Selene's POV.

Eliah’s eyes went wide with panic. The glow from the feather was gone.

That could only mean one thing: it had reached its recipient.

Her lips curled in rage. “No… no, no, no—”

She lunged at me and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back so hard my scalp burned.

“Who did you send it to, huh?! Tell me! TELL ME!” she shrieked.

I glared into her eyes and spat on her face.

“You little—!”

She shoved me to the floor, and my knees scraped against the cold marble. Her hand lifted, ready to slap me across the face.

“HELP!” I screamed, my voice raw with desperation. “SOMEONE—!”

Her eyes widened at the sound of footsteps.

Panic seized her.

On instinct, she snatched the silver tray from my bedside table.

And before I could understand what she was doing—she slammed it into her own forehead.

The sound was sickening. Blood immediately began to trickle from the wound.

The door burst open.

Damon. Thorne. Dalia. Damon’s parents. And a stranger—someone I’d never seen before, with intelligent, suspicious eyes.

Damon froze for a split second at the chaotic scene. Then he remembered himself.

There were witnesses.

He rushed toward me. “Selene! Are you okay? What happened?” He shouted, loud and theatrical.

But as he leaned in and grabbed my arms, his lips brushed my ear and whispered coldly:

“What the hell did you do, my Eliah? You’ll pay for this.”

Behind him, Eliah collapsed dramatically, sobbing with fake tremors.

“I—I was just worried about her!” she cried. “We grew up in the same orphanage, and I thought she might be hurting… But she screamed at me! She was afraid I’d take Damon from her—so she threw the tray at me!”

I stared in disbelief as her performance continued.

Damon turned back to me, his expression full of concern, but his eyes narrowed with warning. “Is it true?” he asked sweetly.

I opened my mouth to answer—but someone beat me to it.

“That doesn’t seem likely,” the unfamiliar man said, his voice calm and sharp. “Your wife doesn’t look like she could throw a tray, Mr. Moonvil. She’s barely conscious.”

All eyes turned to him.

Even Eliah stilled.

“I’m Mr. Varkas,” he added. “Here on behalf of the Council to assess the health of the Luna and the child. And frankly—this doesn’t look right.”

My heart pounded.

Hope. It flickered for the first time in days.

But Dalia scoffed, loud and mocking.

“You’ve got it backward, Mr. Varkas. Eliah is the kindest woman in this entire kingdom we've known. That girl? She’s an Arkwell. That blood is cursed. We should be asking what she did.”

Mr. Varkas turned to me, his eyes narrowing.

“You’re… an Arkwell?”

I felt the shame crawling up my spine. I couldn’t lie. I nodded.

Disgust twisted his face. “No wonder.”

The hope I felt shriveled instantly.

I looked away, teeth clenched, nails digging into my palms.

But then—he surprised me.

“Even so,” he said firmly, “you should treat her with more dignity. She’s bearing the chosen moon child. If this is how you treat its mother, what will that say when the child rules us one day?”

Felicity’s saccharine smile returned. “Don’t worry, we’ll teach her her place. Come along, now. We have more important matters to discuss.”

Dalia sneered at me as she followed her aunt and uncle. Mr. Varkas spared me a last glance—less cruel, more calculating—before exiting too.

Thorne lingered at the door. His eyes held pity. But when Damon shot him a warning glance, he looked away and left.

And then it was just Damon.

Eliah.

And me.

Damon’s hand shot out and wrapped around my throat.

I gasped, clawing weakly at his arm. I was too dazed, too weak.

Damon’s hand shot out and wrapped around my throat.

I gasped, clawing weakly at his arm. I was too dazed, too weak.

He leaned down, his voice venomous. “You dared humiliate her. You ruined everything.”

Eliah stood behind him, crying dramatically for effect, but her eyes glinted with triumph.

“She scratched me,” she sobbed. “She pushed me. I thought she was going to kill me.”

Damon’s eyes burned into mine. “Enough. I’m done. At midnight, you're going to have surgery. I won’t let you threaten Eliah or my heir again.”

