Bound by the Moon

Chapter 20

The silence of Astrid's cell was thick and oppressive, a stark contrast to the chaotic noise of her mind. She sat on the cold stone floor, her back resting against the rough wall, and tried to steady her breathing. The trial had been a crucible, forging her into something stronger, but also something she didn't entirely understand. The power she had accessed was both a blessing and a curse, a force beyond her control and comprehension.

The cell was dimly lit, the light from a narrow barred window casting faint, uneven shadows that danced across the walls. Astrid's gaze was fixed on these shifting patterns, but her mind was elsewhere—lost in the labyrinth of the trial and the newfound strength she had unleashed. The shadows seemed to mock her, their movement a reminder of the turmoil within her. Each flicker of light was a testament to the struggle she had endured, a struggle that had left her both physically and emotionally drained.

Her body ached from the trials, bruised and battered. Every movement sent pangs of pain through her limbs, but she barely registered them. Her thoughts were consumed by the final trial—the Trial of the Soul—and the disturbing power that had surged through her. The memory of the trial's final moments played over and over in her mind like a haunting refrain, each repetition more vivid and unsettling than the last.

The power she had tapped into during the final trial was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It had been raw, untamed, and dangerously potent. She had used it to overcome a seemingly insurmountable obstacle, but now she was left grappling with the implications of its existence. It was a force that defied the bounds of her usual abilities, a power she wasn't supposed to have. And yet, it had saved her.

Her fingers traced the dried blood on her torn clothes, a grim reminder of the violence she had endured. She could still feel the weight of the stone altar beneath her hands, the cold, slick surface of the bloodstained altar. The battle with the manifestation of her inner demons had been brutal, and the power she had unleashed had been a revelation. She hadn't just fought the darkness; she had become something more, something both formidable and frightening.

The whispers of the trial still echoed in her mind, their taunts and accusations a lingering presence. They had been so real, so personal. The darkness had exploited her deepest fears and regrets, pushing her to the brink. And yet, she had fought back with a strength she hadn't known she possessed. The voices had accused her of failing Darius, of not being there when he needed her most. The guilt had been suffocating, the darkness almost too much to bear. But she had fought through it, using every ounce of willpower she had left.

The sound of a soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. The heavy, iron-bound door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. It was Elara, one of the senior members of the pack, her face a mask of inscrutable calm. Behind her stood two guards, their expressions impassive. The sight of Elara brought a flicker of apprehension to Astrid. Elara was known for her no-nonsense demeanor and strict adherence to the pack's traditions. If anyone was going to judge her harshly, it would be her.

"Astrid," Elara said, her voice soft but carrying an edge of authority. "The trials are over. It's time for you to come with us."

Astrid stood slowly, her legs feeling like lead. The effort of rising was almost too much, but she managed, her muscles protesting with every movement. Elara's gaze was steady, assessing, and Astrid wondered if she could see through the veneer of her calm. Her mind was still clouded with the remnants of the trial's emotional toll, but she knew she had to pull herself together. There was no room for weakness now.

"Where are we going?" Astrid asked, her voice rough from exhaustion.

"To the Council Chamber," Elara replied. "The pack leaders wish to discuss the results of your trials and your future with the pack."