His Forsaken Luna-Chapter 108: The Children (1)

The scent of blood and unwashed bodies mingled in the air as we entered the infirmary. It was warmer than usual, with the hearth blazing fiercely to combat the relentless winter outside. Rows of beds stretched before me, each one filled with wide-eyed, hollow-cheeked children wrapped in thick blankets that still seemed inadequate to their needs. Their small frames shivered—whether from cold or fear, I couldn’t tell.

"I’m still hungry," one whispered, his voice hoarse and barely audible. His words spread through the room like a ripple on still water, echoed by others: "Hungry." "We’re still hungry."

Servants bustled around with trays of bread, broth, and whatever scraps the kitchen could spare on short notice. Even as they ate, their eyes darted nervously to the corners of the room, as though expecting something terrible to lunge from the shadows.

They took notice of us at the entrance, the Alphas’ sheer size made them shrink back except for a few that gingerly stepped forward, acting as their protectors though they were nothing more than skin and bones themselves, the fear evident in their eyes, but courage also coursed through them. It was heart breaking to see.

Alaric stepped forward, his broad shoulders taut with tension. His golden hair caught the firelight, making him appear every inch the Alpha King he was supposed to be. And yet, the furrow in his brow betrayed his unease.

He was a large Were but upon observing the new intruder to the infirmary, those protecting the others relaxed a little noticing it was Alaric. They must have seen him at the attack and concluded he was the reason they were here being taken care of.

"They’re so young," I murmured, unable to keep the tremor from my voice, unable to comprehend what they must have gone through.

We’d been attacked the same night but I didn’t see a being rip another’s heart from their chest, or drain the blood from their body. Shadows lingered in their eyes, dark circles ringing them.

Eryx strode forward and lighten his loud steps when the children flinched and clutched at their bedsheets to their chests like the blanket might hide them from any potential danger. Alaric gestured towards a servant and he rushed forward, bowing his head.

"Ask your questions," Alaric said to Eryx.

"What wounds have they suffered?" Eryx asked as I couldn’t help but search for the boy I’d ’seen’ the night before.

I listened as the servant reported only a few had bruises and cuts but they were old, not from the attack. Many were suffering with a fever without any signs of illness. There was also one thing he had taken note of. It was something almost unseen.

My arms crossed over my chest as I followed the men to one of the beds. "Please show us your wrist," the servant asked softly as he lowered to the ground to speak to the girl in bed. She gingerly looked up at us then pulled back her blanket and upturned her hand.

I looked at her wrist and frowned. There was nothing there. Eryx placed his hand on my lower back and urged me closer. "Look closer." Damn my terrible sight.

I smiled softly at the girl and her shoulders relaxed as she openly gawked at me while I focused on her wrist. To the right of the blueish-green veins was a small marking in white against her pale skin. It almost looked like and old scar if not for the slightly raised skin.

It was tiny but evidentially looked like a drawing of the sun. "All of them have the same marking."

"What does it mean?" I questioned, pulling back from the girl who was still watching me wide-eyed.

"Unfortunately we do now know. We asked them how long they have had the mark for, believing it might be a mark from a slave owner. They all claim that they never had the mark before the attack."

"They could be lying," Alaric grumbled. I glared at him.

"It cannot be," Eryx spoke up then, following Alaric’s line of thought. "Slaves are branded by hot iron. It doesn’t look like that."

I nod in agreement, aware Theo didn’t have that mark. Not everyone branded their slaves like that.

"How have they acted?" Eryx continued his questions. "Besides scared."

The servant looked at him. "Are you searching for something in particular?"

I moved away from the conversation, aware Eryx will tell me everything after. What did he think happened to these children? Both he and Cohnal had acted like we should be cautious of them.

Unable to look away from them all, I offered smiles and attempted to speak with them but they were all wary or openly stared at me in wonder. I’m not really sure what they saw but I continued down the rows.

My gaze swept over the faces until it landed on one in particular. A boy, no older than twelve, sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers clutching a piece of bread so tightly it crumbled. His dark eyes stared blankly ahead, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far away.

My breath hitched. It was him. The boy from last night. The one who had called to me, luring me out of bed and into the snow. But now, there was no recognition in his gaze, no flicker of acknowledgment. Just emptiness.