“No!” I choked out, my voice shaking. “S-Santino… my brother… he’s coming tomorrow. If you kill me now, the world will know—!”

Damon sneered, tightening his grip before shoving me back. “Even if the world knows you died in surgery, what could they do? We’ll say we had to operate because your condition was critical. Because we tried to save you. Poor Selene.”

His voice dripped with malice.

I shook my head, struggling to breathe through the crushing despair. “No… he’s coming. My brother will stop you—”

Damon chuckled cruelly. “Do you really think your precious brother will make it back in time?”

The words froze in my throat.

“What… what did you do to my brother?” My voice trembled.

“I set a bounty on his head,” Damon said coldly. “A generous one. And let’s be honest… everyone out there would love to be the one to take down an Arkwell.”

My breath hitched.

My vision blurred—not just from the pain or the blood on my face, but from the fear curling into every bone.

They were going to kill me. And now… maybe my brother too.

Damon turned away, gently guiding Eliah like she was something fragile. She leaned on him dramatically, still playing her part. From over his shoulder, she looked back at me with the softest, sweetest smile.

Triumphant.

The door shut behind them with a sharp click.

And I was left trembling, barely able to lift my own body.

W-What should I do...?

Selene's POV.

The door creaked open again. A maid returned to the room to clean me up after Damon and Eliah left, her eyes skimming over the bruises blooming across my body. I could tell she was scared. They all were.

I sat up as best I could, blood still dried on my temple from where Eliah had slammed the tray on her own forehead and framed me for it. My limbs trembled, but I forced my voice steady.

“I can give you all of my treasures,” I whispered, nodding to the vanity where a velvet box lay tucked behind the mirror. “They’re all in there. Gold, gems... the ones my mother gave me before she died.”

The maid froze. Her eyes flicked to the box, then back to me.

“It’s nothing hard,” I added quickly. “Can you just do me a favor? Please. Find me something that can boost my strength. Anything. Just an hour, that’s all I need.”

She hesitated again, biting her lip. But then, slowly, she nodded. Her eyes darted toward the door, then she scurried out like a shadow.

I exhaled shakily, my hands trembling in my lap. I had to survive tonight. I had to. My brother—Santino—was still out there. He would come back. I had to hold on.

Later that night, Thorne returned, eyes cold and distant, as the same maid quietly helped lift me onto a stretcher. My body felt like dead weight. I struggled, trying to resist, but I was too weak. They strapped me down as if I were some wild animal.

“Eliah,” I muttered, my voice hoarse. “You’ll never win.”

She only smiled and stepped forward, humming a cheerful tune. The sound sent a chill down my spine. Everyone in the room flinched. Is this the kind woman they believed in? Is this the "angel" Damon defended?

She leaned close, her breath brushing against my cheek.

“Goodbye,” she whispered, her lips curling into a vicious smile. “Enjoy the show. I’ll be standing on the balcony with my son, watching the entire kingdom bow to us. You? You’ll be just a whisper of a mistake.”

They pushed the stretcher forward. My breath came in shallow gasps. Every bump sent pain up my spine. We stopped near the main hall where Mrs. Moonvil stood in regal silence.

“I accepted you into this family,” she said coolly, “but you turned out to be worse than we feared. All this poison… and treachery.”

Lies. All lies. But no one here wanted the truth. Eliah had wrapped them all in a neat little fantasy where she was the saint, and I was the curse.

“I will pay you all back,” I said, voice raw, eyes burning. “Tenfold.”

That was all I managed before Thorne dragged the stretcher forward, away from the judgmental glares, away from the whispers of the court that had already decided my fate.

Mrs. Moonvil’s face twisted in rage. “We tried to help you. And this is how you repay us?”

Outside, the halls filled with panic. Staff and maids—those not in the know—rushed about, clearly unsettled by the sight of their Luna being wheeled into the emergency wing like a dying animal. They didn't know what was happening. Not yet.

The poison coursed faster through my veins. The world tilted, spinning wildly. I clenched my hand into a fist, digging my nails so deep that blood welled up. I had to stay awake. I couldn’t pass out now.

