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T he ancient leather-bound tome felt like a betrayal in my hands. After years of finding safety in books and building a life among their predictable pages and sturdy bindings, this one had failed me, like so many of the others stacked on the coffee table.

I could feel my consorts’ eyes on me. Javier stood by the door, deadly and alert, his hawkish gaze missing nothing. Bastian leaned against a bookcase within my line of sight, periodically glancing my way as he leafed through book after book, the barely leashed power simmering beneath his skin, making his tattoos gleam with subtle golden light. Since letting the beast out the other night, that primal part of him always seemed to be right beneath the surface, waiting to come out.

Behind me, Ash and Thane kept watch, ready to shield me with their bodies or whisk me away to safety—whatever the situation required. Their presence was a steady calm, balancing the sense of flailing tension that seemed to be unraveling around Isador. She hadn’t had many answers about what happened with the queens in the graveyard, merely more questions. But at least she had a direction. And—and I meant this with my whole heart— at least that direction didn’t involve another ritual.

Yet.

Instead, it relied on something I was much more comfortable with: research.

“Here,” Isador said, pushing an open book across the coffee table toward me and turning it sideways. The pages were yellowed by age and worn around the edges. Her elegant finger pointed to a passage written in what looked disturbingly like dried blood. “This account suggests Queen Maeve was able to tap into Selene’s divine power through ritual.”

Her voice still carried the self-assurance afforded to her by centuries of queenly practice and experience as a high-ranking queen within the House of the Moon, though something had changed between us. Not respect, exactly. I hadn’t earned that. But there was a level of genuine deference where she had only gone through the motions before. She hadn’t called me “child” once since the graveyard ritual, so that was something.

“Fourteen days of fasting, starting on the new moon and ending on the full moon, daily communions with a full harem of seven…” She met my eyes, her copper irises gleaming. “Nothing like what you did.”

“Maybe I just got lucky,” I suggested halfheartedly. The words felt hollow even to me. Nothing about that night had felt like luck; it had felt like reading a book written in a language I’d never learned but could somehow understand fluently.

Isador’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “Luck doesn’t bend moonlight to its will, Sophie. Luck doesn’t pull a ghost back from beyond the veil. And luck doesn’t allow an untrained vampire queen to channel the power of the goddess herself.”

She pulled another book from the stack, this one bound in something that looked suspiciously like a prime example of anthropodermic bibliopegy—a book bound in human skin, for those outside the rare book world. I’d only seen one example of the macabre practice before, and I’d been as disturbed then as I was now. I fought the urge to recoil.

“Every recorded instance of a queen channeling divine power required preparation. Ritual. Control.” Isador’s eyes met mine, unwavering. “Except you.” Her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? Why are you making that face?”

I forced myself to swallow, fighting the urge to gag. “Where did that book come from?”

Isador looked completely baffled. She glanced toward the shelves in the back corner of the study. “Why?”

“The binding isn’t animal leather,” I said, my throat tightening. “It’s human skin.”

Isador’s expression didn’t change, which somehow made it worse. “Yes, and?”

The only other time I’d encountered an anthropodermic book—a medical text from the 1800s that the university kept under glass—I’d handled it with gloves and proper distance. Now, with the heightened senses awakened by my consorts’ blood, I could detect subtle differences in the scent, even see the faint patterns of pores and wrinkles across the surface. And was that a scar ?

This had been a person. They had lived. They had been someone’s child. And now they were the muted brown binding on a book.

“And that doesn’t bother you?” I asked Isador, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

She tilted her head, studying me with the curious look of someone observing an unusual creature. “This book is nearly two thousand years old, Sophie. The queen who donated her skin for its binding did so willingly after her last consort died—a final sacrifice to pass on her knowledge and experience before she lost her will to live. Binding the book in her flesh guaranteed that queens possessing the book for generations to come would not only have access to the knowledge she wrote down, but the wisdom and guidance of her spirit anchored to the book.”

At her words, I peered around the study, wondering where the queen in question was at this moment. Not here with us, that much was clear. Wes was currently the only ghost braving the residual wards my mother had left on the High Queen’s chambers, and he did so from the relative safety of the bedroom, which was apparently far less repellent to spirits than the study, where she had centered her final protections.

A sudden surge of power rippled through the wards—the Moon Sanctuary’s ancient wards, not those additional protections placed on these rooms three decades ago—making my teeth ache as foreign magic pressed against our defenses. The windows rattled in their frames, and the acrid scent of burning magic filled my nostrils, like ozone, but fouler, with undertones of rot.

My consorts snapped to attention.

“Someone’s probing the wards,” Isador said, easing the ancient book shut. Her eyes fixed on the windows where the cloudy afternoon sky seemed to warp, like I was viewing it through a mirage of heatwaves.

The door burst open with such force that it slammed against the wall, and Reiji appeared on the threshold, his normally composed features taut with urgency. Before he could fully enter, Javier was there, his preternatural speed carrying him across the room. His hand shot out, pinning the elemental against the doorframe by his throat. The princely veneer stripped away instantly, revealing something fiercer beneath as Reiji met Javier’s hold with unexpected dignity, making no move to struggle against the iron grip.

Through our bond, I felt centuries of hard-earned suspicion flowing from Javier—the same instincts that had kept my mom alive through countless betrayals. His voice carried that particular softness that invariably preceded violence. “Convenient timing, prince. You appear just as our defenses are compromised.”

Despite his precarious position, Reiji’s eyes blazed with urgent purpose, his gaze moving past Javier to find me.

“Someone is launching coordinated strikes against your wards,” he said, his voice strained but steady despite the pressure against his throat. “The old wards. Selene’s wards.”