I took a hesitant step toward him, but Eryx’s hand caught my arm. "Don’t," he warned, his voice low.

My gaze narrowed on him. "What do you think he will do? He doesn’t recognise me."

Eryx frowned. "Recognise you? Why would he..." He trailed off and realised why I was here. His head turned back to look at the boy. "Is that him?"

I nod warily. "Yes."

Eryx tilted his head, observing him. "If he was in the woods last night he would have died."

"What’s this?" Alaric caught up to us. I shook off Eryx’s hand, though I didn’t move any closer to the boy.

"What will happen to them?" I asked, not wishing to speak of what happened last night. My voice was quiet as I looked back at my brother.

Alaric’s jaw tightened. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The ones who can’t work will stay here until they’re strong enough. The rest..." He hesitated, his eyes flicking to the nearest servant before returning to me. "We’ll send them to the fields or the fishing villages. They’ll have a roof over their heads and food to eat. It’s more than they had in the slums."

I bristled at his words, though I couldn’t deny their truth. Still, the thought of these children—so fragile, so frightened—being sent away to toil in the dirt or haul nets in icy waters made my stomach churn. They were all so young and lost their parents, saw a massacre among other things.

"That’s not enough," I said, my voice firmer now. "They deserve a chance to be more than just labourers. Send them to the academy. Let them learn."

Alaric’s laugh was sharp and humourless. "You think the nobles would stand for that? Sharing their precious academy with a bunch of slum rats?" He shook his head. "They’d riot before the first lesson began."

"Then let them riot," I shot back. "You’re their King, Alaric. You could make them understand."

"It’s not that simple, Idalia," he said, his voice rising in frustration. "The academy was built for the noble houses. It’s a privilege they pay for, and they won’t give it up lightly. Besides, these children..." He gestured to the room. "They’re survivors, not scholars. They need structure, stability, not books and lectures."

"And who decided that?" I challenged. "You? The nobles? Or the Goddess herself? Not everyone in that academy is coming out as a scholar. There are warriors and knights as well."

Alaric’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, we stood in tense silence. Then he exhaled, his shoulders slumping. "You have a good heart, sister. But you’re naive if you think the world works that way." 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Before I could respond, a commotion broke out near the far end of the room. One of the younger boys had dropped his bowl of broth, and the sound had startled the others. They huddled together, their eyes wide with fear, as though expecting punishment.

I moved toward them without thinking, my skirts swishing against the cold stone floor. "It’s all right," I said gently, kneeling to pick up the bowl. "No one’s angry. It was just an accident."

The boy stared at me, his lip trembling. He couldn’t have been older than six, his frame so thin it looked like a stiff breeze might break him. I offered him a reassuring smile, though my heart ached at the sight of him.

"See?" I said, holding up the bowl. "No harm done. Let’s get you another serving, shall we?"

As I handed the bowl to a passing servant, I felt a pair of eyes boring into me. Turning, I found the boy from last night watching me. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his gaze that made my skin prickle—a flicker of recognition, perhaps, or something darker.

Eryx’s hand was on my shoulder before I could dwell on it. "You shouldn’t get too close," he said quietly.

I frowned at his words. "They’re just children," I replied, though my voice lacked conviction as I stared back at the Alpha Prince.

"We don’t know why they were left behind" he reminded me. "Don’t forget that."

I looked back at the boy, but his gaze had shifted to the floor. If he did remember me, he wasn’t showing it. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something—something important.

"What if they’re not given a choice?" I said softly, more to myself than to Eryx.

He didn’t answer, but the weight of his silence spoke volumes. I straightened, brushing off my skirts, and turned to face Alaric.

"They deserve more than survival, Alaric," I said. "They deserve a chance to thrive."

"And I’ll do what I can to give them that," he replied. "But it has to be realistic. Practical. If Eryx is wary of them, I will be too. Until I know for sure they are stable, they will stay at the palace, given their own quarter."

I nodded. "I understand that. Please think about what I said."

I wanted to demand more, but the exhaustion in Alaric’s eyes stopped me. He wasn’t heartless—far from it. He carried the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders, and I couldn’t add to that burden. Not now.