Page 63 of A Luna’s Dynasty (Celestial #1)

“Lita, I won’t ask you not to fight, but please be careful.” Asher stared into her eyes, wishing he could lock her away and protect her. She might be capable, but he had experienced loss before. Losing her would kill him.

Before she could answer, the first scream ripped through the air.

It wasn't an animal cry, or the guttering howl of a wolf.

It was a parent, somewhere out in the yard, screaming like her soul was being torn out.

Instinct jerked Lita forward, but Asher caught her by the wrist, eyes already scanning for threats.

Grayson stepped outside first, and then they followed.

Two women came stumbling through the woods, both clutching limp children in their arms. The little bodies hung slack, heads lolling. A third parent followed, wailing as she half-dragged, half-carried a boy who was completely unconscious.

Lita’s healer brain kicked in, overriding everything else. She broke from Asher and sprinted forward, nearly colliding with the first woman. The girl in her arms was pale as snow, lips tinged blue. Her breathing was thin and wet, chest barely moving.

"What happened?" Lita demanded, snatching the child and laying her across the ground. She checked for bite marks, puncture wounds, and bruises. Nothing.

The mother shook so badly she could hardly speak. "She just—she was playing—and then she went still. I—I don’t know what’s wrong—"

A fresh chorus of cries erupted behind her as more pack members swarmed in. Every armful was a child. Every child was limp, feverish, or dead weight.

“Take them straight to the infirmary!” Lita ordered as she checked the little girl’s pupils by lifting her eyelids.

“Take her to the infirmary, too.” She then looked at another child that was being held by his mother—a boy with flushed cheeks and trembling limbs.

There were no marks. No obvious scent of poison or curse.

She checked his pupils as well, finding them wide and unresponsive.

"Neurotoxin," she muttered. "But how—" Just then a loud howl cut through the air from the northern border. The demon wolves were heading for their pack. She looked at Asher and then at Grayson. “Keep him safe for me. I’ll stay here and take care of the children.”

“I’ll stay with Lita.” Caspian jogged over in a hurry. “I put up a small barrier, but it won’t hold.”

“Lita.” Asher stared at her as she nodded. They didn’t need to say anything. It was there. All their emotions, all their love, flowed inside the other.

Grayson cracked his neck to the side and winked at Caden. “You said you wanted to see me fight seriously. Well, now’s your chance.”

“Wishes do come true.” He laughed, but the smile didn’t reach his face. Fighting would mean wounded and losses, no matter how strong they were.

“There’s no time to waste. Quickly.” Asher stepped toward Lita, grabbing her by the back of the neck and kissing her hard enough to bruise. “I’ll be back.”

He then shifted mid-jump, sprinting to the north border, Caden at his flank.

Grayson looked at Lita for a moment, feeling pulled in two different directions.

But Lita was at the heart of pack territory, the very center.

No demon wolves could get to her, so she would be safe.

He winked at her, and then he was gone. Muscles became fur as he roared, disappearing in the woods.

Lita watched them go, chest aching, then turned back to her patients. “Quickly, to the infirmary. Caspian, grab my extra bag inside and have Kristen come to help.”

“On it!”

She raced into the infirmary. Children were scattered across the floor with crying mothers next to them, pleading for help. Lita tuned it out. She pressed her palm to the first girl's forehead, and an energy radiated from her palm—her fairy magic, searching inside the girl for answers.

A sickly, oily presence slithered along the child's nerves. It was so subtle, so carefully hidden, that it barely registered at first. But the more she pushed, the colder it got—a chill that bit deeper than any poison.

"Shit," she whispered. "It's not natural."

“What do you mean?” Caspian was next to her as Kristen made her way to every child, giving them blankets.

"There's magic here," Lita said. "Something is masking the poison."

A fresh blast of energy pulsed through the room. It was like being dunked in ice water—everyone with a wolf inside them snapped to attention as a deep voice crashed through their minds.

It was Garrett from the perimeter. They’re here! Warriors, hold your positions. Our alpha is on his way!

The link cut off abruptly. He must have realized in his haste he’d addressed the entire pack. Lita focused on the task in front of her to keep her mind off the battle.

She swept through the rows of bodies, blue fire running from her fingers into their veins. Kristen and Caspian worked beside her, passing supplies, monitoring pulses, keeping the crowd back.

Every child was the same. No wounds, no infection, just an invisible force grinding their systems to a halt.

She needed more information. She needed to see what the hell she was fighting. And how the heck was this administered to all the children?!

"You okay?" Caspian asked, keeping his voice low.

"No. I don’t know what this is. " Lita pursed her lips, focused on drawing a child’s blood, not looking up. "But I need you to run a sample. Put this in the machine I brought. If we can figure out the structure—"

"On it," he said, already moving.

She leaned over the last child, a toddler with a head of curly brown hair and a smile painted on his shirt. He wasn't breathing. She pressed her ear to his chest—heart still thudding, slow but present.

"Lita!" Kristen called from the other end of the room. "We’re losing this one!"

Lita snapped to her feet and ran, her hands glowing as she poured every ounce of her magic into the unconscious girl. She felt the resistance instantly. It was a wall of darkness, thicker now, fighting back.

But her fairy magic was there, burning in her fingers, and she pushed harder.

