CHAPTER 217: LET YOUR HEART BE BARE AND CLEAN

Serena leaned against the wall and blinked slowly, everything seemed to be better now. Even the consequences of her absence in her room looked small to her. She would manage. She stretched out her legs in front of her and glanced at the priestess who was staring blankly ahead.

Suddenly Serena felt conscious, maybe her decisions had been too rash. She interlaced her fingers together and cleared her throat.

"Thank you," she managed to say after a while.

The Moonseeker chuckled and shook her head. "It is easy to crawl into your head and get lost in it."

Serena lowered her gaze. The warmth from the temple hearth was gentle, unlike the roaring fires of the castle’s hallways. Here, everything felt a bit slower, and more sacred. She had barely stepped into this space, yet it felt like her bones had known it long before her feet ever touched the stone.

The Moonseeker sat beside her now, hands folded in her lap, her white eyes half-lidded. She was a picture of serenity, Serena did feel out of place with the other woman.

"I wish..." Serena stopped herself. She had almost let it slip. The truth, the exile, Silverstone. Her tongue felt heavy behind her teeth. A knot tightened in her throat.

"You need not speak what you are not yet ready to share," the Moonseeker said softly, as though reading her very thoughts. "Some burdens are like bruises, they deepen when pressed too soon."

Serena nodded stiffly. "Then may I ask another thing?" she ventured, her voice low.

"Speak."

"I fear the Dawnbreak wolves may learn more than they ought. There are many eyes, and not all of them are kind. I do not know how to act around them, how to keep the veil unbroken."

The Moonseeker tilted her head, as though listening to something far off. "The truth is a root, whether buried or bared, it still nourishes or poisons. Tread with care, daughter of Lunara. But do not twist yourself into shadow, else you may not find your way back."

Serena frowned slightly. That wasn’t exactly the clarity she had hoped for, but there was wisdom in the riddle.

"And what of Ironshade’s Alpha? What of... his father?" she asked quietly.

At this, the priestess stirred. A strange shift passed over her features, fleeting but unmistakable. "The past does not belong to me to tell," she replied. "What you seek lies with your mate."

Serena flinched. The word still held weight, as though it were a tether she both clung to and longed to sever.

"He is not-"

The Moonseeker raised a brow.

Serena fell silent. It was useless to argue the Moonseeker already knew ages ago that she and Darius were fated mates.

"Ask him. And when you do, ask not with suspicion, but with an unguarded heart. Let it be bare and clean. Else your question shall build walls, not bridges."

Serena swallowed, unsure of how to respond. That warning resonated deeper than she liked. She had already been planning to ask others, maybe Charlotte, maybe Emmett and that strange man.. But now...

She let out a breath, one hand pressing to her chest as if to slow the rush of thoughts.

"I just don’t want to ruin everything," she whispered. "I feel... so small. And if I misstep, if even a sliver of truth spills. I might destroy all we’re trying to build."

The Moonseeker leaned forward and placed a hand over Serena’s. Her skin was warm, soft with age, but strong with something older than time. "You have already endured the ruin. What comes now is rebuilding. You have more strength than you allow yourself to believe."

Serena’s throat tightened again. She wished she could say more, confide everything. But she didn’t dare. The secrets locked behind her lips weren’t hers alone. They belonged to ghosts, to promises, to her father’s cold grave.

She turned her head and stared toward the open door of the temple. The night was still ink-black, the moon now hanging just above the line of trees.

"I should not have left the castle," she said, more to herself.

"You came because you were called," the Moonseeker said simply. "Few listen when the moon sings, fewer still know it was her voice."

Serena blinked, unsure what to make of that. Feyra had guided her here, hadn’t she? She glanced inward and felt her presence stir, soft, sleepy, comforted.

I like it here, Feyra murmured gently within her. It feels like home.

Serena let her lips quirk upward.

"You will not be punished for seeking peace," the Moonseeker added, her voice quieter now. "But do return before the sun crests the hills. Not every soul in Ironshade knows mercy."

Serena nodded slowly. Her legs ached from the ride, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. She shifted on the floor, curling her knees to her chest.

"I do not know what I am doing," she admitted.

"No one ever does," the Moonseeker replied with a knowing smile. "They only learn to walk with grace through uncertainty."

The priestess rose then, she moved toward the altar and began to tidy the simple space, clearing incense ash, folding the cloths. Her movements were precise and unhurried.

Serena watched her in silence, some part of her wondering if this was how peace was meant to feel, quiet, unremarkable, yet suddenly precious.

Her eyelids grew heavy.

"You may rest here," came the gentle voice. "The moon watches all her daughters. You are safe beneath her gaze."

Serena nodded, already slipping down to lie upon the smooth stone. Her cloak bundled beneath her head. The knot in her chest loosened, the words of the Moonseeker echoing in her ears.

Let your heart be bare and clean.

The thought made her uneasy, but also, free, in a way she could not yet name.

As the fire dimmed to embers and the night deepened, Serena drifted into sleep beneath the goddess’ eye. Her dreams were quiet. For the first time in weeks, she was not haunted.