Chapter 85 THE FADING MOON
SELENE'S POV
The moon is dying.
I feel it long before I see it.
It begins as a subtle pull inside my chest, the kind that makes you pause mid-step and wonder if you imagined it. Then it pulls again. This time harder and deeper. As if something has reached into the center of me and started loosening threads it has no right to touch.
I am crossing the courtyard when it happens.
Wolves train around me, weapons flashing, laughter cutting through the cold air. Someone shouts an order. Someone else shifts mid-run, muscle and bone flowing like water.
Everything seems normal.
Then the sky dims.
It doesn't dim gradually.
It dims abruptly.
A hush ripples outward like a held breath. The laughter dies. Blades lower. Paws falter.
I look up.
The moon flickers.
Not clouds. Not shadow.
It flickers from within.
A tremor runs through the stone beneath my feet. A warrior stumbles and drops to one knee, clutching his chest.
“My link,” he gasps. “Alpha, something’s wrong. I can’t feel my wolf.”
Another voice panics. “Mine won’t respond.”
A third breaks into a howl that fractures halfway through, collapsing into a raw, animal cry.
I already know.
Gods help me, I know.
The moon hangs dull in the sky, its silver washed thin, like a dying coal struggling to hold its glow. It looks tired. Old. Fading.
My mark ignites.
Pain spears through my collarbone, sharp enough to steal my breath. I clutch my chest, but the heat only intensifies, responding to the moon’s weakness like a living thing sensing blood.
No.
Not now.
Not yet.
A whisper slides down my spine, smooth and intimate, carrying the weight of inevitability.
Soon, I will take you.
I stagger.
The Goddess’s voice is no longer distant. No longer echoing.
She is close.
My vision fractures for a heartbeat. Stone blurs. Wolves smear into pale streaks of motion. I see something else layered over reality, a phantom world of floating ruins and oceans boiling beneath a bleeding sky.
Then it snaps back.
Wolf cries tear through the courtyard. Some drop to their knees. Others claw at the ground, snarling at nothing, instincts unraveling without the moon’s anchor.
Metal coats my tongue.
I lift my hand to my face.
Silver blood stains my fingers.
My power is leaking.
Not spilling violently. Not erupting.
Seeping.
Drawn toward the fading moon like a child reaching for a dying mother.
My knees give out.
Strong arms catch me before I hit the stone.
Damien.
He pulls me against him, holding me so tightly his grip shakes. His breath is ragged against my hair.
“Selene,” he says urgently. “Look at me. Are you hurt?”
I lift my head.
Fear stares back at me.
Not fear of battle. Not fear of death.
Fear of loss.
“The moon,” I whisper. “It’s fading. They’re losing their connection.”
His jaw tightens. He already knows. I can feel it in the way his body tenses, in the way his shadow magic coils defensively around us.
“Tell me what you heard,” he murmurs.
My throat burns.
“She said she’s coming for me.”
His hands rise to cradle my face, thumbs brushing trembling skin.
“Tell me she’s lying,” he whispers. “Tell me this is just another manipulation.”
I shake my head.
“She’s getting stronger. Every time the moon weakens, she pulls harder.”
I press my forehead to his chest, listening to his heartbeat, memorizing it.
“She’s trying to take me with her.”
His arms tighten, fierce and desperate.
“I will die before I let that happen.”
The air sharpens.
The mark flares again, pain lancing through my ribs. I cry out, and Damien nearly snarls, a sound pulled straight from his Alpha instincts.
“What was that?”
“She’s calling me,” I whisper. “She wants me closer.”
“To what?”
“To herself.”
“No.”
The word is absolute.
“You are not going to her,” he says. “Not while I am alive.”
I wish it were that simple.
The bond coils tighter, wrapping around my spine, my lungs, my heart. It is not a choice. It never was.
“I don’t think I can stop it,” I say quietly. “If she falls, she’ll drag me with her.”
His hands grip my arms as if he can anchor me through sheer will.
“We will find another way.”
Maybe.
But the moon dims further.
Wolves scream.
The cold crawling across my skin feels like a countdown.
The second bleeding has already passed.
The third is approaching.
And the Goddess is preparing to claim what she believes is hers.
DAMIEN'S POV
I carry her inside because she is shaking too hard to stand and because I cannot bear to watch the pack fracture around her.
Wolves snarl at shadows. Some collapse. Others pace like caged beasts. The moon is our anchor, and without it, instinct turns feral.
I lay her gently on the bed.
Her glow is faint. Unsteady.
It terrifies me more than fire ever could.
I kneel in front of her.
“Look at me,” I say.
She does.
And the fear in her eyes nearly destroys me.
“I’m losing myself,” she whispers. “Every time she speaks, something slips away.”
I take her hands.
“Then I will hold what you lose,” I say. “I will hold it until you take it back.”
Her lips tremble.
“You’re lying.”
The words hit like a blade.
“You’re lying to me,” she continues softly. “Every time you look at me, it feels like goodbye.”
My throat closes.
Outside, another scream cuts through the air. The moon flickers again.
The Goddess whispers through her skin.
Soon.
Soon.
Selene cups my cheek, gentle, loving, unbearably brave.
“Stop lying to me,” she whispers. “I can’t fight what’s coming if you won’t stand with me.”
She is right.
And the truth burns my mouth like poison.
Because if I tell her, I destroy her peace.
If I don’t, I destroy her trust.
And time is running out.
I pull her into my arms, holding her as the world begins to tilt toward ruin.