SELENA'S POV
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I didn't mean to fall asleep.
But the minute I closed my eyes, something pulled me under — like falling through cold water into a memory that wasn't mine.
It wasn't a dream.
It was something else.
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I stand in a marble hall bathed in moonlight. The floors stretch forever, lined with silver flames flickering from floating torches. Velvet banners hang from the walls, black stitched with blood-red sigils I don't recognize — but somehow know.
Then I see her.
A tall figure wrapped in shadows, her silver eyes glowing through a dark veil. She's regal, terrifying, and familiar in a way that makes my chest ache.
She kneels in front of me.
> "You were hidden among them," she says softly.
"But the blood remembers. So does the throne."
I want to ask who she is, but I can't speak. My lips won't move. My legs feel frozen in place.
Then her voice echoes louder, surrounding me:
> "The moon marked you.
You are the last of the bloodborn.
And your time is coming."
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Suddenly, fire.
Screams.
Black-armored guards crashing through stained-glass windows.
A golden crown falling, rolling across the floor.
A name shouted — "Zeria!"
Then silence.
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I wake up with a scream stuck in my throat.
My sheets are soaked. My mirror is cracked down the middle.
My mark is glowing — not red, not blue — but silver.
The voice returns one last time, curling into my ears like smoke:
> "Come home, little queen."
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> Her dreams are no longer just dreams.
Her blood remembers a world she's never seen.
And someone — or something — wants her back.
— Mysterious_frnd