The 30-Day Severance, Revenge Before I Leave Chapter 04

The 30-Day Severance, Revenge Before I Leave Chapter 04

On the fifth day, the mark on my wrist read:

25 days.

North Ridge stayed quiet.

The fires burned badly. The servants Carl sent barely spoke to me. At night, I could hear wolves howling beyond the northern woods, closer than they should have been.

I held Mia more than I put her down.

She was still weak from birth, but she ate well. She slept with one tiny hand curled against my finger.

On the sixth morning, Martha came.

She had served my mother years ago, before Carl brought me to Silvermoon. I had not seen her since the day I became Silvermoon’s Luna.

Now she stood outside the nursery door with a tea tray in her hands and fear in her face.

“Luna,” she whispered. “Please lock the door.”

I did.

Martha set the tray down and pulled a folded paper from her apron.

“My cousin works in the packhouse archives,” she said. “She found this before they sealed the records.”

I took it.

It was a medical note.

Selina’s name was at the top.

Below it were lines of cold handwriting. I read them once. Then again.

Leo’s core had not formed right.

He was not expected to survive long.

The room seemed to tilt, but I kept my hand steady.

“They knew?” I asked.

Martha nodded, her eyes red.

“The doctors told Alpha Carl there was one chance. A life-source extraction from a white-wolf newborn.”

I looked at Mia in her crib.

She was awake now, watching the ceiling with silver-gray eyes that had barely learned how to focus.

Martha started to cry.

“They didn’t send you here to rest,” she said. “They’re coming for her.”

Something inside me went very still.

Carl had not only betrayed me.

He had planned around my daughter before she was even born.

“Burn the paper,” I said.

Martha froze. “Luna?”

“Burn it,” I said. “If they search this house, they cannot find it on you.”

Martha nodded, but fear stayed in her eyes.

At the time, I thought destroying the paper would be enough.

I was wrong.

After she left, I sat beside Mia’s crib for a long time.

Running would not work.

Carl controlled the roads. The guards. The borders. The doctors. Even if I made it past the gates, he would find us before nightfall.

So I stopped thinking like a wife.

I started thinking like a Luna.

From beneath my gown, I pulled out the old silver locket my mother had left me.

Carl had seen it a hundred times and never cared. To him, it was only an ugly family trinket.

I opened it.

Inside, the metal was smooth and cold.

“Mia,” I whispered.

She blinked at me.

“I’m sorry.”

I pricked the tip of her finger.

She gave one small cry, more offended than hurt.

One drop of blood fell into the locket.

The silver inside warmed.

I pressed my palm over Mia’s chest and let my own blood answer hers. Not enough to hurt her. Just enough to hide what mattered most.

Her scent changed slowly.

The fresh snow faded.

The winter mint softened.

What remained was ordinary. Safe. Dull enough for Carl’s doctors to believe.

Mia yawned.

I kissed her tiny hand.

“Let him take what he thinks he came for,” I whispered. “He won’t touch who you are.”

Outside, the wind pushed against the windows.

Far away, somewhere beyond the manor, a wolf howled and was answered by another.

Silvermoon was already weaker.

Carl just did not know where the weakness had begun.