Bound By Moonlight to My Mates (by Sofange Daye) novel Chapter 96

Aelara

We left the small village before the sun began to rise. I couldn’t stand to be there any longer. It reminded me. too much of the past, too much of what used to be.

Caleb walks quietly at my side, humming that damn hymn under his breath. It stirs too much emotion within me, but I bit back the urge to tell him to shut up.

The trees become scarce, and the hum of electricity replaces the hum of the forest.

I’ve walked through empires and ruins, but nothing feels as unnatural as this. Glass towers scraping the clouds, streets pulsing with light, people staring at glowing devices like they’re praying to invisible gods.

“Welcome to the city,” Caleb smirks when he sees the awe on my face.

To me, it’s another kind of temple. Only this one worships itself.

He moves through it easily, hood up, backpack slung over one shoulder. He fits here too well. I trail behind him, watching the way people glance at him, then at me. They see a man who looks like he belongs and a woman who doesn’t.

“You’re staring again,” he says, not looking back.

“I’m cataloging.”

He grins. “You make it sound like a crime scene.”

“Give it time.”

He laughs in that low, infuriating sound that always manages to make me forget what century I’m in. “Relax. We blend in fine.”

“I’m not used to blending.”

“That’s obvious.”

He stops at a corner convenience store, glass doors plastered with posters for missing pets and concerts. “Wait here. I’ll get us something to eat.”

“I don’t need…”

He points at me. “You’re pale, and you almost fell asleep standing up. That’s not divine poise, that’s low blood sugar.”

Before I can argue, he disappears inside.

I stay on the sidewalk, watching people rush past wearing suits and sneakers. They have coffee cups in their hands, earbuds in their ears. They don’t look at each other. They don’t look up. The stars are gone here,

swallowed by the light.

It has been decades, maybe longer, since I left the temple. Everything feels so strange. It feels like the end of the world, and no one noticed.

The door chimes behind me, and Caleb returns with a paper bag and a grin. “They had pretzels.”

“Pretzels?”

“It’s food. You eat them.” He hands me one.

I take it cautiously, studying the strange twisted bread. “It looks like something that’s already been chewed.”

He laughs, and for a second, the city noise fades. “Try it.”

I bite. Salt, butter, warmth. It’s… good. Too good. My body remembers hunger before my pride does.

He watches me, amused. “See? Told you.”

“I hate when you’re right.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

We walk again, weaving through crowds. Every face is a stranger, but every stranger looks vaguely familiar. That’s the curse of eternity; eventually, you see echoes of everyone you’ve lost.

A flicker of movement catches my eye, someone watching us from across the street. A man in a dark coat with his hood pulled low. His presence is wrong. Still, the air around him ripples faintly with old magic.

“Caleb,” I murmur.

“I see him.”

We turn down a side street, pace quickening. The city’s noise muffles behind us, replaced by dripping pipes and the hum of neon. The alley smells of metal and rain.

“Keep walking,” I whisper.

But the air shivers. The man steps out of the shadow ahead of us, and two more emerge behind.

“Zealots,” I breathe.

Caleb stiffens. “Here?”

“Apparently, they’ve adapted.”

The leader’s voice scrapes the air. “Daughter of the Moon,” he hisses. “You walk among the living again.”

“Not for long if you don’t move,” I reply.

He smiles. It is jagged and wrong. “You broke the balance once. We’ll restore it.”

He raises his hand. A faint glow ignites in his palm, the same twisted silver energy that once belonged to my sisters. Stolen. Corrupted.

I react before he can strike. The air ripples as I summon the shadow, but it’s weaker here, dulled by concrete and steel. My magic wasn’t meant for this world.

Caleb steps in front of me, drawing the knife he carries. “Stay behind me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Humor me for once.”

He lunges as the zealot swings. The other two rush from behind, and I move without thought, catching one by the throat, slamming him into the wall. Shadows burst from my fingers, dissolving him into ash.

The second claws at me, chanting words older than the moon. My power falters under the echo of the Goddess’s name. For a heartbeat, I see Her face again, silver eyes, endless disappointment.

Then Caleb’s voice cuts through it. “Aelara!”

He’s bleeding again. His knife is lodged in the zealot’s chest, but a wound blooms across his arm, deep and red.

The last zealot flees. Coward.

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