The forest was alive with the hush of midnight, the canopy of pines whispering in the breeze. The air was sharp, laced with the scent of moss, damp bark, and lingering smoke from the small fire they had abandoned hours earlier. Selene followed Darius in silence, her steps unsteady on the uneven ground.
Her body still ached from the violent awakening of her wolf. Every joint felt raw, her skin tight over bones that had stretched and cracked. But what unsettled her more than the pain was the man walking a few paces ahead.
The rogue who had saved her life. The rogue who seemed to know more about her than even she did.
Selene wrapped her arms around herself, trying to banish the chill that seeped deeper than her skin. "Where are we going?"
Darius didn't turn. His broad shoulders shifted with each step, muscles moving under his torn shirt. "Away from where they'll be looking for you."
"They?" Selene echoed, a tremor in her voice.
"Hunters. Rogues. Maybe even your father's men," he said flatly. "You've made enemies without realizing it."
Her chest tightened. Of course she had enemies. Rejected by her mate, mocked by her rival, betrayed by her father—her disgrace had been a public spectacle. But why would others care enough to hunt her? She was no Alpha now. She was nothing.
Selene quickened her pace until she was nearly at his side. "You keep saying things like that—like I'm some kind of prize. But I'm not. I'm just the discarded daughter of Alpha Magnus Blackthorn. No one cares if I live or die."
Darius stopped so suddenly she almost collided with him. Slowly, he turned, and for the first time she caught the full weight of his gaze. Storm-grey eyes bore into hers, intense and unyielding.
"Stop lying to yourself," he said, his voice low, rough with something that might have been anger—or something darker. "You don't feel it? The power burning in your veins? The way your wolf didn't just awaken—it ripped its way into this world? That's not normal, Selene."
Her lips parted, words failing. She thought of the fire that had consumed her, the way her wolf's presence still hummed beneath her skin like a restless storm. It had felt wrong, too violent, too consuming.
But she shook her head. "That doesn't mean anything. I'm… different, maybe. But I'm not special."
Darius's mouth curved into a grim smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "You really think ignorance will protect you? That if you pretend you're ordinary, the world will leave you alone? Wake up. Wolves will kill for blood like yours."
Selene's heart stuttered. "Blood like mine? What are you talking about?"
He turned away again, stalking toward a stream that wound its way through the forest. He crouched at the edge, dipping his scarred hands into the water to wash the dried blood from his knuckles. Moonlight caught the jagged marks that ran across his arms—reminders of battles fought and survived.
For a long moment, he said nothing. Selene hovered a few steps behind, torn between demanding answers and fearing them.
Finally, his voice drifted back to her, low and measured. "There are stories… of wolves touched by something greater than the packs. Wolves born with the Moon's fire inside them. Most die young. Their bodies can't contain it. But the ones who survive…" He trailed off, staring at his reflection in the water. "They can change everything."
Selene's mouth went dry. "That's… impossible. My father would have told me if—"
"Your father?" Darius's laugh was sharp, bitter. He stood and faced her again, water dripping from his hands. "Do you really think Alpha Magnus would tell you the truth if it threatened his power? He raised you to be obedient, to carry his name, not to eclipse him."
The words struck harder than she wanted to admit. Her father had barely looked at her when Lucian rejected her, hadn't defended her when Seraphina mocked her, hadn't lifted a finger when the pack called for her exile. She remembered his cold eyes, his silence like a blade across her heart.
Would he have hidden something from her? Of course he would.
Her voice was small when she asked, "Then what am I?"
Darius stepped closer, shadows clinging to him like a cloak. His presence was overwhelming, his height forcing her to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. For a heartbeat, she thought he might not answer.
Then he said, "You're dangerous. And if you survive what's coming, you'll be more powerful than even your father."
Selene's breath caught. The forest seemed to go silent, as if even the trees waited for her response. She wanted to laugh, to deny him, to tell him he was wrong. But deep inside, her wolf stirred, a low growl of agreement reverberating through her bones.
She shook her head, backing away a step. "No. I can't be. I don't want that."
"Want it or not, it's in you," Darius said. "And every wolf who senses it will either try to use you—or destroy you."
The words settled over her like a shroud. For the first time, the weight of her exile felt heavier than humiliation. She wasn't just a rejected mate, or a daughter cast aside. She was prey in a world that would never stop hunting her.
Selene wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trembling. "Then why save me? If I'm such a burden, why not leave me to die?"
Darius's expression shifted, just slightly. The hardness in his eyes flickered, replaced by something she couldn't quite name.
"Because I've seen your kind before," he said finally, his voice softer, though no less haunted. "Once. And I swore if I ever crossed paths with another, I wouldn't stand by and watch them burn."
Her pulse quickened. She wanted to ask who, what had happened, but his face closed off again, the shutters slamming down over his emotions.
Instead, he brushed past her, his shoulder grazing hers with a fleeting warmth. "We move at dawn. Rest while you can. You'll need your strength."
Selene stood frozen, the night pressing in around her, the echo of his words reverberating in her mind.
Blood like yours.
The Moon's fire.
More powerful than your father.
The forest no longer felt like a prison. It felt like a crucible.
And for the first time, Selene realized her rejection was not the end of her story. It was only the beginning.