The Serpent's Whisper
The fortress walls still shuddered long after the last howl faded into the mountains. The sound lingered inside me, a wound that wouldn't close, as if the stone itself remembered the challenge hurled at its gates.
Ciaran had left me caged in his chamber, his command ringing like iron against my ears: Do not move.
As if I'd ever obey.
But the bond had its own leash. It coiled beneath my skin, invisible yet unbreakable, dragging at my bones each time I thought of defying him. I paced the chamber anyway, each step sharp against the stone, fury gnawing at me like a restless beast.
That was when I saw it.
Something out of place.
On the window's stone sill, where the moonlight spilled pale and cold, lay a scrap of silk.
My steps faltered. My breath hitched.
The fabric was small, torn as if ripped from a hem. But I knew it. I would have known it anywhere.
Selene.
Her dresses had always been made of it fine silks brought by traders who never wasted such cloth on someone like me. I remembered how they shimmered when she spun before mirrors, laughing while I watched from the shadows.
My hand trembled as I reached for it. The silk was smooth against my skin, and the faintest scent clung to it. Lilac and smoke.
Her scent.
"No…" My voice cracked, too soft to convince myself. "It can't be."
Selene was back in Ashwood, where she belonged basking in her father's praise, whispering lies into Gabriel's ear, bathing in the safety of her throne of deceit. She couldn't be here. Not in the Lycan King's fortress.
But when I closed my eyes, the memory uncoiled like venom. Her laugh. Sweet and cruel, carved into my bones. The way she leaned close and whispered things no one else could hear.
And now, in the silence of the fortress, I heard her again.
You'll never be wolf, Elara. You'll never be anything.
The words weren't real. They couldn't be. They were memory, madness, both. Yet they pressed sharp against my throat until rage spilled out.
With a choked cry, I tore the silk in half. The fabric ripped like flesh beneath my fingers. My chest heaved, my breaths uneven, fury crashing through me in waves.
If she was here if she had followed me, even into this cursed bond then she had already found a way to poison everything I had left.
The door slammed open.
I spun, the torn silk still clutched in my fists.
Ciaran strode in. His presence filled the chamber instantly, heavy and suffocating, silver fire blazing in his eyes. His aura pressed against me like the weight of a storm, making my knees tremble though I fought to stand tall.
His gaze dropped to my hands. To the shredded silk trembling between my fingers.
"Where did you find that?" His voice was too calm. Too sharp.
My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. "On the sill." My hand shook as I lifted the fabric into the moonlight. "It's hers."
His eyes narrowed, silver flashing like blades unsheathed. "Whose?"
"Selene."
Her name burned as it left me, bitter as poison.
The air thickened instantly. I felt it in my chest, a suffocating weight pressing harder with each heartbeat. Shadows stirred at the edges of the room, as if the fortress itself bristled with the King's fury.
"You will not speak to her," he said, each word cold and deliberate, carved from steel.
The denial only stoked my fire. "She's here, isn't she?" I stepped forward, my voice rising. "Watching me. Spying. She won't stop until she ruins everything until she ruins me."
His jaw flexed. His silence stretched too long, his body still as stone, but the fury in his aura clawed at my skin.
And that silence oh, it was worse than denial. Worse than truth.
It told me enough.
I stepped closer still, the bond sparking like flint between us, scorching me with every inch. "You knew," I whispered. "Didn't you?"
Silver eyes met mine. Hard. Unyielding.
"There are many enemies who want you dead," he said at last, his voice low, almost dangerous in its restraint. "Do not gift them your fear."
But I saw it.
The flicker in his gaze, quick as a breath, gone too fast for most to notice. But I wasn't most. I had lived in Selene's shadow too long not to recognize the moment someone tried to bury a secret.
Recognition. Calculation.
He knew.
Selene was here.
And whatever game she played inside these fortress walls, Ciaran already knew the rules.