The air in the throne hall was heavier than usual that morning. Guards stood at full attention along the marble walls, spears gleaming beneath the faint light filtering through tall windows. The previous day's chaos had left the entire castle uneasy. Rumors spread despite the king's warning and whispers about the rogues, the Heiress, and the bride.
Now, another summons had gone out, this time not from the king, but from the High Priestess of the Moon herself.
Aveloria entered the hall quietly beside her father. The low a sound of her boots echoed in the silence. The elders were already seated, their expressions ranging from anxious to defensive. Elder Eldric was the only one who looked outright impatient, his arms folded across his chest as if he had better things to do.
Then the doors opened again.
The High Priestess walked in slowly, her white ceremonial robes trailing behind her. Silver embroidery shaped like crescent moons ran along the hem. Her long hair, streaked with gray, shimmered under the morning light. The guards bowed.
King Alaric stood to greet her. "High Priestess Caelina. It's been months since the temple has sent a direct summons."
Caelina nodded gently. Her presence seemed to still the air. "It could not be helped, Your Majesty. The Moon's call was stronger this time than in generations."
The council murmured among themselves.
Caelina's eyes moved slowly across the room until they stopped on Aveloria. She held her gaze for a long, silent moment.
The priestess's expression softened. "It is her," she whispered.
Aveloria felt her chest tighten. "What do you mean?"
Caelina walked toward her, stopping only a few steps away. "The moment I entered your kingdom, I felt the power radiating from you. I have felt it only once in all my life, and that was on the night of the sacred ritual when you came of age."
King Alaric frowned. "The coming-of-age ceremony at the festival of the moon?"
"Yes," Caelina said. "The ritual held at the temple was not like any other. When the moonlight touched her, it burned silver and gold, light and shadow. The priestesses in attendance were afraid to speak of it without your consent, but now there is no time to hide it."
A tense silence fell.
Elder Vargos leaned forward slowly. "What exactly does that mean, Priestess?"
Caelina's voice carried a quiet gravity. "It means the Goddess chose her. The Heiress is not merely of royal blood; she carries divine purpose. She is the Moon's chosen vessel."
Gasps echoed around the chamber.
Eldric scoffed. "The Goddess's vessel? You expect us to believe such nonsense?"
Caelina turned her gaze to him sharply. "You doubt the Moon's will, Elder?"
He bristled. "I doubt politics disguised as religion."
"Watch your words," Vargos warned.
The king lifted a hand, silencing them. His expression was grave. "High Priestess, if what you're saying is true, what is her purpose?"
Caelina took a deep breath. "To ascend the throne as the one true ruler of all wolfkind. The Moon's light must reign through her. Every pack, every bloodline, even those once divided, must bow to her reign, or risk destruction."
The room erupted in stunned whispers.
Aveloria's voice came out quietly. "Destruction?"
Caelina looked at her gently. "The Goddess's prophecy has always balanced creation and ruin. If you rise with unity, you will bring peace. But if your bonds remain divided, war will follow and the world will burn as it once did."
King Alaric stepped closer. "What prophecy are you speaking of?"
Caelina turned, looking around the room. From beneath her robes, she pulled a small scroll sealed with wax bearing the mark of the Moon Temple. She broke the seal and unrolled it carefully.
"The Prophecy of the Tetrabond," she announced.
The murmuring stopped again. Even the guards shifted uneasily.
Elder Vargos spoke softly. "That name…I've heard it before, in old records."
Caelina nodded. "A thousand years ago, during the First Age. The prophecy speaks of a chosen heiress bound by four threads of fate, four mates, four powers, four choices. Together they bring balance to the world…or they destroy it. Every choice will cost you something, my child."
The words hit the hall like thunder.
Aveloria felt her pulse race. "Every choice will cost you something, my child." She repeated.
Caelina looked directly at her. "You already know it, don't you?"
Aveloria didn't speak, but her silence was enough.
Eldric slammed his hand against the table. "This is absurd! Four mates? Impossible! Such a thing defies our nature. It's a curse, not a gift!"
Caelina's eyes hardened. "You fear what you do not understand, Elder. The Tetrabond was never meant for ordinary wolves. The Goddess created a balance of light, darkness, loyalty, and rebellion. Each mate represents one aspect of the Moon."
Vargos's tone was low. "And if they are not united?"
Caelina looked down at the parchment again. "Then the four bands will fight against one another. Love will turn to jealousy, loyalty to betrayal, and the world will fall into chaos. Half the ancient realms will be wiped out if they don't unite."
