The forest was quieter after the battle, but the silence was heavy, unnatural. It wasn't peace—it was expectation.
Selene felt it in every glance that lingered on her. Wolves who once ignored her now watched her with awe, suspicion, or something closer to fear. They whispered in the shadows, their voices carrying when they thought she couldn't hear.
The human saved him.
She broke the Council's chain.
If she can free one, maybe she can free us all.
At first, Selene wanted to believe it was hope. But the longer it went on, the more it felt like chains. Not of shadow, but of expectation.
One morning, as she left Damon's tent, a young wolf blocked her path. His eyes were wide, desperate.
"My brother," he said hoarsely. "The Council took him months ago. He hasn't been the same since. You have to save him."
Before Selene could answer, another voice broke in. "And my sister!" A female wolf pushed forward, her hands trembling. "She's still out there, marked by their shadow. If you can burn it out—"
Soon more voices rose around her, wolves pressing closer, pleading, begging, demanding.
Selene froze. Her throat closed, the weight of their words crashing down. She wasn't a healer. She wasn't a goddess. She had saved one wolf—barely—and nearly lost herself in the process.
"I… I don't know if I can," she whispered, but the crowd only grew louder.
A snarl cut through the air. Damon shoved past the wolves, his golden eyes blazing.
"Back off," he growled, his voice a whip-crack of authority. The pack instantly stilled, shrinking back from his fury.
He pulled Selene into his arms, his body tense and protective. "She is not yours to claim. Not your savior. Not your weapon. She's mine."
The words silenced the wolves, but Selene felt them cut deeper than Damon intended.
Mine.
Yes, she was his mate. But now she was something more—something Damon couldn't protect her from.
Later, when they were alone, Selene turned on him, her voice trembling with frustration.
"You can't just shut them out like that," she said. "They've lost people, Damon. They're desperate."
"And they'll make you bleed for their desperation," Damon snapped. His hands curled into fists. "Do you think I didn't see what it did to you? You almost broke when you touched that shadow. If I hadn't been there—"
"I didn't break," Selene cut in. Her voice shook, but she stood her ground. "And I won't. Because if I can save them, then I have to try."
Damon's jaw clenched. His golden eyes burned, torn between anger and fear. Finally, he whispered, "Do you have any idea what it does to me? To watch you walk into fire that could consume you? I'd rather face a thousand claws than see you risk yourself again."
Selene softened, reaching for his hand. "And do you know what it does to me, Damon? To see you carry the weight of all of this alone? If my bond can lighten that burden, even a little, then let me."
He closed his eyes, pulling her against his chest. For a long time, neither spoke. The only sound was his heartbeat, steady and strong, and the crackle of the fire.
Finally, Damon whispered, "If you burn, Selene… I burn with you."
Her throat tightened, tears stinging her eyes. She clung to him, knowing it was both a promise and a curse.
Days passed, and word spread of what Selene had done. Wolves came from other packs—rogues, outcasts, the broken—seeking her fire.
Some looked at her with reverence. Others with calculation.
Even Aria began to circle closer, her sharp eyes glinting with something Selene couldn't quite name. Admiration, perhaps. Or hunger.
"You've become more than a mate," Aria said one evening, watching her across the fire. "You're a weapon. And weapons decide wars."
Selene shivered. She didn't want to be a weapon. But she couldn't deny it anymore. Her bond wasn't just hers and Damon's. It was something greater. Something the Council feared—and everyone else wanted.
That night, Selene lay awake beside Damon, staring at the glow of their mark in the darkness.
She remembered the wolf she had freed, his tears, his gratitude. She remembered the wolves begging for their loved ones, their voices breaking with hope.
And she remembered the shadow pressing into her mind, clawing at her spirit, so close to breaking her.
Was she strong enough to face that again? Strong enough to face it many times?
Damon stirred beside her, his arm tightening protectively around her waist. His warmth steadied her, but the questions remained.
Maybe she wasn't strong enough alone.
But with Damon… maybe she was.
Author's Note:
🔥🌙 Selene is now seen as more than Damon's mate—she's hope, savior, weapon. But hope is a heavy crown to wear. Do you think Damon is right to protect her from this burden, or is Selene right to embrace it? Comment your thoughts and don't forget to vote with Power Stones to keep her fire alive! ❤️