The wind howled like a wounded beast as Alaric rose from the bed, muscles coiled and throat dry. Moonlight poured across the darkened floor, fractured by the silhouette of storm-clouds outside. The dream clung to him like spider silk—whispering truths he wasn't ready to hear.
Selene.
Not the girl he remembered, but the woman she had become.
Or would become.
He dragged a hand down his face, pacing to the window, sweat clinging to his skin. Lightning split the sky. Somewhere beyond those trees, she moved like a shadow—closer, bolder, and more dangerous than ever.
He should end this.
He could end this.
But he didn't want to—not yet.
She wasn't just a threat.
She was a mirror.
And he needed to know how much of his past had survived inside her.
How much of her had survived the fire.
---
Selene sat cross-legged in the attic of the Hunter's safehouse, surrounded by torn scrolls and brittle tomes. Dust floated in the golden haze of candlelight, and the wooden floor groaned under their weight. Ancient glyphs glowed faintly on the edge of the page she held.
She barely blinked.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
"What is this?" she murmured to herself. Her fingers traced the text. "A ritual… a tethering. A blood bond?"
"It's more than that," said Vespera, stepping into the candle circle. She wore a worn leather jacket, bruised knuckles visible, her silver dagger tucked at her hip. "That spell is resurrection magic. Forbidden in every court. Even the Shadow Court."
Selene's brow furrowed. Her heartbeat picked up. "This handwriting. I know it."
"You recognize the script?"
"No. I recognize myself."
Vespera knelt beside her. "You wrote this?"
Selene nodded, voice hoarse. "Or someone I used to be did."
She exhaled shakily. "Vespera… I think I died."
The words hung heavy in the air.
"And someone brought me back."
---
At the Shadow Court, Cassian stood before Alaric's war table. He tossed a small device onto the surface—a tracker rune, blinking faintly.
"She crossed the river border two nights ago," Cassian reported. "Alone. No guards. No visible allies. She's in the northern ridge now, near the ruins."
Alaric didn't look up. "She's not running."
"No." Cassian frowned. "She's searching."
"She's baiting us," Alaric muttered.
"Or she's trying to find out what you buried."
Alaric's glare silenced him. "Don't presume to know her."
Cassian lowered his gaze. "I served her once too, my lord."
Alaric's jaw tightened. "She's not the same."
"No," Cassian said quietly. "But neither are you."
Alaric stood, the obsidian war table reflecting his figure like polished glass. "Track her. But do not engage. Not until I say."
"She's unraveling this faster than we expected," Cassian warned.
Alaric's voice chilled the air. "Good. Let her. Every memory she uncovers tightens the leash I'll use to pull her back."
---
Selene didn't sleep that night.
Even with the candles snuffed and the house silent, her thoughts thundered louder than any storm.
The dreams kept coming—flickering like old film, skipping through time and faces.
But one vision returned again and again.
A child.
Pale skin, raven curls. Eyes that mirrored Selene's own. A mark bloomed over her heart—twin to the symbol burned into Selene's shoulder.
She whispered into the dark, "Who are you?"
The child's voice echoed in her mind: You already know.
---
"Vespera," Selene said softly. "Wake up."
The warrior stirred, knife already in hand before her eyes opened fully. "What is it?"
Selene sat on the floor beside her cot, fingers curled around a piece of parchment. "She came again. In my dream."
Vespera sat up. "The child?"
"She called me Mother."
Vespera blinked, then stilled. "You're saying you had a child?"
"I think so." Selene's voice trembled. "And I think… I lost her."
She swallowed. "I need to go back. To the ridge. There's something there. I feel it."
Vespera rubbed her face. "At dawn."
---
The next morning, the forest smelled of pine and wet leaves as Selene and Vespera trekked through the undergrowth. Birds chirped warily. The air had weight—as if the forest remembered something it couldn't speak aloud.
Selene led the way, her steps sure despite the fog of confusion in her mind.
"I used to come here," she murmured. "When I was little. My father… he brought me to this place when I was scared."
"Why?"
"He said it was a sanctuary. That what we buried here would never be found."
She stopped at a clearing half-covered in vines. The stone marker was faint, carved with a wolf's head.
Selene dropped to her knees and began to dig.
---
In the Shadow Court, Alaric paced. He didn't like the knot in his gut.
It wasn't fear.
It was memory.
He still saw the way her hands had trembled when she held the locket. How her smile had cracked when the council had condemned her.
"She was pregnant," he whispered.
Cassian reappeared, holding something in his palm.
A silver locket. Bloodied.
Alaric opened it slowly.
Inside: a lock of pale hair. And a name scrawled in old ink.
Evangeline.
He staggered back a step.
It wasn't just a hallucination.
The child had existed.
And Selene… had never known.
Until now.
---
Selene unearthed the box.
Wooden, charred, etched with forgotten runes. It pulsed in her hand like a heartbeat.
Vespera crouched beside her. "You okay?"
Selene nodded, though her hands shook. "I have to open it."
The box resisted at first, its magic ancient and bitter. But Selene's blood warmed the seal, and the lock clicked open.
In a flash, the world tilted.
Her breath caught.
She was no longer in the forest.
---
She stood inside a grand hall of mirrors—each one reflecting a different version of herself.
One wore white and wept.
Another bled, sword in hand.
A third held a child with a crown on her head.
And at the center—Alaric.
Cold. Beautiful. Damned.
He extended his hand.
"Choose," he said.
Selene reached toward the mirror with the child.
The glass cracked.
And she fell.
---
She woke screaming.
Vespera caught her.
"Selene!"
Selene gasped for breath. Her body trembled, soaked with sweat.
"I saw it," she whispered. "The court. The child. The fire."
She clutched her chest. "He condemned me. He loved me… and he killed me."
Vespera's face was grim. "Then it's true. The Alpha erased you."
"No," Selene said hoarsely. "He tried. But I came back."
---
Thunder
cracked in the distance.
Far away, in the highest tower of the Shadow Court, Alaric stood before a long mirror.
The locket was still in his hand.
She remembered now.
The clock had started.
The storm was no longer a warning.
It was war.