A Luna's Broken Heart

Chapter 9: A Story

-Selene-

“My story starts about three years ago,” she said, her green eyes struggling to meet mine. “I met my true mate when I was nineteen. I was head over heels and felt so lucky. He came from a higher status than I did, and I was amazed when we were paired. I promised myself I would live up to him and never drag him down. When he didn’t reject me, I was determined to keep that promise. But then a year passed, and things changed. He started coming up with strange excuses for being gone so often, and he came home smelling like another female. At first, I tried to ignore it, thinking I was imagining things. But he became short-tempered and acted so differently—he wasn’t the sweet mate I had known. Eventually, I learned the truth: he was seeing someone else, a female of higher status and much richer than me. She was the perfect match for him, and I couldn’t help but think that. But still, I didn’t reject him. I was so desperate to keep him… I know, it’s pathetic.”

I shook my head. Valerio and I might not have been true mates, but I had tried to hold on to him, though not for the selfless reasons Cecilia had.

“It’s not pathetic,” I assured her, earning a small smile from her.

“Anyway, one day he came home and ended things. He told me I was like an anchor around his ankle, pulling him down, and that he was tired of it. He wanted more—more than I could give him. I begged and pleaded with him not to leave, but he didn’t listen. He just rejected me and left, without saying another word. It shattered me into a thousand pieces. I felt so alone. I had only a few friends back then, and I lost them all because they couldn’t understand my pain, and I couldn’t let go of it. I even went to see him sometimes. At night, I would find him with that other female. It hurt so much. Even when I looked in the mirror and saw that pale mark on my shoulder, it hurt. My heart kept breaking over and over, and I didn’t believe it would ever stop.”

“You didn’t believe anyone else would want you?” I asked.

Cecilia looked at me for a moment before slowly shaking her head. “I didn’t want someone else. Why would I? After doing everything I could to please someone and still getting rejected, why would I wait for someone else to ‘save’ me from the pain only to risk going through it all again? No, I wanted myself back. I wanted my life back.”

“But the only way to do that was to replace the mark, right?” I inquired.

“How about, instead of replacing it, you remove it?”

I drew back slightly in shock. What was she saying? “That’s not possible,” I said.

“No?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“So, this isn’t possible?” she inquired, pulling down the neckline of her t-shirt to reveal her shoulder again. There was no mark there, but I wondered if maybe there never had been one.

“You don’t believe I was ever marked, do you?”

I looked away, feeling ashamed for doubting her, but it was too unbelievable, and I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment.

“That’s okay. I know how it sounds. I didn’t believe it either at first,” she told me.

“I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Don’t be sorry! Don’t ever be sorry. You give your power away when you do.”

I turned to her, confused. “Give my power away?”

“You’re strong. I can see it,” she said.

“You’re mistaken. I’m not...”

“I wouldn’t tell you this if I didn’t believe you could handle it. Not everyone should seek them out.”

“Who are ‘they’? Who helped you?” I inquired.

Cecilia took a deep breath, then took my hand and squeezed it. I looked at her, trying to understand.

“When I decided I didn’t want to wait for someone to ‘save’ me, I started looking for another solution. I read hundreds of articles, visited strange websites claiming vampires were real, and scoured thousands of books—both in human libraries and hidden ones for wolves. I even chatted with odd believers who said they could help me if I ‘gave’ myself to them, if you catch my drift. Then, one day, after searching for a year, I found something. It was a very old book that spoke of female Spirituals.”

“Wait, as in spiritual wolves?” I asked.

“You’ve heard of them?”

“My mother, before she died, told me a story about these powerful females who had some kind of direct link to the Goddess, but that was just a story. They don’t exist.”

“But they do. They’re real, but they aren’t easy to find. It took me months of research and studying old texts to locate them, and when I did… Meeting these females was unbelievable. I asked them to help me free myself from my old mate, and they did. I no longer feel any connection or pain. I’m free. I’m like I was before I met him!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with happiness.

I stared at Cecilia, her eyes brimming with joy, and thought she must be crazy. It seemed unreal. Maybe she had hit her head or was concocting this story to cover up her trauma. I pulled my hand back and shook my head.

“Spirituals aren’t real. There are no female wolves out there who can talk directly to the Goddess or break a mate bond. It’s just not possible,” I asserted, standing up from her bed. “I can’t believe I thought you could help me.”

I rubbed my eyes wearily and looked back at Cecilia. But what had I expected? She had clearly been through something traumatic. It made sense she would invent a story like this to cope.

“I’m not crazy,” she said firmly. “They are real.”

“Cecilia…” But before I could say anything else, Cecilia knelt on the floor and rummaged under her bed. She retrieved a worn brown bag and opened it, pulling out an ancient book with a blue-grey cover and a large ruby set in the center. The cover was adorned with strange white symbols that seemed to stretch and reach out, almost as if coaxing you to open it.

“Here,” she told me, handing me the book. “I had someone retrieve some of my things from my old home.”

I hesitantly took the book from her. It was heavy and felt almost alive, as if it contained a subtle energy. I glanced at Cecilia, who was intently watching the book in my hands.

“Read it,” she urged. “Read everything in it and then decide if you want to believe me. All the information, even the details I dug up, are in there… if you choose to reclaim yourself.”

I was certain she was either crazy or deeply traumatized, but if she wanted me to read an old book to prove her point, then so be it. It was just a book, after all. I nodded gratefully and then walked out of her room, book in hand.

I didn’t look back as I made my way to my office, where I placed the book on my desk. Settling into my black office chair, I sighed and rubbed my forehead, trying to ease the sudden headache that had taken hold. What had I been thinking? What had I hoped for?

It all seemed so foolish! Yet, for some reason, my gaze kept drifting back to the book. I could simply claim I’d read it, but for some reason, I didn’t want to. My hands reached for the book, pulling it closer.

I traced a finger down the cover, and for a moment, I thought I saw the white figures shift beneath my touch. I dismissed it as a trick of the headache. Determined, I grasped the cover and opened the book. I gasped.

On the first page was what appeared to be a drawing of the Goddess, which was unusual since depicting her, especially with a face, was traditionally forbidden. Yet here she was, rendered in all her divine glory.

She had white-silver hair, a flowing light blue dress, and silver eyes that reminded me of Octavia’s—only even more radiant. Her gaze was serious and deep, drawing me in so powerfully that I could hardly tear my eyes away.

Turning to the next page, I found some text written in the ancient language of the wolves. Unfortunately, no one could read it anymore. However, beneath the indecipherable script, Cecilia had provided a translation, which read:

The Book of Spirituals: The Goddess’s Favored Females.