The king's voice cut through the silence. "What are we supposed to do?"
Caelina looked up. "You must bring them together, all four mates. The bonds must recognize each other and find balance, or the curse will consume them all."
For a moment, no one spoke. Then the council erupted in chaos.
Eldric rose from his seat, shouting. "You're suggesting we invite rogues into our kingdom? After they declared their claim? Are you mad?"
Another elder joined in. "If the heiress brings war, she should be isolated, not crowned!"
"The Goddess chose her!" Vargos shouted back. "You can't fight destiny!"
Another elder turned on him. "You'd let superstition rule the kingdom? You'd let a child with four lovers decide our future?"
"Enough!" King Alaric bellowed.
The sound silenced the room instantly. His voice was heavy, commanding. "I will not have this hall become a battleground of egos." He looked to Caelina. "You said all must be united. But how do we begin?"
Caelina bowed her head slightly. "Call them. The Moon will not wait. Bring her to the temple of the first light. There, the ritual of convergence will reveal whether the prophecy intends peace or ruin."
Aveloria felt the floor sway beneath her feet. "A ritual?"
"Yes," Caelina said softly. "You must stand before the Moon's light to swear your allegiance. And when the time is right, you will stand with all four of them."
Eldric laughed bitterly. "What kind of spectacle is this? The Heiress of Lycanthria standing beside rogues and outsiders? The people will revolt!"
Vargos shot him a look. "Better revolt than annihilation."
The argument started again, voices rising, hands slamming against the table, accusations flying like sparks. The king closed his eyes for a long moment, listening to the noise. When he finally spoke, his tone was low and resolute.
"We will do as the Goddess commands," he said.
The hall fell silent again.
All the elders turned sharply to him. "Your Majesty!"
"No more debates," Alaric cut in. "We will prepare the ritual."
Caelina bowed. "I will make arrangements at once. The Moon will rise full in three nights when the convergence must occur."
The king nodded, and she turned to leave. The guards followed her out, and the rest of the council slowly dispersed.
One of the Elders named Leander lingered by the doorway, his glare fixed on Aveloria. "If this destroys us, the blood will be on your hands."
She met his gaze calmly. "If destruction comes, it will be from the ones who refuse to listen."
He didn't answer. He just turned and walked out.
When they last left, the hall felt suddenly too large and quiet.
Aveloria stood beside her father, still trying to breathe through the weight pressing against her chest. "Four bonds," she murmured. "Father, what if they can't be united?"
He looked at her with tired eyes. "Then we do what we must to protect our people. But for now…we try."
**************************
Deep inside the west wing, golden doors opened into a chamber. Inside, Eirene, the queen, Aveloria's stepmother, sat at her bed brushing her dark hair. The room glowed with candlelight and the gleam of expensive jewels.
A maid stood near the door, hesitant. "Your Grace, the court was loud today. They say the High Priestess called the heiress chosen."
Eirene stopped brushing. Her reflection hardened. "Chosen," she repeated quietly, the word sour on her tongue.
"Yes, my lady. They also said the prophecy—"
"I know what they said," Eirene snapped, cutting her off. The maid lowered her head.
Eirene stood, setting the brush down sharply. "Do you know what happens when the Goddess chooses someone? Everyone forgets who truly holds power."
She paced across the room, her robe trailing behind her. "For years, I've watched that girl be worshiped for doing nothing. The council bends for her, her father shields her from every consequence, and now they say the Goddess crowns her, too?"
Her eyes flashed with fury. "No. I won't allow it."
The maid hesitated. "But, my lady, if the prophecy—"
Eirene turned on her sharply. "The prophecy is a story for fools." She walked to the window, staring out at the moonlit courtyard. "I've worked too hard to secure my daughter's place in this kingdom. Rowena was meant to rule, not that cursed child."
Her voice dropped lower, colder. "Aveloria's rise would destroy everything I've built."
She turned back toward the mirror, her reflection almost smiling now. "If the Heiress is destined to ascend, destiny can be rewritten."
She opened a small drawer and pulled out a crimson seal, one marked not with the royal crest but with something darker, a secretive order.
Eirene pressed it against a parchment and began to write swiftly.
When she finished, she sealed the letter and handed it to the maid. "Deliver this to Lord Rowan in the southern court. No one must know."
The maid nodded quickly and hurried out.
Eirene stood alone, staring at her reflection again. For a moment, the mask of calm slipped, revealing pure bitterness.
She whispered, "You may be the Goddess's chosen, Aveloria…but my daughter will be queen."
She blew out the candle beside her mirror, and the room darkened.