Chapter 53 THE POISONED MOON
“And I,” I reply, stepping back with a smirk, “decide who bleeds on that stage.”
As he turns to leave, I call after him, “Priest.”
He pauses.
“Tell the stars,” I say, “that their chosen daughter won’t live to see the next moonrise.”
His grin stretches unnaturally wide. “We will see, Luna. The Goddess has many daughters. And fire… always seeks its own end.”
The door closes behind him.
I stare at the vial for a long, reverent moment. My heart hums with power—not magic, but anticipation.
Selene Thorne, the glowing little lamb Kael once adored, the fragile prophecy-child everyone whispered about…
…was finally within reach.
Breakable.
Killable.
I walk to the balcony overlooking the SilverMist courtyard. Torches flicker below. Wolves train in formation. The night air tastes of iron and frost.
I lift the vial to the moonlight.
“Burn your kingdom,” I whisper. “Burn your pack. Burn your mate.”
My smile sharpens into something feral.
“And when there is nothing left to scorch…”
I close my fist around the vial.
“I will finish what you started.”
The first sign is the silence.
Not the peaceful kind — no. This silence is wrong. Heavy. Smothering.
A silence that feels like the forest itself is holding a dying breath.
I wake in darkness, heart hammering, sweat cold on my skin. The room is dim, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight slipping through the window. But even that light looks… sick. Duller. Tainted.
A chill crawls over my skin.
Something is wrong with the moon.
Something is wrong with me.
I push myself upright, clutching the edge of the bed as dizziness crashes over me. The world tilts. My vision blurs. For a moment, the air tastes metallic—like blood and smoke and something rotten.
Then my power flickers.
Not weakens.
Flickers.
Like a flame about to go out.
“No,” I whisper, pressing a hand to my chest. “Not now. Not—”
But the forest outside answers before I can finish.
A low, confused howl rises from the shadows. Then another. Then dozens more — building into a chaotic chorus. Fear. Agitation. Instinct spiraling into panic.
Blackridge wolves don’t howl like that unless the natural order breaks.
Unless the Moon is sick.
I stumble toward the window, gripping the wall for support. The cold glass meets my palms, and I look up at the sky.
The moon—normally silver, bright, serene—is now dim.
Dying.
A crescent of sickly gray ringed with faint pulses of… black? No, not black. Something darker. Like shadow-blood seeping through cracks.
My breath catches.
“What is happening…”
And then — agony.
A white-hot pain explodes behind my ribs, sharp enough to drop me to my knees. My vision whites out. My power shudders violently, surging up my spine, then collapsing inward like a dying star.
I scream.
The sound rips through the room, echoing like something feral, something wounded. Moonfire bursts from my palms in a tiny spark—then sputters out.
Out.
It goes out.
It has never done that before.
I press trembling fingers to the floor as the pain builds, tearing through my nerves, twisting everything inside me. My heartbeat stutters like it’s being squeezed by invisible hands.
“What… what is this…?”
And then I hear it.
A whisper.
Not loud. Not clear. But unmistakable.
“The moon burns black…”
I flinch. “Who’s there?”
No answer.
Only the forest rustling violently, as if every living thing has sensed the shift. Wolves howl again, but now their voices tilt into panic, sharp and frightened.
The bond between Damien and me hums faintly, but distant — like a heartbeat underwater.
But another bond…
A bond I thought was dead…
It pulses once.
Hard.
Then again — harder.
And suddenly the pain inside me sharpens into something else. Something older. Something familiar.
Kael.
My breath snags.
“No… no, this isn’t possible…”
I broke the bond. I killed it. The Goddess shattered it the night Kael rejected me. It should be nothing but dust.
But now?
Now it feels like claws dragging down my spine.
A tether reawakening. A thread being pulled tight.
And then — a voice, hoarse and furious, echoes in the back of my skull.
Selene…?
I gasp, clutching my head. “Stop— stop— get out—”
But it pushes harder, ripping through me like a blade of fire and memory.
Selene… what’s happening to you?
“No!” My voice cracks. “Stay away—!”
The world shudders. The moon pulses once — black light bursting across the clouds like poison blooming in water.
Everything inside me twists.
My magic spasms again, violent and uncontained. Silver sparks explode from my fingertips, then scatter like dying stars. My stomach lurches, bile rising in my throat.
I collapse fully onto the floor, panting, trembling uncontrollably. My skin is freezing and burning at the same time. My veins feel like molten metal.
Someone pounds on my door. “Selene! Are you alright? Open the door!”
Damien.
But I can’t move. I can barely breathe.
Another pulse of moonlight slams into me. A wave of black-silver agony sweeps through my bones. My scream breaks into a sob as the bond surges again—
Selene! Answer me! What’s wrong?!
I choke on air. “Kael— stop— I don’t want you— I don’t want this—!”
You’re dying.
His voice cracks with something like terror.
I can feel it— I can feel you fading—
Sudden tears blur my vision.
Because he’s right.
My power is flickering.
The Moon is dying.
And something—someone—is poisoning both.
Lyra.
Her name curdles in my mind like spoiled blood.
I try to force myself up, dragging my shaking body toward the door. My knees buckle. I slam against the wall, grasping for the handle. My fingers don’t close properly. My grip fails.
I fall again.
Damien slams his shoulder against the door. Once. Twice.
“Selene! Open the door or I’ll break it!”
But his voice feels distant — muffled by the pounding of the bond I never asked for. The bond Kael is clawing at.
Hold on, he growls through the link. I’m coming— I’m coming for you—
“No…” My whisper is barely air. “Stay away… it’s a trap… it’s poison…”
But he doesn’t hear. Or he doesn’t care.
Through the haze of pain, I see flashes — visions not my own.
Kael gripping his horse’s reins so hard blood streaks his palms.
Soldiers shouting in confusion as he saddles the black war-stallion.
Torches flaring as he screams orders.
The gate of SilverMist Keep slamming open as he rides into the night like a wolf possessed.
I’m coming to you.
His vow slices through me like a promise wrapped in chains.
I won’t lose you again.
Another burst of pain steals my breath. I collapse fully, cheek pressed to the cold floorboards.
“Damien…” I whisper, voice raw. “Please… hurry…”
The door crashes open at last. Damien rushes inside, dropping to his knees beside me. His hands hover over my body, frantic, helpless.
“Selene! Selene, look at me!”
I try. Goddess, I try.
But my eyes keep drifting upward: toward the window, toward the moon bleeding shadow.