"Not all wounds bleed; some settle quietly in the soul, where duty dares not look."
—LadyHedti
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Selene stepped deeper into the trees, the soft crunch of frost underfoot her only company. The children's ball hung loose in her hand, but she had already forgotten it. That scent... it was him. Ronan. Her pulse stirred with both hope and dread. She moved like shadow beneath the old trees, drawn by instinct and something darker. Then she saw them.
They stood near the half-frozen spring, where sunlight flickered through the thinning branches. Ronan. And Maya, the physician's daughter. Her hands rested on his chest, delicate yet possessive. Selene stilled.
"We cannot keep meeting like this," Maya whispered, her voice soft but edged. "People have begun to speak. The whispers are growing."
Selene's stomach turned. Whispers? And yet I've heard none of them.
"When will you tell her?" Maya asked, tilting her face toward him.
Ronan lifted his hand to her cheek, a tender gesture he had never given Selene. "Soon."
Maya stepped away, her expression weary. "You have said that for four years and a half, Ronan."
Selene's hand curled tight around the ball. Four years and a half. That could not be right. Their marriage was just a few days from its fifth year. So he has loved another for nearly all the time he has belonged to me.
They were not fated mates. She had known this. When her father, the Great Alpha Eryon, fell in battle against the Nightshade Pack, the land trembled beneath the weight of his name. He had not died for weakness or age, but for power—for standing against the strongest packs to claim his place among them.
His death left the White Claw pack vulnerable. She, his only heir, stood next in line. A female bearing the Alpha's blood had never ruled without challenge. The elders feared collapse, invasion. They needed strength to steady the pack's name. So they asked her to marry. She chose Ronan. He had been comfort in her grief, the son of her father's most trusted Beta. Trusted. Loyal. Familiar. It made sense. The union would make him Alpha by law, and keep the bloodline tied to honor.
Matilda the pack seer had said they were Omiss, the rare ones born without fated mates, destined instead to shape their own bond. She had believed it. But now Maya stood there with fire in her voice and Ronan's affection in her hands.
"She wears my title, Ronan. I am your mate," Maya said, her voice low and trembling. "And yet I am made to sneak and hide like shame clings to me. It is not I who have sinned, but her—binding you to a vow she knew belonged to another."
"Maya," Ronan's voice was firmer now, cautious. "She is your Luna."
"No. I am your Luna, Ronan." Maya's voice cracked. "I am your mate. When will you say it aloud? When will you stop letting her wear the title that belongs to me? This secrecy is killing me. Every day apart, every moment we steal... it tears me apart. Talk to the elders. They'll listen to you. You're the Alpha now. Please, my love... end this suffering."
Selene had not moved, not breathed. The cold that kissed her skin now bit through to her bones. A single thought took root and would not let go.
He has found his mate.
She stumbled back, a crack of twigs beneath her boot. The sound was small, but the silence made it echo like thunder. Ronan stilled, turning half toward the trees, his brow drawn in suspicion. Selene did not wait to be seen. She turned and fled, the ball falling from her hand, forgotten.
The wind clawed at her as she ran. Her mind burned with everything she had heard. Her hands trembled, her chest ached, her eyes stung, but no tears fell.
He has found his mate.
And all this time she thought fate had denied them both. She crossed the garden wall, her lungs burning as she slowed. Her marriage had been born from duty, forged in grief and politics, but she had carried it like a blade and a shield. Now it felt like a chain, rusted and cracking. She pressed her palm to the cold stone and leaned into it, eyes shut against the truth that now clawed its way to the surface.
But the uneasiness wasn't just from what she had learned. It was from within.
A pressure curled low in her spine. Her
heartbeat shifted, too loud, too fast. Her breath hitched. She pushed off the wall, glancing down at her hands. Trembling. Fingers twitching. Then the sharp sting.
Her claws.
She turned on instinct and ran.
She barely made it to her chambers. Her lungs burned. Her vision blurred. Every step felt heavier, like the air itself was turning against her. She slammed the door shut and staggered forward, her knees buckling beneath her. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.
Her claws had slid out without warning. She hadn't called on them. She hadn't even tried to shift. They just... emerged. Her fingers curled unnaturally, tipped in obsidian points that pulsed faintly with heat. Her breath came fast, uneven. Then a sharp, searing pain stabbed through her chest.
She gasped, clutching at her heart as if it might burst through her ribcage. It burned. It burned. Like a furnace lit behind her breastbone. Her palm pressed flat against her chest, trying to cage it, to hold it in. But the moment she touched her skin, she froze.
A glow.
Firelight.
Not from a torch or the setting sun, but from her. Her hand lit with an inner flame, glowing like a living ember.
"No," she whispered.
Shaking, she turned toward the mirror.
Her reflection nearly brought her to her knees.
Her skin shimmered with an unnatural light. She pulled at the ties of her gown, baring her chest, and what she saw made her stumble. The glow wasn't just skin deep. It shone through her. Beneath the surface, woven through her very being, vines of golden light twisted around her heart, pulsing in time with its frantic beat.
She could see her heart.
Her throat ached suddenly, a deep burn rising from her core to her mouth, like something was rising, something not meant to be held back.
Then she saw her eyes.
Gone was the stormy grey.
Now they were violet. No—violent. Piercing. Blinding. Like shards of amethyst struck by lightning. She didn't recognize herself. Didn't recognize the thing staring back.
"What's happening to me?" she breathed.
Her knees buckled. She stumbled back, stepping on the folds of her gown. Her foot slipped. The world tilted. Her head struck the floor with a sickening thud.
Darkness took her.
Surprise!!
I know you expected the twist at the beginning... but did you expect this at the end?
Yeah. Me neither.🌓