CHAPTER FOUR: WHEN FATE DECIDES
Selene's POV
I didn't sleep.
How could I, knowing that dawn would bring my death?
Instead, I sat in the darkness of my cell, pressing my hand against the silver wound that refused to heal. The poison had spread through my veins like wildfire, leaving me weak and feverish.
But I wouldn't let it break me.
I had survived Caleb's betrayal. I'd survived crossing into enemy territory. I would face my execution with my head held high, even if fear clawed at my insides.
Hours passed. The darkness slowly gave way to the faint gray light of early morning.
This was it.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs made my heart lurch. I stood on shaking legs, refusing to meet my end sitting down.
But it wasn't the executioner who appeared.
It was Alpha Damon.
He stood outside my cell, his expression unreadable in the dim light. For a long moment, he just stared at me.
"It's time?" I asked, proud that my voice didn't shake.
"No."
I blinked. "What?"
He unlocked the cell door with a sharp twist of the key.
"You're being moved."
"Moved where?"
"My house."
The words didn't make sense. I must have misheard.
"Your... house?"
"You'll be under constant guard," he continued, as if he hadn't just said something completely insane.
"You're not to leave without my permission. You're not to speak to anyone without supervision. And if you try to escape…"
"You'll kill me. I get it."
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of confusion.
"But why? Why not just execute me like you planned?"
His jaw tightened.
"I changed my mind."
"People don't just change their minds about executing their enemies."
"I do." He stepped aside, gesturing for me to exit the cell.
"Now move. Unless you'd prefer to stay here."
I didn't trust this. Not even a little bit.
But I also wasn't stupid enough to refuse.
I stepped out of the cell, my legs nearly buckling beneath me. Damon caught my arm, steadying me with a grip that was surprisingly gentle.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
"I'll manage."
He released me immediately, as if my touch had burned him.
Two guards appeared at the top of the stairs, their expressions carefully neutral. They flanked me as Damon led the way up and out of the holding cells.
The morning air hit me like a slap, cold and crisp. I breathed it in greedily, grateful to be out of that dark cell.
Damon's house was located at the edge of the pack territory—a large, modern structure that somehow fit perfectly into the wild landscape.
Stone and glass merged seamlessly, creating something both intimidating and beautiful.
Inside, it was sparse but functional. Dark furniture, no personal touches, everything neat and controlled.
Just like its owner.
"The guest room is upstairs," Damon said, not looking at me.
"You'll find clothes in the closet. A doctor will be here within the hour to remove the silver."
"Thank you," I said quietly.
He finally met my eyes.
"Don't thank me. This isn't mercy. You're alive because I haven't decided what to do with you yet."
"Then what am I?"
"A problem I haven't solved." He moved toward the door. "Don't make me regret this, Crescent."
The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving me alone in the house of my enemy.
I climbed the stairs slowly, every step sending fresh waves of pain through my body. The guest room was simple but clean—a bed, a dresser, a window that looked out over the forest.
A prison, but a comfortable one.
I collapsed onto the bed, my body finally giving in to the exhaustion I'd been fighting. As my eyes drifted closed, one thought echoed through my mind:
What game is Alpha Damon playing?
And why do I get the feeling I'm about to find out?
Several Hours Later
I woke to the sound of voices downstairs.
The doctor had come and gone while I slept, leaving behind neat bandages and a bottle of pills to help with the silver poisoning. The wound still hurt, but the worst of the burning had faded.
I could hear Damon talking to someone, his deep voice rumbling through the floorboards. Another voice joined his—female, sharp, and very, very angry.
Curiosity got the better of me.
I crept to the top of the stairs, staying hidden in the shadows as I peered down into the main room.
Damon stood near the fireplace, his arms crossed. And across from him, radiating fury, was a woman I had never seen before.
She was beautiful; tall and lean, with long black hair and eyes that flashed with rage. She wore tactical gear that marked her as a warrior, and the way she moved screamed danger.
"You brought a Crescent into your home?" she hissed.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"Lyra…"
"Don't 'Lyra' me!"
She stepped closer, jabbing a finger at his chest.
"After everything they did to us? After they killed your father? And you're protecting one of them?"
"I'm not protecting her. I'm keeping her contained."
"Contained?" Lyra let out a harsh laugh.
"She should be dead! Not sleeping in your guest room like some honored guest!"
"My decisions are not up for debate."
"They are when they put the entire pack at risk!" Her voice rose.
"What if she's a spy? What if this is all part of some Crescent plot?"
"She's not a spy."
"How do you know that?" Lyra demanded.
"Because she batted her pretty green eyes at you and told you a sad story?"
Damon's expression darkened.
"Watch your tone."
"Or what? You'll lock me up too?" She shook her head, disgust clear on her face.
"I don't know what's happening to you, Damon, but it needs to stop. Now."
"This conversation is over."
"No, it's not—"
"I said it's over, Lyra."
The Alpha command in his voice was unmistakable. Even from where I stood, I felt the weight of it pressing down.
Lyra's jaw clenched, but she lowered her gaze.
"Fine. But this isn't finished."
She turned and stormed toward the door, but paused at the threshold.
"She's going to destroy you, Damon. And when she does, don't say I didn't warn you."
The door slammed behind her, rattling the windows.
Damon stood alone in the silence, his shoulders tense. Then, without looking up, he said,
"You can come down now, Selene."
My breath caught. How had he known I was there?
Slowly, I descended the stairs. When I reached the bottom, he finally looked at me.
"Who was that?" I asked.
"Lyra. My second-in-command."
"She wants me dead."
"Most of my pack does."
He moved to pour himself a drink.
"You'll have to get used to it."
"And you?" I asked quietly.
"Do you want me dead?"
He was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough.
"I don't know what I want anymore."
Before I could respond, his head snapped toward the window. Every muscle in his body went rigid.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Someone's coming."
He moved to the door with fluid grace, pulling it open just as a runner appeared.
"Alpha!" The young wolf was out of breath, his eyes wide.
"It's the border patrol. They found something you need to see."
"What?"
"A message. From Crescent territory."
The runner's gaze flicked to me ner
vously.
"It's about her."
My blood turned to ice.
Damon's expression hardened. "Show me."
He started to follow the runner, then paused.
"Stay here. Don't leave this house."
"Damon—"
But he was already gone, leaving me alone with a thousand questions and the growing certainty that whatever message had come from Crescent territory…
It was going to change everything.