A second tremor rolled through the sanctuary, this one stronger than the first.

“My guard—Ren—” he managed, his face reddening from Javier’s grip. “She’s missing. I can’t find her anywhere.”

The implication hung in the air like a blade about to fall. I remembered her intense scrutiny of my herb bundle earlier, the predatory assessment in her eyes.

Outside in the corridor, I could hear shouts and running footsteps, vampires moving with urgent purpose. Someone called for weapons. Another voice shouted orders about defending the eastern perimeter.

Bastian pushed away from the bookcase, the golden light beneath his tattoos brightening as the beast within him stirred. “How do we know you’re not part of this?”

“You don’t,” Reiji admitted, his stark honesty unexpected. His gaze shifted back to me, steady even as he struggled for breath. “But I swear on the stars themselves, I came here seeking an alliance against the darkness, not to bring it to your doorstep.”

“Let him go,” I said to Javier, my voice tight with urgency.

Javier released Reiji reluctantly, his body still positioned between us, coiled and ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

The study shuddered around us as another wave of power crashed against the sanctuary’s defenses. Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered, and someone screamed.

Micah’s face flashed in my mind—my son, wherever he was in the Moon Sanctuary right now, unaware of the incredible danger closing in around us. My heart seized with absolute terror.

“We’ll get him,” Ash said as he and Thane slipped out through the doorway, navigating past frantic vampires stacking furniture against windows and distributing crystalline grenades that glowed with otherworldly power.

Wes’s form flickered at the edge of my awareness, his ethereal energy struggling against whatever interference disrupted the ghostly plane. His features contracted with effort, his mouth moving urgently.

“Sophie—” His voice sounded distorted, like a radio station caught between frequencies. “They’re trying to—” Static consumed his warning, his form dispersing like smoke in a strong wind, leaving nothing but cold, empty air where he had stood.

My heart lurched at his disappearance. In the few weeks since discovering his ghost, I’d grown accustomed to his presence, a comforting constant amid the chaos my life had become. Losing him again, even temporarily, carved a hollow space in my chest that felt painfully familiar—that same emptiness I’d carried for years after his death.

The ground trembled beneath our feet as another wave of power crashed against the wards. Books tumbled from shelves, pages fluttering like startled birds. The ancient chandelier swayed ominously overhead, chains clanging. A patrol of vampires rushed past the open door, their faces grim with battle-readiness.

“Come,” Isador said, striding toward the doorway. “To the Selenarium. Now.”

Javier’s hand settled at the small of my back. His fingers pressed against my spine, not guiding but supporting.

We moved through the corridors with urgent purpose, Javier and Bastian flanking me while Isador led us toward the secret staircase. Reiji followed close behind, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings. Vampires sprinted past us, carrying weapons or supplies, some calling out status reports about parts of the sanctuary.

The hidden passage in the floor opened at Isador’s touch, the marble dissolving to reveal the spiraling stone staircase leading down into darkness. Silver sigils flared to life along the curved wall, their pulsing light casting strange shadows across our faces, transforming familiar features into something otherworldly.

“Only those accepted by the goddess may enter the chamber at the bottom,” Isador told Reiji, her voice carrying a note of solemn warning. “Queens and their bound consorts.”

A thread of panic wove through me again. “What about Micah?” The thought of my son being barred from safety while the sanctuary crumbled around him sent ice through my veins.

“Your son will be granted passage,” Isador assured me, her copper eyes softening. “He carries your blood. The goddess always recognizes her own.”

Reiji’s face betrayed nothing at this exchange, but something in his eyes shifted, a subtle assessment recalibrating what he knew—or what he thought he knew—about me and my son. “I’m coming with you,” Reiji said, lifting his chin slightly. “At least down the stairs. If I can’t cross the threshold, so be it.”

“You won’t be able to cross,” Isador snapped.

A shudder rippled through the sanctuary, stronger than before. The sound of breaking stone echoed from somewhere above us.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, my voice tight with urgency. “Let’s go!”

We hurried down the stairs, each step taking us deeper into the sanctuary’s heart. The silver sigils brightened as I passed. The air grew heavier with each step, charged with ancient power and the promise of divine secrets.

I stepped through the archway beyond the base of the stairs without hesitation, and Isador, Bastian, and Javier filed in behind me. I spun around at Reiji’s sharp intake of breath. He stood frozen at the threshold, one hand raised against an invisible barrier. Silver light rippled from the archway where his palm pressed against it, like disturbed water reflecting moonlight.

I caught the flicker of disappointment—or perhaps resignation—in his eyes. “I’ll stand guard from here,” he vowed.

Javier’s hand pressed gently at my back, his touch drawing me back to the immediate danger.

I turned away from Reiji reluctantly and took in the chamber fully. The crystalline sphere at the apex of the domed ceiling glowed crimson, like a captured blood moon. The red sigils marking the moon phases in a large circle on the stone floor pulsed in time with my heartbeat.

Urgent voices and echoing footsteps drew my attention back to the archway. Ash passed through, followed by Micah, then Thane. Micah’s eyes widened at the sight of me, relief and confusion warring in his expression.

I crossed to him quickly, pulling him into a tight hug. “Are you okay?” I asked, pulling away and scanning him for any sign of injury.

He nodded, his eyes wide as he took in our surroundings. “What’s happening? What is this place?”

“The Selenarium,” I explained, keeping my voice steady despite the chaos around us. “The safest place in the Moon Sanctuary.”

The floor shook again, stone groaning under the assault. Even here, surrounded by the strongest, oldest wards, I could feel the malevolent force pushing against the edges of our defenses.

“Sophie!” Isador said. “You must act, now!”