Chapter 587

I had deciphered it. Line by line, symbol by symbol. When I had questions, I wrote letters — old-fashioned, paper letters — to the address etched inside the cover.

Healer Sterling had written back.

He had been searching for an apprentice for years. Someone who could read the old texts, who understood that healing was not merely about herbs and incantations, but about history and restoration. He had found me. And I had found a purpose beyond being a Luna.

Now, it was time to use it.

“The Vance family prides itself on its medical contributions,” I said, my voice calm, clear, and ringing with absolute authority. “But your monopoly on Moon-Cress is nothing more than second-rate commercial farming. You peddle weeds to the masses. True healing is an ancient art, Seraphina — one your family knows absolutely nothing about.”

Seraphina’s face flushed a furious, ugly red. “How dare you—”

Before she could finish, I reached into my clutch and drew out a simple, unadorned brooch carved from pure moonstone. I pinned it to the bodice of my gown.

For a moment, there was only confusion. Then the scraping of a chair echoed loudly across the marble.

Elder Augusta Marshall rose from her table, her hands trembling. The revered matriarch stared at my chest, her eyes wide with absolute shock and profound reverence.

“By the Goddess,” Elder Augusta breathed, her voice carrying through the dead silence of the ballroom. “That is the Sigil of the Moon’s Disciple. Healer Sterling announced his apprentice six months ago — a mysterious figure known only as ‘the Restorer.’ No one knew who it was. Until now.”

Whispers erupted like wildfire among the older generation.

“It cannot be,” an Alpha from the Silver Creek Pack muttered, stepping forward. “That sigil is only granted by the legendary Healer Sterling of the Whispering Peaks. He hasn’t taken an apprentice in decades.”

“Only a disciple who has mastered the deepest, most ancient bloodline knowledge is permitted to wear it,” Elder Augusta confirmed, her gaze locked on me with newfound awe.

I turned my attention away from the sputtering, speechless Seraphina. Facing Elder Augusta, I lowered my head and executed a flawless, ancient bow of respect — a gesture known only to the highest echelons of traditional Pack healers.

“It is an honor to see you again, Elder Augusta,” I said smoothly.

Seraphina Vance stood frozen, her face drained entirely of color. The smug superiority she had worn moments ago shattered into a thousand pieces as the entire ballroom stared at me — realizing at last that they were not looking at a broken, wolfless girl, but at a master of ancient authority.

Adella POV

Elder Augusta’s words hung in the dead silence of the Pierre Hotel ballroom, her reverent gaze fixed on the moonstone brooch pinned to my gown. Whispers rippled through the elite crowd like wildfire, every eye shifting from shock to awe. Seraphina Vance stood frozen, her face drained of color, her smug venom shattered.

Then she broke entirely.