The morning sun barely pierced through the heavy mist blanketing Stormbane Fortress as Selene stood at the balcony of her chambers. Below, the courtyard was alive with soldiers drilling and blacksmiths hammering, yet none of that noise reached her heart. She clutched the Council's scroll tighter in her hands, the crimson wax seal broken but its weight still heavy on her soul.
Last night's conversation with Darius had replayed in her mind without pause. His promise, the fire in his silver eyes, the unspoken vow that even time itself couldn't break. Yet, she couldn't ignore the truth—this summons wasn't just a political maneuver. It was a trap set by forces far older than the Council itself.
From the corner of her vision, movement caught her eye. Darius stood at the far end of the training yard, bare-chested, sweat glistening on his bronze skin as he wielded his broadsword against two opponents at once. His strikes were lethal, each movement fluid, graceful, but feral. Even from a distance, she could feel his wolf humming in resonance with hers—a silent call that made her blood heat.
Her breath hitched. Mate. The word whispered through her chest, a tether pulling her closer to him every second. She gripped the railing until her knuckles turned white, trying to will her heart to stay steady.
A knock at her chamber door interrupted her thoughts.
"Enter," she said softly.
Lady Bryndis, the healer, stepped in, her moon-colored braid trailing down her shoulder. "My lady," she greeted with a low bow. "The High Council's messengers have arrived at the gates. They demand an audience with you and Alpha Stormbane."
Selene's stomach tightened. So soon…
Before she could speak, Darius himself strode into the room, shirtless, his skin still slick from training, sword in hand. His eyes burned like molten silver as they found hers.
"You will not face them alone," he said, voice low, final. "If they want you, they answer to me first."
Selene swallowed hard, the defiance in his voice stirring something deep within her. "Darius… this is more than a summons. They've waited centuries for this moment. If they know who I truly am—what I truly am—they won't hesitate to bind me again."
Darius crossed the room in two long strides, stopping just before her. He reached out, gripping her chin gently but firmly, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.
"Let them try," he growled. "I swore to you—I will not lose you again. Not to prophecy. Not to fate. And certainly not to them."
Her chest rose and fell rapidly under the weight of his vow. Before she could speak, a loud horn sounded from below, echoing through the fortress. The Council had arrived.
The grand hall of Stormbane Fortress was lined with banners of black and silver, the symbol of the Alpha house glinting under the torchlight. Selene walked beside Darius, every step deliberate, her dark gown trailing behind her like midnight smoke. Soldiers lined the walls, their hands gripping hilts, tense and ready. The scent of fear, anticipation, and raw power filled the air.
The massive iron doors creaked open, and three robed figures entered, flanked by armored guards bearing the Council's crest. At their lead, Chancellor Vorell—tall, skeletal, with skin pale as death and eyes as sharp as obsidian blades. When his gaze landed on Selene, it was like a snake tasting the air.
"Lady Raventhorn," he said in a voice like oil. "We have long awaited this day."
Darius stepped in front of Selene, his wolf barely leashed. "Choose your words carefully, Chancellor," he warned, his voice rumbling with dominance. "You stand in my halls."
Vorell's thin lips curled into a mockery of a smile. "Stormbane… still playing the role of protector, I see. But this is not your matter to decide. The girl carries the Sigil of Time. She belongs to the Council by ancient law."
Selene felt the fury roll off Darius in waves, but she stepped forward, placing a calming hand on his arm. "Speak plainly, Chancellor. Why summon me now?"
Vorell's gaze sharpened. "Because the realms are shifting once more. The beast beneath the Forgotten Vale stirs. The bond you share with this Alpha is the last chain that keeps it sealed. Without the Council's guidance, you will fail. And if you fail, our world burns."
Selene's heart pounded. "You mean to control me."
"We mean to save you," Vorell hissed. "To prepare you for what you were born to do. To fulfill the prophecy you've tried so hard to escape."
Darius snarled, stepping between them again. "She will not be your prisoner."
Vorell's expression turned cold as stone. "And what will you do, Stormbane? Defy the laws of time itself? Spill Council blood on sacred ground? You forget—we were there when the Moon Goddess marked her. We know what she is capable of. And we know the cost of letting love blind you."
Selene's blood ran cold. "What cost?" she demanded.
Vorell's gaze softened almost imperceptibly, but his words struck like thunder. "You don't remember… but in every lifetime before this, you have loved this man." He pointed to Darius. "And in every lifetime, your love has doomed you both. You die in his arms, bound by your bond, and the cycle begins anew. The prophecy was never about salvation, Lady Raventhorn. It is about sacrifice."
A heavy silence fell.
Selene felt the floor tilt beneath her, memories flickering at the edges of her mind—visions of fire, of dying in Darius's arms, of being torn from him again and again. Her knees weakened, and for a moment, she thought she might collapse.
Darius caught her, steadying her against his chest. His grip was iron, unyielding. "No," he growled. "Not this time. I don't care what lies you spin. I will not lose her again."
Vorell's voice dropped to a whisper. "Then you doom her once more."
That night, after the Council's departure, Stormbane Fortress was heavy with tension. Selene sat alone in the war chamber, staring at the glowing sigil on her wrist. Every word Vorell had spoken echoed in her skull. Every life… every death… every moment with Darius, only to end in tragedy.
She heard the door creak, felt Darius's presence before he spoke.
"They're wrong," he said, his voice rough. "I don't believe in fate. Not anymore."
Selene turned to face him, tears glinting in her eyes. "And if they're right? If this bond is a curse we can't break?"
Darius walked to her, slowly, deliberately, until he was kneeling before her chair. He took her hands, kissed the glowing sigil on her wrist, and looked up at her with the full force of his wolf blazing in his gaze.
"Then we burn the prophecy to ash," he said. "We rewrite the stars themselves if we must. I don't care how many lifetimes it takes, Selene. I will fight for you. I will fight with you. And if fate wants us to suffer—then let fate suffer instead."
Her breath caught. The bond pulsed between them like a living thing, wrapping them in a cocoon of silver light. The power surged so strongly that the runes on Darius's chest flared, answering the sigil on her wrist. Magic—ancient and wild—swirled around them, lifting strands of their hair like whispers of a forgotten wind.
Selene's tears fell freely as she cupped his face. "I'm so tired of losing you," she whispered.
"Then hold on to me," he said, voice breaking. "And I swear on my blood, on the Moon Goddess herself—we will not die this time."
And as they clung to each other in the candlelit war chamber, the heavens shifted, stars aligning in patterns unseen for centuries. Far beneath the Forgotten Vale, something monstrous stirred… not just awakened by prophecy, but by love so powerful it defied the very threads of time.