Chapter 2 - The Secret My Mother Buried Beneath Our Ranch Had Nothing to Do With My Family’s DebtI left Blackpine before sunrise.
Not through the grand gates.
Not with guards.
Through the old service tunnel beneath the east stable.
I had discovered it six months after moving into the keep when one of the younger maids accidentally mentioned a “forgotten passage.” Declan had laughed when I asked about it.
“Old castles have old stories,” he had said.
I should have recognized then that he had given me a half-truth.
The tunnel opened beyond the northern tree line.
Snow covered the ground.
I walked carefully.
Eight months pregnant meant nothing about my body worked the way it used to. My back hurt. My ankles were swollen. Every few minutes my son shifted hard enough to make me stop.
But I kept moving.
I needed answers.
And I knew where to find the first one.
Cedar Ridge.
My father's ranch.
By the time I arrived, the sky was turning gray.
Dad was in the barn.
The moment he saw me, his face changed.
“Avery?”
He rushed toward me.
“What are you doing here?”
I wanted to throw myself into his arms.
Instead I asked, “Did you know what Mom was hiding?”
He stopped.
That was all I needed.
“You did.”
He looked away.
“Your mother made me promise.”
“Promise what?”
“That I would never tell you unless the Crown came for you.”
My stomach turned.
“The Crown already came.”
Dad's face went pale.
“What happened?”
I told him everything.
Not every detail.
I couldn't bear saying some of the words aloud.
But enough.
When I finished, my father sat down heavily on a hay bale.
For a long moment he said nothing.
Then he whispered, “Genevieve.”
“You know she's alive.”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
The betrayal was almost as painful as hearing Declan.
“Dad.”
“I didn't know she was alive. Not until six months ago.”
“Then who did you think she was?”
“A prisoner.”
I stared at him.
“Whose prisoner?”
“The First Council.”
My father looked toward the stable doors.
Then he lowered his voice.
“Your mother was born into the Hale line that guarded the original Moonstone.”
I frowned.
“Moonstone?”
“Not a rock. A bloodline relic.”
He went to an old wooden chest.
I had seen that chest since childhood.
He unlocked it.
Inside lay old photographs, documents, medals, and a wrapped package.
He opened the package.
A knife.
Its handle bore the seven-star symbol.
“The Hale women were healers,” Dad said. “But not ordinary healers. They could strengthen or suppress certain bloodline gifts.”
“Suppress?”
“Your blood can activate royal power. That's why your mother hid you.”
I remembered the note.
Hales were never meant to kneel.
“Why did she let me marry Declan?”
“I didn't.”
“You tried to stop me.”
“Because I knew the moment he learned who you were, he'd come for you.”
I stared at him.
“You're saying Declan knew?”
“I believe so.”
Everything fit.
The strange blood tests.
The physician appointments Declan insisted on.
The herbs Beatrice had given me during pregnancy.
The way palace healers had measured my pulse, my temperature, even the color of my eyes.
I had thought they were being careful because I was carrying the heir.
But they had been studying me.
Dad placed an old ledger on the table.
Inside were names.
Hale women.
Beside each name was a date.
Most ended abruptly.
I read one.
Evelyn Hale.
Then another.
Margaret Hale.
Then another.
My mother's name.
Elena Hale.
There was a note beside hers.
Escaped.
My throat tightened.
“She survived.”
“For a while.”
I looked at him.
“What happened?”
“She died protecting you.”
My world tilted.
“Mom died because of me?”
“No.”
Dad's eyes filled.
“She died because people like Declan wanted what was in your blood.”
I closed the ledger.
“No.”
“Avery—”
“No. He loved me.”
The words sounded pathetic even to me.
Dad's expression softened.
“Did he?”
I remembered the hallway.
If that is the cost, we pay it.
My father's question remained between us.
Then something in the barn changed.
A horse whinnied.
Dad stood.
“Someone is here.”
I turned.
A figure appeared beyond the stable doors.
A woman.
Tall.
Dark hair.
Wearing a white coat.
My heart stopped.
She stepped into the barn.
And I knew her immediately.
Genevieve Mercer.
She looked almost exactly like the portrait.
Except the portrait showed a laughing young woman.
This Genevieve looked exhausted.
Older.
Broken.
“Avery,” she whispered.
I stepped back.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about me?”
Genevieve nodded.
“For five years.”
The room felt too small.
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“I couldn't.”
“Couldn't?”
“I was imprisoned.”
“By whom?”
She looked toward the door.
“Declan.”
The words stunned me.
I shook my head.
“No.”
Genevieve's eyes filled.
“He told everyone I died.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought I knew too much.”
I stared at her.
Then she said the sentence that changed everything.
“Declan didn't marry you to kill you because he loved me.”
She stepped closer.
“He married you because I was never his mate.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“Five years ago, during the rebellion, the Council needed someone with ancient blood to activate the Crown.”
Genevieve's voice trembled.
“They believed I had it.”
“But you didn't.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You do.”
Silence filled the barn.
My son moved beneath my ribs.
Genevieve looked at my stomach.
“He isn't simply the heir.”
“What is he?”
“The first true Moon Prince in three hundred years.”
I laughed.
It sounded hysterical.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It will.”
She reached into her coat.
And pulled out a black ledger.
Declan's royal seal was stamped across the cover.
“I stole this before they moved me.”
She handed it to me.
I opened it.
The first page contained my full name.
Avery Elena Hale.
Under it was one word.
Selection.
The next pages detailed my pregnancy.
My blood levels.
My physical responses.
My expected death during the eclipse.
Then I saw the final page.
There was a second name.
Elias Cross-Hale.
Beside it was a note.
After extraction, child to be transferred to Genevieve Mercer.
I closed the book.
My hands shook.
Genevieve whispered, “I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not escaping sooner.”
I looked at her.
“Then help me now.”
She nodded.
“I will.”
Outside, wolves began howling.
Dad walked to the barn window.
“Too late.”
“What?”
“Royal trackers.”
I stood.
“We have maybe twenty minutes.”
Genevieve looked at me.
“Then we run.”
Dad grabbed his rifle.
I touched my belly.
My son kicked once.
Hard.
I smiled.
For the first time since 2:13 in the morning, I felt something besides fear.
I felt certainty.
Declan Cross had built an empire on obedience.
May you like
He had mistaken my silence for submission.
Now he was going to learn the difference.
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