Chapter 24 Nightmare
Selene fell asleep beneath Lunaria without realizing when it happened.
One moment, she had been awake with thoughts tangled, heart heavy, fingers resting on the warm cover of the book and the next, the world had quieted around her. Not the silence of emptiness, but the kind that wrapped gently around her senses, easing her into rest whether she wanted it or not.
The massive roots of Lunaria cradled her like a natural seat, curved and smooth from centuries of moonlight and time. Above her, the ancient tree breathed softly, its luminous leaves pulsing in slow, steady rhythms. Each glow rose and faded like a heartbeat, synchronized not just with the moon above but with Selene herself.
The book on her lap began to glow. At first, it was faint. A soft silver shimmer tracing the carvings on its cover. The wolf etched into the leather seemed almost alive now, its raised head catching the moonlight. The goddess figure above it gleamed gently, her arms still wrapped around the moon, the hourglass inside glowing brighter with every passing second.
Selene’s hourglass mark answered. Beneath the sleeve of her uniform, the faint outline on her wrist pulsed—once, twice—warming her skin. Lunaria responded in kind.
The leaves brightened, their light deepening into shades of pale blue and gold. Trails of glowing dust drifted through the air like falling stars, settling briefly around Selene before dissolving into nothing. The tree did not move, did not speak, did not stir but it watched and so did someone else. High above her, nestled against one of Lunaria’s thick branches, sat a figure cloaked in shadow.
Ryzen..
Ryzen had been sitting among Lunaria’s branches since Selene arrived, though few would have noticed him even if they had looked directly up. He blended easily with the shadows, his presence is quiet, measured, and careful.
He leaned comfortably against the trunk, one leg bent, the other dangling loosely beneath him. From this height, the clearing stretched wide and open below, every path visible, every shift in the air easy to sense. Yet his gaze had never truly left Selene. Not when she arrived, not when she touched the tree, and certainly not now. Moonlight spilled through the branches, catching the sharp lines of his face. His expression was calm, unreadable to anyone who didn’t know him well.
Ryzen’s gaze dropped to the book resting on Selene’s lap, the silver glow reflecting in his eyes The moment Selene moved, his body reacted before thought could catch up.
He shifted back, melting deeper into the cover of leaves and branches. The glow dimmed instinctively around him as he steadied his breath, eyes fixed on the figure below.
Selene did not wake up.
Her breathing remained slow. The tension in her shoulders eased again, and her grip on the book loosened. The glow around the hourglass mark softened, returning to its gentle rhythm.
Ryzen exhaled quietly.
He leaned forward again, careful this time, settling back into his place on the branch. From there, he watched her with a gaze that carried no urgency and only recognition.
The sight of the book on her lap drew a faint smile to his lips.
“So,” he murmured, voice barely louder than the wind threading through Lunaria’s leaves, “you finally found it.”
The book responded with a low shimmer, the carvings catching the moonlight as if in acknowledgment.
“And it finally found you,” he added, softer now.
His eyes lingered on Selene’s face. In sleep, she looked younger. Less guarded. The sharp awareness she carried through the waking world had faded, replaced by something gentler, something unburdened. It reminded him of how long she had been carrying weight she never asked for.
“..and so did I,” he said quietly.
The mark on her wrist glowed faintly again, visible even from where he sat. Ryzen’s fingers curled lightly against the bark beneath him, grounding himself.
Selene shifted again, her brow furrowing briefly, as if something tugged at her thoughts even in sleep. Ryzen straightened instinctively but this time, he didn’t retreat. He watched as her expression smoothed, her body relaxing once more.
“She’s not ready,” he said softly, more to the tree than to himself.
Lunaria’s leaves flickered, light rippling through the branches like a slow heartbeat.
Ryzen tilted his head slightly. “I know.”
His gaze drifted from Selene to the moon above, hanging low and bright, watching everything without judgment. The Bloodbound Rite was already moving, already cutting into lives and bonds that had once seemed unbreakable. And someone close to Selene believed herself clever enough to control it.
He looked back down at Selene.
“You’re standing in the center of this whether you want to be or not,” he murmured. “But at least now… you’re not blind.”
Selene stirred one last time, settling deeper into the curve of Lunaria’s roots. The book shifted on her lap, closing slightly, its glow dimming as if satisfied.
Ryzen leaned back against the trunk, allowing himself a moment of stillness.
“Sleep,” he said quietly. “You’ll have questions when you wake up and when the time is right, I will be there with the answers.”
…….
Sleep pulled Selene deeper than she expected.
