CHAPTER 66: THE PERFECT NAME

Kaya

I’m restless again. I try to keep myself busy with daily tasks, but no matter what I do, this nagging anxiety clings to me like a shadow. It feels as if I’m merely passing time, waiting for something important—though I have no idea what—to finally happen.

Impatience grows inside me, thick and heavy.

My restlessness draws me back to the mansion’s library, and once again, I find the room completely empty. Sometimes I wonder why it was built and furnished at all when no one ever seems to use it.

But then again, maybe I shouldn’t complain. Somehow, this place feels like mine—my own private island, my fortress, my sanctuary. And in this quiet refuge, I feel safe.

The thought brings a faint smile to my lips. Encouraged by the small relief of this positivity, I kindle the fireplace, spread my books and journals across the table, wrap a warm quilt around my shoulders, and curl into a comfortable chair, ready to settle into my usual routine.

Yet, somehow, I hesitate.

Today, an unusual loneliness settles over me. Oliver is out patrolling the territory, while Samantha is on a mission to find the perfect dress for the upcoming party. She invited me to come along, but I didn’t feel like shopping.

If I’m being completely honest, I don’t want to think about that party at all. Maybe I should just skip it altogether. It would probably be rude as hell, but I don’t think I can face Magnus and that woman again.

They will probably be together. They will probably be dancing. They will probably be close—intimately close––

"Moonlight?"

Great. I’m so lost in thoughts of him that I can actually hear his voice now. How obsessed have I become?

"Moonlight?"

There it is again—that low, soft, comforting voice that never fails to reignite the warmth buried deep inside my heart. I love it when he calls me that. I always thought I hated pet names, but not this one. This one feels different—strangely sincere and thoughtful. It’s not just an empty word tossed around to feign affection. No, it feels private. Intimate.

It makes sense.

"Are you asleep?"

Suddenly, I jerk awake, the quilt slipping from my shoulders as my body reacts on instinct. My eyes snap open wide; my heart pounds in my throat, drumming so loud I can barely hear the man sitting beside me speak.

"Did I scare you?" Magnus asks gently, lifting the quilt and wrapping it back around me. I don’t move—I’m not even sure I remember how. All I can do is stare at him blankly, probably without even blinking.

"I was told you’ve been spending a lot of time in the library," he smiles, ignoring my daze. "But I didn’t realize it was literally a lot."

I’m truly grateful for that—his calm, his kindness cutting through my stupor like a lifeline.

"I just—" I hear myself croak suddenly, voice barely above a whisper, "I like to read. I always have. And there are so many books here..."

Magnus scoffs softly, but there’s no mockery in his tone. His bright eyes roam over the scattered books I had set aside, his brows arching in genuine surprise. "Are you planning to read all of this today? And what’s with the notebook? Are you taking notes?"

A sudden flush creeps up my cheeks, warm and embarrassing. I hastily try to close the notebook, but his hand is quicker—effortlessly, he snatches it from my loose grip and pulls it toward him. I’m frozen, caught off guard by that mischievous smile of his, which always seems to render me helpless.

"What are these?" he asks after scanning the bookmarked pages. "Names?"

I feel like I might actually combust right now. Swallowing hard, I snatch the notebook back, pushing it farther away on the table, pouting like a scolded child.

"They’re... well, what if I manage to connect with my wolf eventually?" I can’t quite suppress the awkwardness in my voice, but somehow I can’t stop myself from explaining. "Every wolf has a name. I want one for mine, too."

For a long moment, Magnus stays completely silent, his handsome face unreadable as he watches me. I shrink deeper beneath the quilt, bracing for the wave of mockery I’m certain will come. But once again, he surprises me.

"My wolf’s name is Athan," he says quietly, a faint, almost wistful smile curling at the corners of his lips. "I didn’t choose it. He did."

Somehow, that remark puts me at ease, and before I even realize it, a soft smile has spread across my lips. "What does it mean? The name."

Magnus leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a moment to gather his thoughts. Then, a smile tugs at his mouth—quiet, almost to himself—and Goddess be my witness, if I were made of ice cream, I would have already melted into a puddle.

"Have you ever heard of the Moonrise Kingdom?" he asks. I shake my head immediately, having never come across it.

"The Legend of the Moonrise Kingdom tells the story of the greatest Wolf King of all time—Athan—and a cursed yet incredibly powerful Moon wolfress named Rana. The tale is filled with countless adventures, but its heart lies in the tragic love story between Athan and Rana."

"Oh?" I lean forward slightly, drawn in by the promise of a great love story—tragic or otherwise. "What happened between them?"

Magnus’s smile deepens, but it’s not arrogant or distant; it’s warm, gentle, inviting—something that makes me feel like I’m being let into a secret.

"Athan wasn’t originally from the Moonrise Kingdom," he begins, inclining his body closer to mine, bridging the space between us. "He was transported there by mistake, and it was there that he met Rana, the kingdom’s only princess and future queen. Naturally, they fell in love. But her cruel father tore them apart, banishing Athan and sealing the bridge between their worlds forever."

"Athan spent his entire life clawing for a way back to Rana. When he finally did, the Moonrise Kingdom lay in ruins, and Rana was no longer alive. In his despair, he prayed to the Moon Goddess for release—an end to his suffering—unaware that Rana had begged the goddess to let her be reborn once Athan returned.

It seemed as if... they were never meant to be together."

He pauses, and I feel the urge to look away as tears begin to well up in my eyes. "They were like Romeo and Juliet," I whisper, clearing my throat halfway to mask the tremor in my voice.

Magnus nods, offering a faint, almost wistful smile. "I don’t know why my wolf chose that name. Maybe he’s resigned to never finding happiness."

A soft chuckle escapes me, but before I can respond, Magnus’s smart watch dings sharply, pulling him abruptly to his feet.

"It’s Aksel," he says curtly. "I need to meet the patrol team for a report."

"Al-lright," I reply, stumbling slightly, a hollow emptiness settling over me as I watch him stride toward the door.

Just as I reach for my books again, his footsteps halt, and his voice—calm but tinged with unexpected sadness—stops me cold. "Rana... I think that name suits your wolf perfectly."