The chamber was quiet.
Not silent — not truly — but quiet in a way that let my heartbeat echo in the stone. The fireplace crackled, low and steady. The night beyond the windows was heavy with snow and moonlight.
Lucien sat across from me on the low bench, two glasses of dark wine between us. He didn't speak. He rarely did when he was unraveling. I'd learned to recognize it — the way his jaw set, his shoulders remained tense long after battle, long after the threat was gone.
I watched him from the corner of my eye.
"Is this your brooding face or your thoughtful one?" I asked softly.
He glanced at me. "Both."
"Impressive."
He looked away. "I've had time to practice."
---
I leaned back, my body aching from the training.
Every muscle felt tight and alive. My magic pulsed just under my skin now — like a second heartbeat.
Lucien finally turned to face me. "Tell me what it felt like. When the power surged."
I hesitated. "Like… remembering a name I never knew I had. Like something clicked. She woke up."
"She?"
"My wolf."
He nodded slowly. "She's strong. Wiser than most."
"I think she hates me," I admitted. "For keeping her locked away."
"She doesn't hate you. She protected you. And now… she's ready."
---
Lucien stood and walked to the fireplace. He stared into it for a long time, then said quietly, "I lost someone."
I stilled.
"My mate," he added, confirming what I already knew. "But not the way most think."
I stayed silent. Let him talk.
"She was chosen for me. We weren't bonded. Not truly. It was political. She… accepted her fate. I didn't. She died before I could walk away."
I looked at him. "You blame yourself."
He didn't deny it.
"I buried that guilt," he continued. "Told myself I'd never mate again. Never bond. Never open that door."
He turned to me, eyes shadowed.
"Then I found you."
---
The silence stretched.
I didn't know what to say. But I didn't need to.
Because in that moment, my wolf stirred again.
> "He is not your past," she said in my head. "He is your match."
I gasped softly.
Lucien stepped closer. "What is it?"
"She spoke," I whispered. "My wolf. She spoke."
He went still. "What did she say?"
"That… you're my match."
His eyes searched mine.
"Do you believe her?"
I swallowed hard. "I don't know what I believe anymore."
---
We didn't kiss.
But the space between us thinned.
Lucien raised a hand, but didn't touch me. His fingers hovered near my cheek.
"I want to protect you," he said. "Not because of the prophecy. Because I see you. The way you fight. The way you rise even when you're broken."
I felt something catch in my throat.
"I don't want to be protected," I said. "I want to be… free. To choose. To matter."
"You do."
---
I slept that night in his bed.
Not with him.
But under his protection.
The scent of ash and fur wrapped around me, and for the first time in weeks, I slept without waking — until I wasn't sleeping anymore.
---
In the dream, I stood on a field of glass.
The sky above was red.
Wolves howled in pain. Fire crackled around my feet. I was holding a child — no, two — and both were crying.
Ahead of me stood a cloaked figure.
It had no face.
But it spoke in a woman's voice:
> "Choose your path, Luna. One child will live. One will rule. But not both."
I stepped back.
"No—"
> "Blood must balance the moon. If you rise, he falls. If you bind, he breaks."
"I don't understand—"
> "You will."
---
I woke with a gasp.
My hands were glowing faintly. My skin buzzed. The sigil on my back burned like fresh ink.
Lucien sat upright on the bench by the window.
"You felt it," I said.
He nodded. "Your power spiked. I could feel it from across the keep."
I stood and grabbed his arm. "Something's wrong. The dream—there was a voice. It spoke of choice. Of one child ruling, one dying."
Lucien's face darkened.
"That's part of the forbidden prophecy. The one the Council buried."
"Why?"
"Because it says the Luna who awakens under the Blood Sigil will birth both salvation and destruction."
---
I sat down, heart pounding.
"They want to kill the child," I said. "The one who brings destruction."
"They don't know which one it is," Lucien said. "And neither do we."
"I won't choose," I whispered. "I won't sacrifice one for the other."
Lucien's jaw clenched.
"Then we'll change the prophecy."
---
I felt it again that morning.
A crackling under my skin. The binding spell — the one that had suppressed my wolf all these years — was breaking.
Not from pain.
From will.
My wolf was rising.