The gunshot shattered the silence.
Selene spun—expecting blood, expecting her uncle's body to crumple.
But Elian stood unharmed, frozen in shock.
The bullet had buried itself in the wall—right where her dagger had landed.
A warning shot.
Not a kill.
Selene's heart slammed in her chest, breath coming too fast, too sharp.
She turned to Darius.
"You didn't—" she started, but he cut her off.
"Get him out of here," he said to the guards flanking the doorway.
Elian's face contorted. "So now I'm a prisoner?"
"For now," Darius replied. "You live because she hesitated. That won't happen again."
As the guards pulled Elian from the room, Selene's wolf clawed at her insides—furious, confused, half-convinced she had just betrayed both blood and instinct. Again.
The door slammed behind them, leaving her alone with Darius.
She didn't wait. "Why didn't you shoot him?"
"Because I needed to know what you'd do." He stepped closer, eyes unreadable. "And now I know."
Selene's fists clenched. "So what did I prove? That I'm weak?"
"No," he said. "That you're not like her."
That stopped her cold.
"My mother?"
Darius's gaze hardened. "She didn't hesitate. She killed without blinking. Even when it was someone she loved."
Her breath caught. "You're lying."
"She slit my Beta's throat while he begged her to stop." His voice dropped. "And then she walked away smiling."
Selene didn't know what to say. Her mind couldn't connect the image of her gentle, terrified mother with the killer Darius described.
"No," she whispered. "You're twisting it. You hated her. You hate me."
His voice was low. Controlled. Dangerous. "I didn't always hate her."
That stunned her.
He moved past her then, walking toward the open doorway. But before he left, he said without turning:
"You'll need to choose soon. Loyalty or blood. And if you pick wrong… I'll make sure you don't get the chance to regret it."
They drove back in silence.
Darius didn't look at her once.
But something between them had shifted—something heavier than rage or duty.
Selene sat stiff, arms crossed, eyes on the trees blurring past the window. She couldn't stop thinking about her uncle's face. About the look in Darius's eyes when he spoke of her mother.
What else didn't she know?
Back at the estate, a maid was waiting for her in the hallway. Small. Dark-haired. Nervous.
"Alpha Valtore assigned me," she said with a curtsy. "I'm Thessara. Your new maid."
Selene blinked. "I didn't ask for one."
Thessara gave a tight smile. "He didn't ask if you wanted one."
Behind her, Darius had already vanished.
That night, Selene stood at the mirror, staring at the collar around her throat. The silver band mocked her. A symbol of ownership, of control.
But beneath it, her skin throbbed.
The Moonblood mark was spreading.
A faint shimmer across her collarbone now, not just her wrist.
She touched it—and her wolf surged. Not in pain. Not in rebellion.
In warning.
Something's coming
A knock at her door.
Thassera stepped in, face pale. "You need to see this."
Selene followed her to the eastern wing, where guards were gathered near the courtyard.
A body lay at the center.
Blood soaked the stone beneath it.
She pushed through and froze.
It was one of the council elders.
Throat torn. Eyes wide.
And carved into his chest, in jagged claw marks, were the words:
"She belongs to no one."
Gasps rippled through the guards. Some turned toward her.
Selene stared.
Darius stepped into view, his face a storm.
"Was this you?" he asked, voice low.
She shook her head. "I swear it wasn't."
But in the back of her mind, something coiled.
Because part of her recognized that handwriting.
It looked exactly like hers.