*Selene*
The morning after the vial, the city feels different.
Not because Eros suddenly stopped pulsing with sin, secrets, and smoke—but because I'm different.
I can feel everything.
Every heartbeat from three blocks away. Every lie that hangs on a tongue before it's spoken. The whisper of wind slipping through alleyways and the static charge before a storm breaks.
It's as if the world's skin had receded—and under it, I can see what's real.
Julian stands in the kitchen when I come in, shirtless, hair dripping, mug in his hand. But his smile is strained.
"You were out all night."
I push open the door to the fridge to avoid his gaze. "I was here. On the roof."
"Gazing up at the moon?"
"No." I pause. "Becoming something else."
That makes him turn around. "What does that mean, Selene?"
"It means whatever Vael gave me—it worked."
"Is that good?"
I glance at him at last. "I don't know yet."
He doesn't respond for a moment. Just looks at me with the quiet intensity he always wears like armor. But now I see the cracks.
"Julian," I whisper, "are you afraid of me?"
He doesn't lie. "A little."
It's the honesty that guts me. Not the fear.
"I won't hurt you," I whisper.
"I know," he says. "I'm not worried you'll hurt me. I'm worried you'll leave me behind."
That freezes me in my tracks.
Because I will.
Because I may have to.
⟡
Later that afternoon, I head back to Velvet Veins.
Not for a work shift.
For answers.
The moment I walk through the velvet doors, Riven's on me. One look at my eyes and he pulls me into the back room.
"What did you do?"
"I found Vael."
"You drank the blood, didn't you?"
"She told me it was a memory draught."
He growls. "It was Solkari fire. Now it's bound to your soul."
"I saw her, Riven. My mother. I saw. me. A me built out of light."
He sucks in a rough breath and turns away, pacing.
"You've been claimed," he spits.
"I believed the Void claimed people."
"It does. But the fire? It chooses. You're the first in centuries it's chosen, Selene. Do you have any idea what that *means*?"
"No," I snap back. "Tell me why."
Riven rotates slowly, and when he speaks, his voice is hushed. Fearing.
"It means the Crimson Court will come for you."
My stomach plummets. "You said the Court was sleeping."
"They were. But the Solkari bloodline's return? That's a summons to war."
I blink. "War against whom?"
"The old families. The Wraithborn. Those who like to keep power hidden."
"They'll kill me?"
"No," Riven snarls. "They'll try to use you first. *Then* kill you."
⟡
In the evening, the city veils itself with a heavy drizzle, as if Eros is trying to wash away its sins. But some stains penetrate too deeply.
Julian and I walk past black shuttered bodegas and fiery billboards to reach his campus. He insists that he cannot miss his shift at the art gallery.
I bring up the rear, senses jangling at every quiver in the dark.
"I have the feeling someone is following us," I mutter.
Julian glances about. "Maybe it's paranoia."
No. It is not.
We turn the corner—and there they are.
Three of them.
All of them dressed in red uniforms, perfectly cut. Their faintly red-tinted eyes gleam beneath wide-brimmed hats. The middle one is tall, gaunt, beautiful in an intimidating way. Like a wolf who learned to walk on two legs and play at being human.
"Selene Marlowe," he drawls. "At last."
I put myself in front of Julian automatically. "Who are you?"
He inclines at a shallow angle. "Lucien Vex. Ambassador for the Crimson Court. And we've been noticing you… with a lot of interest."
Julian takes over—I seize his wrist without looking around. *Don't.*
Lucien's head retracts sharply. "Your Solkari blaze was a bit of a beacon, by the way. The Court noticed it midcity. And my, how that burn works. You're untutored. Green. A threat."
"Not your affair," I short-tongued.
"Conversely," he strokes. "You're a big problem. The Court stays in balance, Ms. Marlowe. We keep any bloodline from dominating the rest. You… are an aberration. A prophecy taken flesh."
"I didn't ask to be," I snap back.
Lucien smiles, slow and deadly. "Nobody ever does."
And then he lifts his gloved hand.
Chill wind smashes into me—telekinetic force, thick with years. My spine thuds into the brick wall, bruising.
Julian yells.
I stand, fire licking at my skin. My blood *sings*.
"You want fire?" I growl. "Try me."
Light explodes from my fingertips, not fire—*plasma.* White and crackling with energy. It hits Lucien, slamming him back against a parked car. The car shatters in a spray of glass and smoke.
His goons flee.
Julian holds me back.
Lucien stands up—charred, black ichor dripping from his wounds, smiling.
"Oh, yes," he spits. "The Court *will* want you."
He melts away in fog.
⟡
Julian drives us home in silence.
I glance at my hands. They remain softly aglow.
I can't go to class anymore. Can't report to work. Can't traverse the city without being hunted.
I don't belong here. Never did belong.
I glance at Julian. "You need to get out of here."
His fists clench the wheel. "Don't do that."
"You saw what I did. What I am. They'll hunt you to get to me."
"Then let them."
I close my eyes. "Julian—"
"I'm not afraid of them. I'm afraid of losing you."
The car stops at a red light. The quiet stretches.
"I want you to promise me something," he says.
"What?"
"Whatever happens—don't go into the fire alone."
I reach across the seat. Hold his hand.
"I won't," I whisper.
But I'm a liar.
Because deep inside myself, I know I must.
⟡
Back at my apartment, I draw the curtains, lock the door, and lie back on the couch, observing the ceiling rend like rusty paint over secrets.
My skin still warm. My pulse askew. I needn't even eat, and yet I feel like I could suck the moon dry.
This is the beginning.
I am no longer in hiding.
I am no longer cursed.
I am chosen.
And now the Crimson Court desires to claim me.
They will come again.
With suits, smiles, and bloody contracts.
But I am no longer that terrified girl in the alley.
I am Solkari.
I am fire.
And I will burn them all to ashes if I have to.