
"But I didn't care.
I just wanted you safe."
Her wolf whimpered.
The moon pressed deeper—
forcing more truth out of him.
Evander flinched as another memory tore open.
"And when I saw the Shadow Heir in your shop…
when he touched you…
I felt—"
his breath hitched,
"…feelings I've never felt before."
The Heir smirked faintly.
Evander glared at him through the moonlight.
"I wanted to rip him away from you."
Lysandra blinked.
Evander whispered:
"I wanted to protect you, even though I had no idea what I was protecting you from."
The moonlight brightened.
His voice lowered to a trembling whisper.
"And that's my truth."
He looked at Lysandra.
"Even before the bond…
even before the prophecy…
even before I knew what you were…"
He swallowed hard.
"…I cared about you.
More than I should have."
Lysandra's eyes burned.
Evander's shoulders sagged as the moon released him.
He fell forward, panting, hands braced on the floor.
Lysandra rushed to him, touching his face gently.
"Evander… thank you."
He leaned into her touch, eyes fluttering closed.
"I didn't want to lie anymore," he whispered.
"You deserve the truth."
Lysandra kissed his forehead softly.
His wolf-less heart steadied hers.
For a second—
her entire world was him.
But then—
The moonlight flared again.
Sharp.
Cold.
Demanding.
It struck the Heir next.
Lysandra whipped around—not ready, not prepared—for what his truth would look like.
The Heir stiffened as moonfire wrapped around him like chains.
Shadows recoiled, screaming silently against the light.
He clenched his jaw.
"Lovely," he muttered.
"Let's see what embarrassment the moon pulls out."
The Priestess bowed her head.
"The Shadow Heir's truth."
The Heir's voice dropped to a low, unwilling whisper.
"I knew about her," he said quietly.
"Before she was born."
Lysandra's blood froze.
"What?"
The Heir's eyes turned distant, pained—
a look she had never seen on him.
"The night of the Blood Crescent," he murmured,
"when you were born into light…
I was born into shadow."
The moon tightened around him, forcing him deeper.
"We were paired.
Chosen.
Bound by prophecy."
Lysandra trembled.
"You… knew?"
His voice broke for a moment.
"I felt you."
Her breath hitched.
"What?"
"I felt your magic.
Your heartbeat.
Your birth-cry."
His voice softened to a whisper.
"It pulled at me."
Evander stiffened behind her.
The Heir continued:
"I searched for you for years.
I looked for the moon's child.
I crossed realms.
I climbed through nightmares.
Because the prophecy said—"
His voice shook with something raw.
"—that you were meant for me."
Lysandra's heart twisted painfully.
The moonlight dug deeper.
The Heir hissed, gripping his own chest.
"And yet…"
His voice dropped to a whisper so fragile it almost broke.
"…you didn't choose me."
Lysandra's breath caught.
Evander stiffened.
The Heir's eyes were bright—
with fury
and heartbreak
and something deeper.
The Heir whispered:
"I hated the mortal for it."
Evander's jaw tightened.
Lysandra shook her head.
"Shadow—"
He cut her off.
"No. Let the moon have its truth."
The moon squeezed harder.
He closed his eyes.
"I hated him because he got the part of you I wanted."
His voice cracked, just once.
"He got your smile.
Your softness.
Your trust."
Lysandra's cheeks burned.
Her heart pulled in two directions—
painfully.
The Heir looked at her then.
Really looked.
"As I watched him calm you…
touch you…
hold you…"
Shadows trembled behind him.
"I wanted to kill him."
Evander inhaled sharply.
"But I didn't," the Heir whispered.
"Because your magic flared every time he was hurt.
You care for him."
Lysandra felt tears rise again.
The moon forced the final truth:
"And I…"
he swallowed, struggling,
"…care for you."
The words came out like they cost him blood.
Evander froze.
Lysandra's breath shattered.
The Heir whispered the final blow:
"That is my truth."
The moon released him.
He collapsed to one knee, chest heaving.
Shadows curled protectively around him like wounded wolves.
Lysandra stared at him—
not with anger,
not with fear—
but confusion and pain.
Two truths.
Two men.
One human, warm and gentle.
One heir, dark and broken.
Both tied to her.
But the moon wasn't finished.
The moonlight hit her next.
A cold spike pierced her chest.
Her wolf roared.
Her breath caught.
The Priestess whispered:
"And now… the Moonblood's truth."
Lysandra's knees buckled.
Evander caught her.
The Heir reached for her too.
She trembled as moonlight wrapped around her—
lifting her slightly off the ground.
Her voice tore from her throat before she could stop it:
"I'm afraid."
She sobbed.
"I'm afraid of both bonds.
Afraid of losing Evander…
and afraid of what the Heir awakens in me."
Evander's heart cracked.
The Heir's eyes flared.
Lysandra choked on her own breath.
"I didn't choose destiny," she whispered.
"I didn't choose prophecy.
I didn't choose two bonds."
Her tears glimmered.
"I just wanted a simple life.
My shop.
My moonlit nights."
Her voice trembled.
"But I can't run anymore."
The moonlight swirled faster.
Her wolf surged.
And Lysandra screamed her deepest truth:
"I care about you both."
The chamber fell silent.
Evander's eyes widened.
The Heir froze completely.
The moon gave one last pulse—
accepting her truth.
The Priestess's voice rang out:
"The Trial of Truth is complete."
The circle vanished.
Lysandra collapsed to the floor—
two sets of hands catching her at once.
Evander.
And the Heir.
Both holding her.
Both hers.
Both bound to her fate.