I looked to the maids pushing me and saw Thorne already ahead, preparing the surgical instruments. He wouldn't dare defy Damon. Not anymore.

Then—my pocket. I tapped it with my fingertips. Yes. The vial was still there.

Now.

With one swift motion, I slipped my hand in and pierced myself with the hidden syringe. Fire tore through my body, hot and violent. The serum worked. My limbs twitched, strength slowly trickling back.

Not much time.

I lunged, elbowing one of the maids and sending the stretcher lurching. I rolled off it, hitting the floor hard, but I didn’t stop. I scrambled up, staggering through the corridor. My heart pounded like thunder in my ears.

Ten minutes. That was all I had.

I ran, weaving through empty halls, past stunned staff too shocked to react. My bare feet slapped the cold tiles as I rushed toward the eastern gate—the one guarded by the fewest wolves. If I could just reach the forest. Just ten more steps…

But something slammed into my back with brute force.

I hit the ground with a grunt, pain exploding in my ribs.

A hand grabbed my ankle and yanked me back.

Damon.

His eyes burned with fury, his breath hot against my neck as he hauled me up like I weighed nothing.

“Did you really think you could escape me?” he snarled. “You picked the quietest route—foolish. That just means I can drag you back without anyone asking questions.”

He flung me over his shoulder and marched back through the halls.

“Fight all you want, Selene,” he said, his voice cold. “Your time is up.”

The sterile light of the surgical room blinded me. I was thrown onto the table, my wrists strapped down. Thorne stood above me with a scalpel in one hand, hesitation in his eyes.

“Don’t do this,” I croaked. “Thorne… please.”

But he didn’t respond.

My stomach tightened with dread. The baby inside me shifted—faint, but still alive.

No. No, please.

My womb burned. My baby squirmed inside me weakly.

Not my baby.

Thorne injected the anesthesia once. Twice. A third time. My mind began to fade, but I gritted my teeth.

Not yet. Not like this.

I screamed. Or at least, I thought I did. My throat burned, but no sound came out. My eyes were heavy, my limbs numb. I felt the scalpel. I felt them opening me.

My baby…

Then—

BOOM!

A deafening explosion rocked the walls. Smoke filled the room.

The lights above me flickered. Alarms blared. I heard shouting—wolves running, someone coughing, glass shattering.

What—?

What just happened?

My mind screamed to stay awake, but the potion had worn off.

I tried to move.

Tried to speak.

Tried to reach my baby one last time.

Then darkness swallowed me whole.

Selene's POV.

Darkness.

Thick, endless, suffocating darkness. It wrapped around me like a second skin, heavy and cold. I tried to move, but my limbs didn’t respond. I tried to scream, but the sound died in my throat.

Am I dead?

A soft glow appeared in the distance, a warm, gentle light that broke through the void like a single star in an endless sky. I blinked, and the light pulsed softly, calling to me.

With aching steps, I walked toward it.

The shadows began to peel away, and soon I stood in a field of golden grass under a sky painted with soft pastels. A gentle breeze kissed my cheek, and I heard laughter—warm, familiar, healing.

“Santino?” I whispered.

He was there.

My brother stood just ahead of me, kneeling on the grass, laughing as he played with a small boy. The child was barely older than a toddler, cheeks flushed, his silver hair catching the light like moonlit silk. His laughter was a melody I had never heard, and yet I knew it like I’d known it forever.

My breath caught.

Was that… my baby?

My heart clenched painfully in my chest. My knees buckled, and I fell to the grass, covering my mouth as silent sobs shook me. The boy turned toward me, his innocent eyes sparkling with love and joy. Santino looked up too, smiling, his gaze soft and full of pride.

“Come here, Selene,” he called gently, like he used to when we were kids and I’d fallen and scraped my knees. “We’re waiting for you.”

I reached toward them, crawling forward with trembling hands.

But then—everything shattered.

The grass withered beneath me. The sky turned crimson. Laughter became a scream.

“Santino?” I cried, eyes wide.

