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FORTY-TWO

SELENE

S elene stood at the edge of the balcony as the sun broke across the jagged line of the Veil mountains.

Not gray. Not silver. Gold. Real, raw, unforgiving light.

She closed her eyes and breathed it in. Not just the air—but the moment.

The world was still.

It had been a few months since everything had happened. It was still scarred, still stitched with magic and threat and secrets yet uncovered—but for this breath, this sliver of time, it was hers.

Not borrowed. Not bargained.

Hers.

Behind her, the new court stirred—voices of nobles learning how to lead without claws, heirs speaking not in growls but plans, Kael’s voice somewhere among them like a low hum she could always find.

He was there. He always would be. Not because she needed him to save her.

But because he knew she didn’t need saving at all.

She ran a hand over the crown still resting against her brow—not heavy, but not weightless either.

Responsibility never was. But she'd carry it better than most. Because she’d bled for this.

She remembered the Selene who had first stepped through the Veil wrapped in crimson velvet and diplomatic chains. Who had learned to smile in the face of wolves and not flinch when death called her a bride.

She remembered her father’s warnings.

You’re the key to peace.

She’d become the sword instead.

She remembered Varyn’s taunts, Kael’s fury, Nyra’s guarded loyalty, the sting of betrayal, the bond breaking, the near-death silence of her own heart.

And she remembered rising from all of it.

Unbroken.

Unbound.

“I thought I’d find you up here,” came Kael’s voice behind her, low and fond.

Selene turned slightly looking at the man who was so uniformed before and now…

He looked like the dawn had shaped itself around him—barefoot, shirt half-buttoned, cloak hanging loose over his shoulders.

His hair tousled from her fingers the night before, his smile soft in that private way he wore only for her.

“You didn’t think I’d be napping with so much to see to, did you?”

“I thought I might’ve worn you out,” he teased, stepping closer.

“You did,” she said, tilting her head. “But I like it.”

Kael slipped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

They stood like that for a while. Watching the world they’d almost lost. The kingdom they’d won. The future they’d chosen.

“You still think we’re cursed?” she asked quietly.

He exhaled, lips brushing her neck. “No.”

“You used to.”

“I used to believe a lot of things,” he said. “That love was weakness. That duty meant silence. That prophecy was stronger than choice.”

“And now?”

Kael turned her in his arms. Looked her dead in the eyes.

“Now I believe in you. ”

Her breath caught. And in it was everything.

“I’m not perfect,” she whispered.

“Good,” he said. “Neither am I. We’ll just rule like hell and get messy together.”

She laughed. It broke something inside her. Something that needed breaking.

Something final.

The sun rose higher.

Kael leaned in, kissed her gently. And this time, it wasn’t desperation. Or prophecy. Or fear. It was joy. Peace. Promise.

They stepped away from the balcony together. Not toward a throne. But toward the unknown. Hand in hand. Bond blazing. Heir and queen. Alpha and flame.

Just a man and a woman who chose each other.

And that was where their story would begin again.