Preview:
> Two children. Two worlds.
One born of fire, one crowned in wolves.
And as the stars watched in silence, Mars began to tremble beneath their names.
---
The fire burned low, but Selene's eyes did not close.
Mars had become a graveyard of silence. The winds that once screamed across its scarred deserts now whispered—soft, uncertain, carrying the weight of something darker.
The child in her arms stirred often—too often. He was no longer the fragile infant she had borne beneath the bleeding skies. In mere days that should have been weeks, he had grown. His limbs lengthened, his gaze sharpened, and his cries became whispers in languages Selene did not know.
And though she cradled him as a mother cradles her son, she knew with each heartbeat that he was not merely hers. He belonged to the world—to prophecy—to something far older.
"No," she murmured against his hair, her voice trembling with defiance. "You are mine. Always mine."
The child's golden eyes blinked open, threaded with flickering shadow. His lips parted. And for the first time, Selene heard his voice—soft, broken, yet impossibly clear:
"Mother."
Her breath caught. She clutched him close, tears burning trails down her cheeks.
The Beast, crouched in the shadows, froze. His jaw tightened, his stare fixed on the boy with the wary reverence of a soldier facing an ancient god.
"He speaks," he muttered. His voice was low, almost reluctant.
Selene pressed her lips to her son's forehead. "He is still just a child."
The Beast's shadows rippled like smoke caught in wind. "Children should not speak so soon. Nor should their eyes burn like suns."
Selene's fire flared. "He is mine. That is all you need to know."
But deep inside, she feared the Beast was right.
---
Far across the wastes, in the cavern of wolves, Lyra's daughter stood.
She was small—frail even—but the air around her trembled. The wolves bowed in reverence, their eyes glowing violet, their bodies trembling under the weight of her presence.
When she raised her hand, they whimpered. When she lowered it, they howled in perfect unison, their cries echoing through the stone like a hymn of death.
Velkar watched from the shadows, his grin sharp and hungry. "She is perfect," he said softly. "A weapon born of shadow. A queen not of flame, but of venom."
Lyra's violet eyes gleamed wet with tears. "Not weapon. Not queen. She is mine. My blood. My vengeance."
The girl turned her gaze upward. For a heartbeat, the torchlight caught her eyes—gray like storms, alive like lightning. They were not just color; they were movement, shifting like Jupiter's endless sky.
Velkar's grin faltered. A shiver ran through him. He had seen power before, but not like this.
This was not his. Not Lyra's. Not prophecy's.
It was her own.
---
On Jupiter, the storms raged harder.
Priests cowered in temples, whispering of children with eyes of fire and wolves. Seers carved runes into the stone floors with bleeding fingers, warning of two forces born to collide.
And above it all, the Great Red Storm pulsed like a living eye—watching. Waiting.
A battle was coming—one that would shake not only Mars or Earth, but the very bones of the solar gods themselves.
---
Selene and the Beast moved through the ruined plains, searching for shelter.
The boy clung to her shoulder, whispering words too ancient for her to understand.
Until one word chilled her to stillness.
"Wolves."
She stopped. "What did you say?"
The boy's golden-shadowed eyes met hers. Smoke curled within his pupils. His lips parted again.
"Wolves are coming."
Selene's blood turned to ice. She looked to the Beast. "He knows. He feels them."
The Beast's eyes narrowed. "Prophecy has no patience. Even children are its messengers."
Selene's flames rose higher. "Then prophecy will burn before it takes him."
But even as she said it, the words sounded hollow.
---
That night, they camped among broken stones. The wind carried faint, distant howls—soft, but growing nearer.
The child did not cry. He only stared into the dark horizon, his small fingers twitching with quiet energy.
Selene stroked his hair, whispering lullabies older than empires. She wanted to believe he slept. But his eyes never closed.
The Beast approached, shadow stretching long across the firelight. His voice was a warning cloaked in calm. "You know what this means."
Selene's hand tightened protectively around her son. "Say it, and I will burn you where you stand."
The Beast's face remained still. His shadows writhed. "Lyra's heir is awake. You heard the howls. Your son feels her. My chains are gone. Her venom is free. This is no longer prophecy, Selene. It is blood against blood. Heir against heir."
Selene shook her head violently. "No. I will not let her use a child—not as a weapon. Not against mine."
The Beast's gaze darkened. "She will not need to use her. The girl will choose. Power always calls to power. When they meet, your fire and her venom will tear the stars themselves apart."
Selene pressed her lips to her son's temple. Her whisper was fierce, desperate. "You are not prophecy's. You are mine."
But the boy did not look at her. His eyes stayed fixed on the horizon—where wolves howled in answer.
---
In the cavern, Lyra's daughter raised her hands.
The wolves obeyed instantly. Their bodies stretched, bones reshaping, their shadows thickening into monstrous forms.
She whispered words too low for mortal ears. The cavern trembled.
Lyra's tears fell freely. "She is destiny. She is justice."
Velkar's grin widened like a blade unsheathed. "She is war."
And in the girl's storm-colored eyes, something hungry flickered—not for food, not for comfort, but for conquest.
---
Selene woke in the night.
Her arms were empty.
Panic ripped through her chest. She leapt up, fire bursting at her palms. The Beast's shadows surged to life, blades flashing.
Then they saw him.
The boy stood at the edge of their camp, framed by Mars's dim horizon. Power shimmered around him—raw, electric, alive. His eyes burned gold and shadow, twin suns of opposing worlds.
And when he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper—but it carried like thunder.
"She is coming."
---
Preview for Next Chapter (LYRA'S VENOM):
> When fire meets venom, the stars themselves will bleed.
The heirs are no longer hidden.
And prophecy—at last—has found its voice.