The Silent Luna's Trial (Maple and Finn) novel Chapter 71

**When the Last Candle Sang to the Ocean Wind by Aurelion Kyre Solvane**

His voice sliced through the air like a blade, unforgiving and harsh. Natalia felt her body quiver violently, a tempest of fear rendering her speechless, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts yet unable to form a single coherent word.

As Dante finally released his grip on her, she felt a mix of relief and dread wash over her. She watched him stride away, his silhouette stark and resolute against the fading light, each step echoing the finality of their confrontation.

Crashing to her knees, she felt the cold, hard ground beneath her, and her eyes brimmed with a volatile mixture of panic and seething hatred.

“It’s over… everything’s over,” she whispered to herself, the weight of her reality crashing down around her like a tidal wave.

She had meticulously crafted plans for every scenario, every twist and turn—except this. The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning: she had underestimated Dante’s resolve. He understood that by leaving, he would forsake everything—his wealth, his esteemed position, and the loyalty of his pack.

And yet, he had still chosen to walk away!

No. The thought of Dante reaching Crisantia sent a shiver down her spine. If he succeeded, the agreement they had struck would come into play, and he would become utterly useless to her—an empty shell of a man.

Desperation clawed at her insides. She had to reconcile with Rowan.

He might be an illegitimate child, a fact that carried its own weight of stigma, but at least he had something to offer—unlike Dante, who would soon be a disgraced Alpha, stripped of everything he once held dear.

With a fierce determination, Natalia snatched her phone from her pocket, her fingers trembling as she dialed Rowan’s number. She adopted a tone that was sweet and delicate, masking her turmoil: “When are you coming back?”

The next day dawned gray and somber, the sky weeping as Evelyn’s funeral took place.

Rosalie and Silas entered the hall, carefully holding Evelyn’s portrait, a silent testament to the life that had been lost. A crowd gathered, drawn together by grief, each face a reflection of sorrow and respect.

Dante arrived in a flurry, his unshaven beard and hollowed cheeks betraying the toll of his sleepless nights. He looked as though a decade had been etched onto his features overnight.

Inside the hall, he stumbled toward the altar, his heart heavy as he sank to his knees before Evelyn’s coffin.

“I’m sorry, Evelyn… I came too late…” he murmured, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions.

The words tumbled from his lips, raw and trembling: “I shouldn’t have indulged Natalia… I should’ve come to Crisantia to find you right away.”

“Evelyn… please wake up. Just open your eyes… look at me…”

Around him, the guests stood in stunned silence, their expressions a mix of shock and pity.

Rosalie and Silas exchanged glances, their hearts aching for the man who had once been so full of life, now brought low by grief.

Unbeknownst to Dante, a figure loomed in the shadows of the crowd, watching him with cold indifference.

A woman clad in a black dress and hat observed him from a distance, her expression unreadable.

Next to her, Caden held an umbrella, shielding her from the drizzling rain.

He noticed Evelyn’s gaze fixated on Dante, a flicker of something passing through her eyes.

“Feeling sorry for him?” Caden asked, his tone casual yet probing.

Evelyn frowned, meeting Caden’s gaze with a chill in her voice: “I don’t feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for myself.”

The memories flooded back—sleepless nights since Natalia had sent that smug voice message, while Dante lay beside her, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in her heart.

On what should have been their fifth anniversary, her ‘celebration cake’ had been nothing but a photo—an empty promise, a reminder of a love that had withered away. A cake so easily dismissed that Dante hadn’t even bothered to bring it home.

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