The fortress was quieter than usual. Morning light slanted through the high windows of the hall, catching the dust in silver shafts. But beneath the calm, there was unease. Selene felt it in every glance that lingered on her, in every whispered word that stopped when she entered a room.
Her hands were still raw from training, the skin faintly glowing no matter how hard she tried to smother it. She kept them hidden beneath her cloak, but the light always seemed to bleed through, betraying her.
Even now, as she crossed the hall toward the council chamber, the warriors she passed gave her a wide berth. Some dipped their heads respectfully, but others kept their eyes hard, suspicious. She didn't blame them. She had killed a man in front of them, even if he had been a Bloodmoon spy.
She could still see the body in her mind. Could still hear the crack as it hit the wall.
"Selene."
She flinched, then turned. Darius stood waiting by the council doors, his silver eyes steady. He studied her, reading the tension in her shoulders. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine," she lied.
"You're not," he said simply. Then he opened the door and gestured for her to follow.
---
Inside, the chamber smelled of parchment and smoke. Old maps stretched across the central table, weighted with stones. Around it sat Shadowfang's elders—gray-haired wolves with eyes as sharp as any blade. They fell silent when Selene entered, their gazes sweeping over her with quiet calculation.
At the head of the table, Elder Kaelen, the oldest among them, rose to his feet. His back was bent, but his presence filled the room.
"So it is true," he said, his voice low, weathered. "The girl glows with the moon's light."
Selene's stomach tightened. "I didn't mean—"
"You think this is chance?" Kaelen's voice cut her off. He shuffled closer, leaning on his staff. His gaze searched her face as if looking for something hidden. "No. This is old. Older than any bond, older than any Alpha's claim."
Darius's jaw clenched. "Kaelen—"
But the elder raised a hand. "You've felt it too. Don't deny it." His eyes returned to Selene. "Child, do you know your bloodline?"
The question startled her. "My parents are gone. They were Bloodmoon wolves. Nothing more."
Kaelen shook his head slowly. "Not nothing. Do you know the name Althaea?"
The room seemed to tilt. Selene shook her head. "No."
"Few do. She was the Moon's chosen, long ago. A Luna Queen who ruled not one pack, but many. They say her line was lost when Bloodmoon betrayed her. But…" He reached out, brushing the air just above Selene's glowing hands. "I see her in you."
Whispers rippled through the chamber. The other elders leaned forward, murmuring about prophecy, about destiny. Selene's pulse hammered.
"I'm not—" She backed away, shaking her head. "I'm not anyone's queen."
"You may not have a choice," Kaelen said softly. "The moon does not waste her gifts."
---
The words followed her long after she left the chamber. They clung to her as she walked the fortress halls, pressing down on her like invisible chains.
Althaea. Luna Queen. Destined.
No. It couldn't be true. She was just Selene—the weak girl Kael had rejected, the stranger Shadowfang barely tolerated.
She found herself wandering into the courtyard, needing air. The moon would not rise for hours, but still her skin tingled as if the light were already on her.
"Selene."
She turned sharply. Darius stood in the archway, arms crossed, his gaze unreadable.
"You shouldn't let Kaelen's words trouble you," he said.
"They do trouble me," she admitted. "If he's right, then what does that make me? Some kind of… weapon? A piece of prophecy for packs to fight over?"
His jaw tightened. "It makes you Selene. That's all."
She shook her head, frustrated. "You don't believe that. You've seen what I can do. You've seen how they look at me. They're afraid. And maybe they should be."
He stepped closer, his presence steadying even as her voice trembled. "Fear fades. Truth doesn't. You are mine, and nothing will change that."
Her chest ached at the certainty in his tone. She wanted to believe him. Needed to.
But before she could speak, a shout cut through the courtyard.
---
"Alpha!"
A warrior stumbled in, his arm bleeding, his face pale. "We found another spy. In the archives."
Darius's expression darkened. "Alive?"
The warrior hesitated. "Barely."
Selene's pulse quickened. She followed as Darius strode toward the inner halls, the scent of blood growing stronger with every step.
They found the spy slumped against a wall, bound in chains. His face was battered, his breathing ragged. But his eyes burned with defiance.
When they landed on Selene, he spat blood and laughed. "The moon's child. Bloodmoon will tear this fortress apart to get her back."
Selene froze.
"Who sent you?" Darius demanded.
The man's grin widened. "Your end, Shadowfang."
Before anyone could stop him, he bit down on something hidden in his teeth. A hiss followed—a poison capsule. Foam spilled from his lips, and he collapsed, dead within seconds.
The hall went silent.
Selene's hands trembled. Another spy. Another threat. And his words still rang in her head: the moon's child.
---
That night, sleep eluded her. Every shadow in her chamber seemed sharper, every whisper of the wind like a warning.
When she finally drifted into uneasy rest, dreams took her. Not gentle ones, but visions.
She stood in a forest drenched in moonlight. The trees bent toward her as if bowing. And at the center stood a woman in silver robes, her eyes glowing like stars.
"Blood of Althaea," the woman said, her voice echoing through the trees. "You cannot run from what you are."
Selene shook her head. "I don't want this. I just want to be free."
"Freedom comes with choice. And choice comes with sacrifice."
Before Selene could ask what that meant, the vision shattered.
She woke gasping, sweat slick on her skin. But the words lingered.
Blood of Althaea.
---
The next morning, she found Darius already waiting in the training yard. His expression was harder than usual, but when he saw her, something softened.
"You didn't sleep," he said.
"How do you know?"
"You wear it on your face."
She almost smiled, but the weight of her dream pressed down too heavily. "Darius… if what Kaelen said is true… if I really am descended from this Althaea, then—"
"Then you'll be stronger than Kael ever imagined," he cut in. "And that terrifies him."
She hesitated. "What if it terrifies me too?"
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Then you'll use that fear. Let it sharpen you. Not break you."
Her throat tightened. "And if I can't?"
"Then I'll carry it for you."
The words hit deeper than she expected. She looked away quickly, afraid of what might show in her eyes.
---
But the day held no peace.
By noon, another whisper spread: someone had tried to poison the water supply. The saboteur escaped before they could catch him, but the message left behind chilled Selene's blood.
Scrawled across the cistern wall in black ash were words she could not mistake:
"Althaea's heir belongs to Bloodmoon."
Selene's breath caught. The spies knew. Kael knew.
And if the fortress hadn't doubted her before, they would now.
---
That night, she stood alone on the battlements, the wind tugging at her cloak. The moon hung high, full and bright, casting silver over the land.
"You're too close to the edge."
Darius's voice startled her. He stepped up beside her, his hand brushing the stone. "Thinking of jumping?"
She shook her head. "Thinking of running."
His gaze was sharp. "Do you want to?"
Her throat tightened. "Sometimes. If I leave, maybe the spies stop coming. Maybe Shadowfang stops bleeding because of me."
"And if you leave," he said, voice low, "Kael takes you. He wins. Is that what you want?"
"No," she whispered.
"Then stay."
His hand brushed hers on the stone—just a touch, but enough to ground her. "You are not their curse, Selene. You are their hope. One day they'll see it. Until then, I will."
She closed her eyes. His words wrapped around her like armor.
Maybe she wasn't ready to believe them. But she wanted to.
More than anything, she wanted to.