Selene awoke that morning with a weight pressing down on her chest—not physical, but emotional. A force she couldn't name, a pull that throbbed in her chest and echoed in her bones. It wasn't just the presence of another Forsaken that haunted her thoughts—it was something deeper. Something she didn't understand.
She sat on the edge of her bed, fingers twisted in the hem of her gown as the pale morning light spilled through the narrow window. Her chamber, while more comfortable than the dungeon, still felt like a cage. She had been allowed finer clothes, warm meals, and even a fire in the hearth, but freedom? That remained just as distant.
Selene pressed her palm to her chest as if it might still the aching there. Her dreams had been strange—shadows of places she couldn't remember, faces without names, laughter echoing into screams. And one image stuck more vividly than the rest: a boy with silver eyes standing in the moonlight, whispering her name.
She shook the thought away, pacing to the window.
"Why do I feel like I know him?" she murmured again, this time with a flicker of fear in her voice. "Why does everything feel like it's slipping from my hands?"
Somewhere, in the heart of the palace, Prince Kael was back in the old library—his sanctuary, and now a well of discomfort. The book he had found earlier still lay on the table in front of him, its binding cracked and fraying like it had waited centuries to be seen. He hadn't touched it since the spider's attack, but it drew his gaze like a siren's song.
The passage about the Moonbond spun in his head like a curse on repeat:
📜"…WHEN THE FULL MOON IS OUT, THE MOONBOND TIGHTENS, AND THE PARTIES THAT ARE BONDED WILL HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO MATE, LEST THE BOND CONSUME THEM IN AGONY…"📜
It chilled him to his core.
He'd always known of bonding as a sacred ritual—chosen, blessed, rare. But this? This was a bond that stripped away choice. A bond that demanded. Why hadn't the Council told him of this? Why had this knowledge been hidden in a corner of a forgotten library?
He sat back in the creaking chair, fingers threading through his hair. "Why now?"
His thoughts returned to the moment he'd first seen Selene. He'd dismissed the pull between them then as tension, curiosity—but the truth had taken root: there was something more, something ancient. Something written into the stars and sealed with the moon.
Kael stood abruptly and slammed the book shut. "Enough."
Not long after, he descended into the palace's lowest depths—the dungeons, carved into the rock beneath the mountain, where only the worst were sent. The air here smelled of stone, rot, and forgotten sins.
The guards bowed in silence as he passed. One of them, a seasoned warrior named Jareth, stepped aside and unlocked the heavy door to the new prisoner.
"He hasn't said much," Jareth murmured. "Just stares. Like he knows something we don't."
Kael didn't answer.
Inside, the light flickered on the stone walls, casting shadows on the figure sitting silently within. Shackled but upright, the young man had a poise that unsettled Kael. His hair was dark, falling into sharp eyes that missed nothing. Though young, his aura was commanding. Dangerous.
The man looked up as Kael stepped in.
"Ah," he said, voice like gravel dragged through silk. "The prince graces me with his presence."
Kael ignored the mockery. "Who are you?"
The Forsaken smirked. "I've been called many things. Traitor. Monster. Ghost." He tilted his head, chains clinking faintly. "But you may call me... curious."
Kael didn't move. "You speak in riddles. That won't help you."
"And yet riddles are often the only language this cursed land understands."
A beat of silence passed between them.
Kael stepped forward, careful not to show hesitation. "Why are you here?"
The man leaned forward, gaze intense. "Why is she here?"
Kael stilled. "What do you mean?"
"I mean the girl you've taken into your wing." His eyes sparkled with amusement. "You think her just another stray. But you don't know what you're protecting."
Kael's fists clenched. "You know nothing about her."
"Don't I?" The man chuckled. "She dreams of shadows, doesn't she? Of a name she cannot speak."
Kael's voice dropped to a warning. "Careful."
The Forsaken smiled darkly, and then, almost casually, dropped the real bomb.
"I heard her name," he said, voice suddenly hushed. "Selene."
Kael's breath caught.
He hadn't said her name. Not aloud. Not once. And yet this man—this stranger locked beneath the castle—had spoken it with the intimacy of someone who knew it well.
"How do you know her name?" Kael asked, voice tight.
"I remember it," the man whispered. "From old times."
Kael's blood ran cold.
Old Times?
Where they related?
Did he know her before she was born?
or is he her father?
Different thoughts spiraled kael's mind. He opened his mouth to demand more, but the Forsaken merely leaned back, closing his eyes as if retreating from the world entirely.
Kael watched him for a long time, trying to understand the layers buried behind those silver eyes. But there was nothing left to say.
Not yet.
Back in her chamber, Selene stood at the window, moonlight trailing along her skin as she placed her palm over her heart again. The ache hadn't left. If anything, it had worsened.
And somewhere—deep inside—she heard a name too.
One she couldn't remember.
One she couldn't forget.
To be continued...