At first, the dream felt gentle and almost comforting. She stood in a wide clearing bathed in pale moonlight, the ground smooth beneath her bare feet. The air was warm, humming softly, like a lullaby carried by the wind. Above her, the moon hung low and full, its light spilling evenly across the land.
In the center of the clearing stood a house.
Not large and not small. Familiar in a way that made Selene’s chest ache. It looked like a place built to shelter laughter and arguments, quiet nights and shared meals. A home.
Two young girls stood at its doorway.
They were close in age. Close enough that, at first glance, they could have been twins. Both had dark hair, both wore simple dresses, both smiled when they noticed Selene watching.
One of them ran forward immediately.
She laughed as she did, light and bright, the sound echoing through the clearing. She threw her arms around Selene’s waist without hesitation, pressing her cheek against Selene’s side like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The other girl stayed behind.
She smiled too but she didn’t move.
Her gaze lingered, sharp in a way that didn’t quite match the softness of her expression. When Selene looked back at her, the girl tilted her head, as if studying her.
The moonlight shifted.
The house behind them seemed to crack but not visibly, not all at once, but subtly. Hairline fractures spread along its walls, like veins beneath skin. The laughter of the girl clinging to Selene didn’t stop, but it sounded thinner now. Less certain.
“Come inside,” the girl at Selene’s side said cheerfully, tugging at her hand. “It’s safe.”
Selene hesitated.
Something tugged at her chest but it was not fear exactly, but unease. She looked past the girl toward the doorway again.
The second girl had stepped back into the shadows.
Only her eyes were visible now, reflecting the moonlight. They glowed faintly. As Selene took a step forward, the ground beneath her shifted.
The clearing darkened.
The house groaned softly, like wood under strain. One of its supports splintered, collapsing inward. The walls didn’t fall, but they leaned, fragile now, held together by something unseen and failing.
The girl at Selene’s side laughed again, louder this time, almost frantic.
“Don’t look back,” she said. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
But Selene couldn’t stop herself.
She turned.
The second girl stood closer now. Too close. Her smile widened, stretching just a little too far, and the shadow beneath her feet spread outward like ink dropped in water.
Behind her, the house cracked open.
Not breaking but rotting.
The girl raised one hand and, without touching it, the walls warped. The roof sagged. Windows shattered silently. The place that had once felt like home began to hollow out from the inside.
Selene’s heart pounded.
“Stop,” she tried to say, but no sound came out.
The moon above flickered.
Suddenly, the scene shifted.
The clearing vanished, replaced by stone.
Selene stood in a vast hall lined with torches. Wolves filled the space, their faces blurred, their eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. At the center stood a raised platform.
And on it….Her aunt.
Bound.
Chains wrapped around her wrists, silver biting into her skin. She stood tall despite it, chin lifted, eyes steady. Bruised but unbroken.
Selene’s breath caught painfully in her throat.
“No,” she whispered, her voice shaking now. “No, please—”
A figure stepped forward.
The Alpha.
His form was tall, imposing, his presence crushing. His face remained indistinct, as if the dream refused to give it clarity. His voice, however, rang loud and clear.
“By decree of the pack,” he said coldly, “you are cast out.”
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
“Exile,” the Alpha continued. “And should you return—death.”
Selene tried to move.
Her legs wouldn’t respond.
Her aunt turned her head then, finally meeting Selene’s gaze. There was no fear in her eyes, only sadness and something like regret.
“Selene,” she said softly.
The chains tightened.
The torches flared.
The crowd closed in.
“Stop!” Selene screamed, the sound tearing out of her chest at last. “Please, don’t touch her! Take me instead!”
She fought against invisible restraints, her heart pounding so hard it hurt. The scene blurred, shadows bleeding into one another, the Alpha’s voice echoing endlessly.
Her aunt’s figure was dragged away, swallowed by darkness.
“NO!” Selene screamed, her voice breaking completely. “Aunt!”
She lurched forward—and woke with a gasp.
Her scream tore from her throat, raw and hoarse, echoing through the clearing beneath Lunaria.
Her chest heaved violently as tears spilled unchecked down her face. The book slipped from her lap and hit the ground beside her with a dull thud, its glow flaring briefly in response.
Selene pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, her whole body shaking.
The dream clung to her like smoke.
Two girls.
One home.
And her aunt, who was punished for something she didn’t understand yet.
Above her, Lunaria’s leaves pulsed softly, the hourglass mark on her wrist glowing in quiet warning.
This wasn’t just a dream.
It was a message.
“Are you okay?”