He was on the ground.

Covered in blood.

His head—gone. His body torn to pieces, clawed by savage wolves. The scent of iron and rot filled the air. The world spun again.

“No. No, please!”

A few feet away, I saw something even worse—a tiny, underdeveloped body. A baby. Limbs barely formed. Blue, lifeless, discarded like trash.

“My baby!” I screamed, crawling toward it, cradling the tiny figure in my arms.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you... I’m so sorry…”

Pain ripped through me—not just in my chest, not just in my heart—but in my soul. I shook, screamed, cried until my throat tore.

And then—

A voice.

Faint. Muffled.

“Selene?”

I heard it through the fog, like someone calling from the other side of the ocean.

“Selene, stay with us.”

The light around me flickered. Something was tugging me. My body twisted, pulled upward. It felt like my bones were breaking apart, my veins freezing over. My skull throbbed, my mind spun, and the pain—

Gods, the pain.

It was everywhere. My skin, my lungs, my womb. Everything ached. My baby. My brother. Dead. Gone. Ripped from me.

I wanted to stay in the dark. I wanted to die.

But something wouldn't let me.

And then—

Light.

Blinding, sterile light. A flashlight was in my face. I gasped, instinctively flinching away, my throat raw as I jolted upright.

The doctor dropped the light in shock.

I was breathing. I was alive.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, stunned. His voice was deep, calm—but there was a flicker of awe in it. “By the stars, she woke up.”

I scanned the room, chest rising and falling rapidly. Five strangers stared back at me, each one distinct—each one not human.

Two women. Two men. And the doctor.

They were… beautiful. Otherworldly.

But their eyes. Their eyes.

Golden. Crimson. Indigo. Glowing slightly even in the well-lit room.

My breath caught.

Vampires.

I pushed myself back, fists clenched weakly. I had no strength, but my instincts screamed at me to be ready.

“Please, calm down,” the blonde woman said quickly, stepping forward with her hands raised. She was stunning—curves, gold hair, confidence radiating off her like heat from a flame. “We’re not here to hurt you.”

“I’m Rachelle,” she said gently. “This is Agatha—” she gestured to a petite, a woman wearing eye glasses but that didn't her beauty “—Spencer,” a hulking man who looked like a wall of muscle with arms crossed, “and Pierce.” The last one was lean, tall, and devastatingly handsome, with a lazy smirk and eyes that gleamed like firelight.

“And the man who checked your vitals is Winston,” she added. “He’s... well, our father, sort of. The one who keeps us alive.”

Before I could respond, another woman entered—elegant, mature, with silver-streaked hair and warm eyes.

“This is Carmella,” Winston said softly. “The mother of our little family.”

I looked between them, my throat tightening.

“What is this place?” I rasped. “Where... where am I?”

Before anyone could answer, a smooth voice came from the open window.

“Aren’t you the one who sent me the message?”

I turned my head sharply.

A man stepped through the window, as if the laws of gravity bowed to him. Midnight-black hair. Ruby eyes that glowed like embers. Taller than anyone else here. The moment our eyes met, I froze.

Him.

I’d only met him once—briefly. A wanderer in the woods, wounded. I had helped him. He’d given me a single enchanted feather in return. “If you ever need me,” he’d said, “just let this go on the wind.”

I had never known his name.

But I had trusted him.

My lips trembled. My eyes burned again.

“Y-you got my message?” I whispered.

He nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry I came late. I was in the human world. By the time the magic reached me, you were already on that table.”

I broke.

Everything poured out of me in a shuddering, guttural scream as I sobbed.

“They killed my brother!” I cried. “They tore him to pieces! And my baby—my child—he’s gone! They opened me up, they cut me open like I was nothing—like I was just—!”

My voice shattered. I collapsed forward, fists beating weakly against the man’s chest as he held me, murmuring soft apologies I couldn’t even hear.

“I lost everything,” I whispered. “I have nothing left…”

He held me tighter.

“Selene,” he said gently, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes.

“There’s something you need to know… about your brother and your baby…”