The corridors beneath the palace reeked of rust, mildew, and old pain.
Selene's bare feet left small smears of blood on the cold stone floor as the guards dragged her deeper into the belly of Lunaris. Their hands were rough, ironclad gauntlets biting into her arms, but she made no sound. Not even when the edge of a stair clipped her injured ankle or when her shoulder slammed into the corner of a wall.
Pain was familiar.
So was darkness.
She welcomed both like old friends.
But what burned beneath her skin now—what unsettled her more than any wound or chain—was him.
The prince.
Kael Thorne.
Her mate.
Selene had felt the bond snap into place like a blade across her soul. Hot. Vicious. Irrefutable.
It made her sick.
The Moon Goddess had cursed her. That was the only explanation.
She had spent years hiding, surviving, scraping by in the ruins of a broken world—only to fall into the hands of her enemies and discover that he, the very weapon of her people's destruction, was the one the stars had tied her to.
She would not weep.
She would not crumble.
But deep in her chest, something howled.
The guards shoved open a thick iron door at the end of a long, torchlit hallway. Inside was a small chamber, carved directly into stone. The walls were smooth but unwelcoming, the single window little more than a slit carved high in the wall—too small for escape, too narrow to let in anything but shadows.
Chains hung from the walls.
She smiled.
Of course.
"This is your royal protection?" she rasped, her voice hoarse from smoke and disuse.
"Silence, Forsaken," one of the guards snapped. "Speak again, and I'll make you swallow your own tongue."
Selene's smile widened, showing bloodstained teeth.
"Try," she said.
The guard lunged for her, but the other caught his arm.
"She's his mate," the second reminded, voice low. "If you so much as bruise her, the prince will gut you himself."
A flicker of fear passed between them.
Interesting.
Selene filed it away. Even the prince's own men feared his wrath.
The second guard unlatched the shackles from the wall. "Sit."
She didn't move.
They forced her down. Her knees hit the cold floor with a sharp crack, and the pain tore through her like lightning, but she refused to cry out.
The chains snapped around her wrists.
Heavy. Silver-lined.
They burned instantly.
A hiss of pain slipped from her lips before she could stop it.
"Silver?" she muttered through clenched teeth. "How unoriginal."
The guards didn't reply. One of them tossed a thin blanket at her—rough wool, the kind that scratched more than it warmed—and then they turned to leave.
Selene's voice followed them like a shadow.
"Tell your prince," she called, "that the Moon Goddess made a mistake."
The door slammed shut.
The darkness settled.
She was alone.
But not really.
Not with the bond gnawing at her from the inside out.
Selene leaned her head back against the wall, forcing her breathing to slow. She closed her eyes, pushing the pain aside piece by piece—ankle, ribs, wrists, the burn of silver. They would not break her. Not like this. Not when she'd survived worse.
She had slept in caves with wolves howling for her blood. She had buried the last of her family with her own hands, her fingers frozen and blue. She had lived.
She would keep living.
But the bond…
That was the one thing she hadn't prepared for.
She had always known she might die. She'd accepted it the night she'd returned to the forest to face the prince's men. But she hadn't expected him—Kael—to look at her and see the same burning recognition. The same impossible truth.
Mate.
Selene exhaled a slow, bitter laugh.
What a cruel joke.
Kael Thorne, the Moon's favored son. Slayer of her kin. Crowned destroyer of the Forsaken.
And he was hers.
No—she was his. That was the problem.
She could already feel the tether tightening. A constant awareness of him tugged at the edges of her mind. His scent lingered in her memory—cedar and cold steel. His voice echoed in her bones, low and sharp as a dagger's edge. His eyes—those damn golden eyes—had carved into her like flame.
Selene opened her eyes and stared up at the tiny slit of moonlight above her.
"No," she whispered. "I won't be claimed."
She would burn this palace down first.
She would chain herself to death itself before she gave in to him.
Still… she had to admit, however grudgingly, that she hadn't expected to live past today. Let alone to be protected by the prince himself. That bought her time.
Time was all she needed.
Time to study her prison. Time to heal. Time to find the crack in the stone.
Because one thing was certain.
She hadn't come to Lunaris to surrender.
She had come to kill the prince.
And now Fate had made him hers.
---
Hours passed.
Or maybe days.
There was no way to tell time in that stone tomb.
Once, a healer came. A quiet, pale woman with hollow eyes who dressed Selene's ankle and dabbed ointment on her bruises without a word. Selene didn't speak either. She only watched her hands, memorizing the vials she carried, the way she handled the keys on her belt.
Then silence returned.
Her sleep was broken and jagged. Visions plagued her dreams.
Fire.
Screams.
A silver blade drenched in red.
A voice—her mother's voice—whispering her name in the wind.
"Run, Selene. You must live. The Moon has plans for you."
She woke sweating, teeth clenched, heart thundering.
And then—on the fourth day, maybe fifth—the door creaked open.
She didn't look up at first.
But the presence that entered the room wrapped around her like smoke.
Her eyes snapped open.
Kael stood there, alone.
His armor was gone. He wore dark pants, boots, and a tunic of forest green, the color of deep pines in winter. His sleeves were rolled to the elbow, revealing forearms inked with black tattoos—sigils of power, of blood, of the crown.
His hair was tousled, as if he hadn't slept. A shadow lined his jaw. His expression was unreadable.
But the bond surged like fire the moment they locked eyes.
Selene forced herself to her feet, despite the pain. She stood straight, chin high, chains clinking as she shifted.
She would not bow.
"I told them not to chain you," Kael said, voice quiet.
"And yet, here we are," she replied, lifting her wrists. The skin beneath the silver cuffs was raw, angry.
He looked at the burns. His jaw tightened.
"I didn't order this."
"I don't care," she said. "You're still the monster they obey."
A muscle ticked in his cheek.
"I spared your life."
"You think that makes you merciful?" she spat. "You and your court have hunted my people like animals. Burned our homes. Slaughtered children."
"You killed two of my men."
"They hunted me first."
A long silence stretched between them.
The moonlight above shifted slightly, casting a faint glow across his features.
He looked tired.
Haunted.
But Selene wasn't fooled.
Kael stepped forward, slowly, like approaching a wild animal. His eyes stayed on hers.
"What are you doing here, Selene?" he asked, his voice low. "You let yourself be captured."
Her silence was answer enough.
"You had a purpose," he said. "A reason to come to my court. What was it?"
She smiled—slow, sharp, and dangerous.
"Maybe I came to kill you."
He didn't flinch.
"Then why haven't you tried?"
"Because chains aren't as good as daggers."
Another pause.
Then, softly, he asked, "You felt it too."
Selene's smile faded.
"I did," she admitted. "I wish I hadn't."
Kael looked at her for a long time. His eyes searched hers, but whatever he sought, he didn't find.
He turned to leave.
At the doorway, he paused.
"You're not the only one with secrets, Selene," he said. "And you're not the only one Fate has cursed."
Then he was gone.
And the silence returned.
But it wasn't empty anymore.
It throbbed with questions.
With tension.
With something neither of them could name
To be continued....