The darkness buckled, then burst, shattering like glass. The girl coughed, color surging back into her cheeks. Lita almost collapsed from the rush of power, but she managed to keep her composure. She checked the girl over, but whatever had a hold of her still hadn’t let go.

There was a crash outside, followed by a stampede of centaurs rushing to the northern border. These were warriors who were positioned at the southern perimeter, which meant the fight at the north was bad.

Caspian ran back in the room and Lita looked up at him. “Well?”

“It was dark. The color that it projected was black.”

“Damn … it isn’t just any neurotoxin. This is dark, vile magic. Caspian, can you see anything?”

Caspian bent over the nearest kid, expression hardening. He pressed his palm lightly to the boy’s forehead, closed his eyes, and concentrated. After a moment, he exhaled, eyes flicking open.

"I get nothing," he said. "Whatever this is, it’s shielded well. Like the magic is sewn up inside them."

"Can you break the shield?" Lita asked, desperation creeping into her tone.

Caspian shook his head. "Not directly. If I push, I might hurt them. But you could—" he broke off, staring at her hands. "You’re stronger than I am, Lita. And your fire burns hotter."

Lita stared at her own palms, at the faint blue light already kindling there.

"I can try," she said, not even sure who she was talking to.

She grabbed a fresh syringe, drew blood from the limp girl's arm, and held the vial to the light. The liquid was a deep crimson, but something about it seemed … off. A thin swirl of darker red spiraled in the center, like ink in water.

She set the vial on the table, closed her eyes, and summoned the fairy magic. It answered instantly, a flood of warmth roaring up from her core. Her eyes burned, vision going blurry for a second as the room melted away.

It was as if she were inside the blood. She could see the cells, the little armies of white and red, the tiny rivers carrying life everywhere they could.

But something was wrong. Tiny shards of black—almost invisible—spun through the plasma, slicing into the cells as they passed.

Each time one hit, a ripple of ice radiated outward, shutting down everything it touched.

Lita followed the trail, chasing the cold until she found the source. A twisted coil of magic, blacker than shadow, knotted in the heart of the blood. It pulsed with hate. With purpose.

She focused on it, imagining her fire like a blade. She sliced through the coil, watched as it shriveled and died, the cold melting away.

When she came back to herself, the vial was glowing faintly.

The darkness inside had curled up and vanished.

She exhaled, wiped her brow, and turned to Caspian.

“This was ingested. Kristen, find out what they all ate. We need to know the source. Caspian, if we can break the spell, we can cure them.”

"Lita! Please—she's not breathing—"

"Over here, he's turning blue—"

"My son—my son—"

It was as if it was attacking them all at once. Trying to end the entire line of children from the pack.

Lita was desperate. If there ever was a time for her to use her powers, this was it.

They all needed to be purified. There was no point in being this strong fairy princess if all she could do was watch them die.

She searched deep inside herself. She mentally wrapped her fingers around the thread, feeling it vibrate like a plucked string, then yanked it upward through her chest. She focused on healing.

On purifying. She visualized her energy flowing over the children, healing them.

The magic erupted from her pores in gossamer threads of gold and silver, wrapping around her limbs like luminous vines before shooting outward in jagged comets.

Each bolt struck a child with surgical precision, sinking beneath their skin with a sound like distant wind chimes.

Where the light touched, color returned.

Pale cheeks flushing pink, blue-tinged lips warming to coral.

Lita fell back, Caspian catching her as her vision darkened around the edges.

“Lita!”

“I’m okay. I just need a moment.”

"You did it, Lita. They’re all stabilizing." Kristen looked up from the child she was beside, eyes teary and smiling.

She wanted to laugh, or cry, or maybe just collapse on the floor for the next year. Instead, she looked up and saw the parents, every one of them clutching their kids, sobbing in gratitude and terror and shock.

One by one, the children woke up. Some groggy, some scared, some just wanting a cookie.

There was relief, but now she could focus on what happened. Someone had gone straight for the heart of the pack.

And Lita knew, without question, that it wasn’t over.

“I was promised another lollipop. It was really yummy,” one of the children said.

“Yeah, me too. Felicia said she had more for us.”

Lita straightened up from Caspian’s arms.

“Wait … did you all eat these lollipops?” She listened as all the children hummed in agreement. She looked at Caspian in shock as his eyes darkened.

“I’ll go find her,” Caspian growled, storming out of the infirmary.

Did she intentionally deliver ingestible wicked magic to the children, or were the lollipops laced before she bought them and she didn’t know? There was no way of knowing without talking to Felicia.

“Lita, go in the back and take a seat. I’ll handle things here.” Kristen motioned for Lita to go down the back hall.

“I need to go help Asher.”

“You are in no position to fight. You’re barely standing.” Kristen gave her a stern look and pointed to the back. “I mean it, Luna.”

“Okay. Okay.” Honestly, Kristen was right. She wasn’t sure she even had the strength to shift. She walked down the hall toward the lounge in the back. She was almost there when she heard something outside.

It was a scream, high and thin, so far away it might have come from the opposite end of their territory.

It wasn’t the shriek of a child, or the pain-bark of a shifter in battle.

It was the dying animal cry of someone already past help, begging for a miracle.

Someone needed help, and she couldn’t ignore them.

She opened the back door and took off at a run.

Pure adrenaline fueled her. She could rest later, but right now, someone was in trouble.