The temple still trembled from the weight of the gods' return. Outside, the sky burned with a twilight fire that refused to fade. Storm clouds churned like serpents in battle, splitting open with streaks of red lightning. Wolves, mortals, and hybrids alike cowered as the heavens roared their fury.
But inside the heart of the ruins, silence fell. A silence too heavy, too unnatural. The gods had spoken, and their chains had rattled. Yet their full awakening was not complete.
Selene stood at the center of the altar, her hands slick with her own blood. Her pulse thundered in her ears, but she did not collapse. She stared down at the cracked stones beneath her feet, where the carved insignia of the Crimson Throne glowed faintly, alive with a heat that pulsed like a living heart.
Kai's shadow stretched across her, his presence steady and grounding. But even he was shaken. The beast inside him writhed, claws scraping at his insides, as though it recognized the thing beneath the earth. He took Selene's hand, but his eyes never left the altar.
"This isn't just awakening," he growled. His voice was low, guttural, half-human and half-wolf. "This is a summoning. They're forcing the throne to choose its heir."
Selene's breath hitched. "The Crimson Throne…" she whispered, remembering the stories told in shunned whispers. A throne not made of wood, or gold, or stone—but of blood. Said to have been carved from the body of the first god-slayer, a seat that would only accept one ruler, forged by divine right and violence.
And now it pulsed beneath her feet.
The ground split with a jagged crack, a vein of red energy erupting upward. The air grew heavy, metallic with the stench of blood, and when Selene looked closer, she realized it was not energy—it was liquid. Thick, red, ancient blood seeping from the earth itself.
The altar drank it.
The carvings filled, lines of glowing crimson weaving like veins, crawling up the stone pillars, bleeding light into the sky. Then the altar began to shift, breaking apart, reshaping.
A throne emerged.
Tall, jagged, and terrifyingly beautiful. It shimmered with divine malice, bones and veins carved into its form, dripping with eternal blood that never fell but simply reabsorbed into the throne itself. Its aura screamed of dominion, of submission, of control over gods and mortals alike.
Selene's knees weakened at the sight. Her body screamed to kneel, to obey, but her soul resisted, trembling with fire.
Behind them, voices rose. Not human. Not wolf. Not god. But something between.
"You dare touch what was forged from our war?" The voice was thunder wrapped in venom. A god's voice. One of the chained ancients, pressing through the veil. "Then kneel, blood-born, or be broken."
The throne pulsed brighter, and Selene gasped, clutching her chest. Something inside her answered.
Her blood burned, roaring through her veins like wildfire. She screamed, and for a moment her shadow flared outward, stretching into wings of flame and claws of void.
Kai caught her, his grip tight as he snarled up at the sky. "Don't touch her!" His aura exploded, his wolf tearing at its bindings, his fangs sharpening as the black fire of his curse licked along his arms.
The gods laughed. "Two heirs stand. But only one shall sit. One shall rule. One shall die."
The words etched themselves into the air, searing with divine law. The Crimson Throne responded, its jagged seat glowing brighter, demanding submission, demanding a king or queen.
Selene fell to her knees. The burning in her chest tore upward, flooding her throat, and when she gasped, she spat blood onto the stones. But the blood didn't fade—it slid toward the throne, joining the veins that already pulsed within it.
"No—no!" she panted, her eyes wide with horror. "It's drinking me…"
Kai crouched beside her, rage blazing in his eyes. "Then let it choke. You won't bow to this throne." He looked up at it, defiant, his aura clashing against its demand.
But the throne responded to him, too. Its glow shifted, half its veins turning black instead of crimson, as though sensing his corrupted wolf-blood.
Selene looked at him, realization dawning, fear and awe tangling in her voice. "Kai… it's choosing."
The gods roared above, their voices layering over each other in a storm of madness. "Blood or shadow. Light or curse. Choose your ruler, or the world shall be consumed!"
The throne pulsed once more, violently, sending a wave of energy through the temple. Mortals outside screamed as they were thrown to their knees, blood running from their noses, their ears. Wolves howled in agony, their bodies forced low to the earth. Even the sky dimmed, stars winking out as though holding their breath.
Selene clawed her way upright, swaying, her eyes blazing red-gold. "I won't let them decide for us." Her voice cracked but did not waver. "If one of us must take the throne… it will be by choice. Not chains."
Kai's chest heaved, his heart torn between fury and fear. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to destroy the throne. He wanted to claim it.
But most of all, he wanted her alive.
Selene stumbled closer to the throne. Her blood still dripped, staining its jagged steps, but her hand hovered before it. The veins inside the throne writhed eagerly, like snakes desperate to taste her skin.
Kai caught her wrist before she could touch it. His hand shook, not with weakness, but with restraint. His eyes locked on hers, black flames devouring his irises.
"Selene," he growled, his voice a plea and a command all at once. "If you sit… there's no going back. You'll belong to it."
Her lips trembled, her voice barely a whisper. "What if it's the only way to free us? To break them?"
The gods laughed again, the sound curdling the air. "There is no freedom. There is only the throne."
The temple shuddered, the blood flooding higher, crawling over the stones like a rising tide. The throne pulsed, and the choice pressed harder, demanding submission.
Selene's hand tightened on Kai's. For a heartbeat, neither moved.
Then, with fire in her voice, she whispered, "Then we take it together."
The throne screamed.
The air shattered like glass, reality bending as the Crimson Throne recognized them both. For the first time in its existence, it did not choose one. It chose two.
Blood and shadow merged, crimson and black veins wrapping around each other, fusing, pulsing with terrifying power. The gods above roared in outrage, their chains rattling, the heavens splitting further.
The Crimson Throne was no longer a seat.
It was a weapon.
And it had just crowned them both.