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TWENTY-THREE

SELENE

S elene didn’t sleep the moment she got back from the summit council. She didn’t even sit down.

She stood at her window, overlooking the dark slope of the Veil Mountains, the cold mist curling along the stones like ghost-breath. Somewhere behind those jagged peaks, her father had sent a letter meant to pull her away from Kael. Somewhere beyond that lay the world she thought she knew.

And in here? In here, she was finally becoming something real .

The summit had been brutal—eyes like blades, voices like hammers—but she’d held her ground. Lucien had been condescending, Calder much moodier than before, and Seraphine... Seraphine had studied her like she was a riddle worth breaking open.

But Kael.

Kael watched her as if she were steel in a sea of wolves. Like he saw her—not just as bonded or a pawn—but as someone who chose to stand at his side.

And she had.

Every second of that hall, she had chosen him.

As she stared out the window, Kael’s unmistakable footfalls quietly sounded as he approached her. They stared at the moon in silence, just being near each other for a moment. A long tender moment.

“Can I walk you to your quarters?” he asked quietly, offering his arm.

She turned and smiled and took his offer.

They didn’t speak for a while, just footsteps echoing in rhythm down the candlelit corridor. His hand brushed hers once. Warm. Steady.

She let the silence hold for a moment longer, then asked softly, “You think it worked? That I earned their respect?”

Kael didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was lower than usual. “You didn’t earn it,” he said. “You commanded it.”

She flushed.

A rare smile tugged at his lips. “Like I said before, even Lucien shut up. You’re dangerous, Selene.”

She laughed under her breath. “I’ve been told that before. Usually by people who underestimated me.”

His smile faded, though not unkindly.

When they stopped at her door, he leaned against the frame, his voice dipping into something thoughtful.

“I’m going to stall the ceremony,” he said quietly.

Selene blinked. “What?”

He looked at her then. Really looked. “The binding rite. It’s too soon. With Varyn sniffing around and the court on edge, rushing it would be begging for a blade to the throat— yours. I want more time to figure out who’s pulling strings. Who else is involved.”

“You think your father will agree?”

“I don’t care if he agrees.”

She stared at him. That was new.

“I need time to protect you,” he added, softer now. “Time to prepare. And if I have to pull every string in the mountain, I’ll do it.”

Something inside her flickered.

“Kael…” she started, but he leaned down and kissed her.

It wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t desperate. It was a vow pressed into her mouth. Warm, unyielding, his fingers just brushing her cheek.

When he pulled back, his voice was hoarse.

“Goodnight, Selene.”

She stood there long after he left. Because that kiss wasn’t an apology. It was permission .

To hope.

To fight back.

For once, Selene didn’t have a hard time falling asleep.

But then, in the darkness of the room, of the citadel, she jolted.

She didn’t know what woke her.

Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was the Mark, humming just beneath her skin.

But she sat up in bed without knowing why—her body tensing, heart racing.

Then the windows exploded inward.

Glass shattered. Wind howled. And something dark, fast, and snarling slammed through her balcony like a blade through silk.

Shifters. Not Fenrir. Rogues.

She was already moving.

Barefoot, nightgown whipping around her legs, Selene grabbed the dagger hidden under her pillow—a gift from Nyra, “just in case.”

Two of them dropped into her room. One was massive, eyes glowing gold. The other was lean, wiry, already half-shifted.

Selene didn’t hesitate.

She slashed out, fast, wild, silver catching the edge of the lean one’s cheek. He reeled, but the larger one lunged.

She ducked, rolled, kicked at his legs. Her heel caught bone. He grunted but didn’t fall.

She made it to the door, locked .

A third attacker dropped from the rafters.

Too fast.

Too strong.

They surrounded her.

This was it. They were going to kill her. She closed her eyes, pulse screaming in her ears. But then— something shifted. Not in the room.

In her.

The Mark on her shoulder burned so violently she screamed.

It wasn’t pain.

It was awakening.

The world bent. Time paused. For a moment, Selene stood between seconds.

She opened her eyes and everything was different.

The world was washed in silver-blue light. The air rippled, thick and echoing like water. Her attackers were frozen—caught mid-move, blades drawn.

She took a step and the floor shimmered beneath her foot.

She was walking through something, across something.

A veil.

The Veil.

She wasn’t just seeing it now.

She was inside it.

And then time snapped back. Light exploded from her skin. The Mark pulsed once— twice —and her attackers screamed, clutching their heads like something had crawled into their skulls.

One dropped. The second staggered. The third ran—straight through the balcony window and into the night off the ledge and over the cliffs.

Selene collapsed to her knees, panting. The door slammed open.

Kael.

Sword drawn, eyes glowing, hair wild.

He looked at the room, at the downed rogues, the shattered glass, the way Selene glowed faintly with the last echo of power.

His blade lowered.

“Selene?”

She looked up at him, breathless.

“I… I think I did something.”

He stared at her for a heartbeat. Then dropped to his knees beside her and pulled her into his arms.