The Luna they betrayed became Untouchable

Chapter 35: Chapter 35

The Underveil Market wasn’t somewhere Celine had ever pictured herself in. It wasn’t a place she’d ever imagined she would step foot in—not until now.

She had heard stories, of course. Tales told in whispers, warnings that stuck to her head about the Underveil Market. She had always believed herself above such things. She was the Luna of Valemont. She had power. She had status. She had everything she had ever wanted.

But now, standing right by the entrance, staring at the marketplace, Celine knew one thing: she wasn’t different.

Celine pulled the hood over her head as her maid, Mira, tugged her hand slightly. "Luna, we have to go in now."

"Stay close," she murmured to Mira, her voice barely audible over the hum of activity around them. "And don’t look anyone in the eye longer than you must."

The alley opened into something far larger than it had any right to be—a sprawl of stalls and tents beneath a canopy of hanging lanterns, their light bruised and uneven. The air smelled of ash and something sweeter underneath.

A woman with hollow eyes beckoned from a shadowed doorway. "Come, my Lady. I have what you seek."

Celine walked faster.

A man with scarred hands held out a vial of dark liquid. "A taste of truth, my Lady? See what others hide?"

She shook her head, pressing forward.

"You mustn’t look anyone in the eye here, my Lady," Mira said again.

Celine’s heart thumped hard in her chest. She’d left the pack in the middle of the night after lying to Varek that she had more women’s duties to attend to and wouldn’t sleep early tonight. She had two hours to be done here.

"Mira," she called, and the maid paused, turning to look at her. "Yes, Luna?"

"You know what I need. Take me to where to find it. I don’t want to waste time around here."

Mira nodded, her eyes darting nervously through the crowd. "This way, my Lady. But I must warn you—the one who deals in such things... he is not like the others. He sees too much... things you do not want to be seen." She whispered the last part.

Celine’s jaw tightened. This was the darkest thing she’d ever done. "I don’t care what he sees. I care about what he has."

Mira led her through a maze of narrow passages, each one darker and more cramped than the last. Celine kept her head straight, ignoring the calls of other witches as she was led.

Finally, Mira stopped before a stall draped in black velvet. Candles burned with an unnatural flame. A figure sat behind the counter—hooded, with eyes that seemed to dart around.

"The Luna of Valemont," he said, his voice a low rasp. "I was wondering when you would come."

Celine froze, her gaze snapping toward Mira. "Have you told him of my plans to come here?" she asked.

"N-no, never, my Lady," Mira stammered.

"Celine Davenport, first daughter of Alpha Phil of the Celestial Pack. Married to Varek Valemont, the bastard." The man’s eyes snapped open.

"Quiet your voice." Celine gritted out, ignoring the clear smirk on the man’s face. She stepped into the tent now.

"It’s obvious you know what you speak of."

The man grinned. "Of course I do. Didn’t your maid tell you where you’re coming to exactly?"

"I know what this place is," Celine said, her voice steadier than she felt. "I didn’t come for pleasantries."

"No," the man agreed, amused. "None of you ever do." His eyes—too pale, too knowing—swept over her once, cataloguing something she couldn’t guess at. "Sit, if you’d like. Or don’t. The market doesn’t much care for manners."

Celine remained standing. "I was told you could help me."

"Everyone who walks through that curtain believes that." He tilted his head. "Would you like to see something first? Before you ask for anything at all?"

"See what?"

"What’s coming." He went very still. "Some prefer to know before they act. Others prefer not to. Which are you, Luna?"

Celine hesitated. She should have said no. Every instinct told her to say no.

"Show me," she said instead.

The man smirked. "Stretch out your hands," he said, and she did. He placed his hands over hers and shut his eyes while Celine watched like he was about to perform a miracle.

He slowly began to whisper things. Celine watched intensely as the table began to vibrate and his chants grew louder. Suddenly her eyes snapped shut, and just like that, she was transported into a different place.

She was back in the Valemont estate, but in a different time. The Valemont estate—her home—every hall she’d walked for eleven years had changed.

Newer banners hung from above. The Valemont crest stitched beside another she didn’t recognize at first, until she did, and her stomach turned over once she saw the name on it.

Evelyn’s sigil.

The hall was full. Servants, warriors, Alphas from packs Celine recognized bowed before the raised dais at the far end of the room. And there, seated where Varek’s chair had stood for as long as Celine had been Luna, sat Evelyn.

Celine searched the crowd, desperate, frantic, looking for one face among the hundreds bowed low.

Varek was nowhere. He wasn’t standing beside Evelyn. Not seated at her side. Not anywhere in the hall at all, as though the vision itself had simply forgotten he’d ever existed.

"No," Celine whispered, though no one in the vision could hear her. "No, this isn’t—"

The image rippled, and just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

Celine gasped, her hands flying back from the man’s grip as though burned. Her chest heaved heavily, sweat beading along her hairline despite the cold of the tent.

The man watched her, something like delight flickering behind his eyes.

"Ah," he said softly. "There it is. That look." He leaned back, clearly savoring it. "I do so enjoy that look."

"Is it real?" Celine’s voice came out small, cracked at the edges. "Is that truly what’s coming?"

"Visions show what could be. Not what will be." He spread his hands, almost apologetic, though nothing in his expression matched the gesture. "The future isn’t so obliging as to hand itself over whole." He tilted his head. "But tell me, Luna. Does it feel far from possible?"

Celine said nothing, because it didn’t. It didn’t feel far from possible at all. And that scared her the most.

"What do you want, Luna Celine?" the man asked.

Celine stared at him, gulping hard. "I want to take someone away," Celine said. "Someone who’s taken root somewhere she doesn’t belong."

"Ah." The man grinned, gesturing toward the curtain at the back of the tent. "I believe I have just the thing. Follow me."

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