When fire meets prophecy, even a mother's love may burn.
---
The night was restless.
Ash drifted from the storm, but it would not settle. It twisted and coiled like living smoke, whispering against the cold air. Every sound seemed too loud, every silence too deep. Selene had not slept. She could not. The whisper still echoed in her skull—soft and venomous—gnawing at the fragile peace she clutched around her child.
The Beast stood a few paces away, his form carved from shadow and firelight. His silence was a shield… and a wall. She wished she could read him. Wished she could know if he heard the same whispers, if he feared what crawled beneath the ashes.
Her son stirred. His small hand flexed, a faint light pulsing beneath the skin—fire and shadow intertwined. Selene pressed a kiss to his brow. But as her lips left his skin, the whisper came again—closer, colder, crueler.
> He is not yours to keep…
Selene's flames flared, wild and defensive. "Leave us!" she hissed. Her voice cracked through the night like glass.
The Beast's head turned sharply. "You hear it again."
"Yes," she whispered. "Don't you?"
He shook his head once. "No. But I see it."
Her pulse quickened. "See what?"
He lifted his blade and pointed toward the ash.
Beyond the fire, the ground rippled as though something slithered beneath it. Then—crack—the temple floor split open where Velkar's wound had once been. From that scar, tendrils of shadow seeped upward like smoke from the grave. They did not strike; they reached. Reached for her child.
Selene's flames roared. She pressed the infant tight to her chest and thrust her hand outward, searing the first tendril to ash. It dissolved, hissing—but more came. Dozens. Silent and unending.
The Beast moved like a storm, blades gleaming in twin arcs of shadow-fire. He carved through the tendrils, his aura pulsing with fury. The shadows screamed as they burned, their echo trembling through the ground like a dying heartbeat.
"They're testing us," he growled.
"Velkar," Selene breathed.
"And Lyra," he muttered darkly. "Together."
---
By dawn, the scar was still bleeding shadow. It pulsed faintly—black veins crawling outward, poisoning the stone beneath.
Selene stood over it, her son held close, his golden-shadow eyes wide and unblinking. He watched the scar as though he understood it. Too well.
"Can it be sealed?" she asked.
The Beast crouched near the edge. His claws hovered just above the wound, shadows recoiling as if burned. "Not by me. Not by fire. Not by steel."
"Then how?"
His gaze lifted to her, grim and knowing. "The scar was made through prophecy. To seal it, something stronger is needed."
Selene's throat tightened. "Stronger than prophecy?"
"Choice," he said simply. "But not yours… not mine." His eyes flicked to the child. "His."
Her heart froze. She held her son tighter, trembling. "No. He's a child. He will not bear this. I will not let him."
The Beast rose to his full height, shadow boiling around him. "Do you think destiny bends to will? The scar calls to him. It is already his—to seal, or to tear open."
Selene's jaw clenched. "Then I'll destroy it myself."
She stepped forward, fire burning white-hot in her palms. But before she could strike, the earth shuddered. The scar split wider with a deafening crack, spewing darkness like blood from a wound.
The whispers surged—hundreds of them now, echoing, overlapping, hissing.
> He is ours… ours… ours…
The child in Selene's arms screamed—his first cry. It tore through her like a blade.
The Beast roared, his blades igniting with dark fire. "Selene—back!"
But she didn't retreat. She thrust her hands into the wound, unleashing fire that met shadow in a violent collision. The explosion hurled her backward, flames and smoke shattering the air.
The infant's cry grew louder. The scar pulsed brighter—then suddenly, stopped.
Silence.
The shadows recoiled, writhing back into the earth. The scar sealed itself with a hiss, leaving only a black mark scorched into stone.
Selene gasped, clutching her son. Her body shook, her heart racing—but the boy was calm now. His golden eyes glowed like twin suns, unblinking, unafraid.
The Beast lowered his weapons. His breath came ragged, his expression unreadable. He looked at her, then at the child, then at the blackened mark.
Selene's chest tightened. Her son had done it. Not her. Not the Beast. The child.
---
Far below Mars's surface, Velkar stirred.
In a cavern lined with bone and stone, he stood still as statues watched him—shadow-wolves prowling at his feet. Behind him, Lyra lingered, her violet eyes fierce, her lips bloodied from rage.
Velkar pressed his palm against the wall. The stone trembled beneath his touch. "Sealed."
Lyra spat. "By Selene?"
Velkar's grin was cold, teeth gleaming in the dark. "No. By the boy."
Lyra's face twisted. "Impossible."
"Not impossible," Velkar murmured, eyes burning with wrath. "Unforgivable."
Lyra's voice turned to venom. "You speak of him as though he were yours."
Velkar turned slowly. His grin sharpened. "Perhaps he is. But he will fall, Lyra. And when he does—our bloodline will rise."
Her lips curled. "Our daughter will rise."
"Then let us raise her," Velkar said softly.
From the depths of the cavern came a howl—low, guttural, ancient. It rolled through the stone like thunder, echoing a promise of vengeance.
---
That night, beneath a bruised sky, Selene sat by the dying embers of her fire. Her son slept in her arms. The Beast kept silent watch beside her, his gaze fixed on the black mark that had once been a scar.
The world felt too still. Too quiet.
Selene brushed her son's hair with trembling fingers. "You saved us," she whispered. "But at what cost?"
The Beast's voice rumbled low. "It is not the cost we should fear. It is the hunger."
She turned sharply. "What do you mean?"
His eyes never left the boy. Shadows trembled faintly along his arms. "Power does not rest. It grows. And when it grows…" He looked at her finally. "It feeds."
Selene's throat tightened. "Then I'll teach him. I'll raise him to choose—to be more than prophecy, more than fire or shadow. He will not become what Velkar was. He will never be what Lyra became."
The Beast said nothing. His silence was answer enough.
Outside, the wind carried whispers across the ruined world.
> The heir… the heir… the heir…
---
Preview Line (for the Next Chapter)
Next in Chapter 15 –WOLVES IN THE DUST:
A world reborn in silence hides its next storm—because every sealed scar leaves a deeper hunger behind.