Chapter 14 Crimson Eyes at the Feast

The Silver Moon Hall shimmered with light that night, but beneath the glitter of candles and polished silver, tension coiled like a serpent waiting to strike.

The feast had been Selena’s order—an act of defiance.

“If he wishes to claim the throne,” she’d said, “then he’ll dine at my table first. Let him see what loyalty looks like when it’s not bought with fear.”

Yet now, as laughter echoed hollowly through the great chamber, she could feel every pair of eyes flickering between her and the man seated at the far end of the table.

Damian Voss.

He looked perfectly at ease among the wolves who had once called him Alpha—leaning back in his chair, a goblet of dark wine in hand, that same dangerous smile playing on his lips. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement every time they met hers.

Selena kept her posture straight, chin high. But the longer his gaze lingered, the more the air thickened—hot, suffocating.

Aiden stood silently behind her, dressed in simple black, serving as her attendant. To most, he was invisible. To Damian, he was a curiosity.

And to Selena… he was the only thing holding her together.

“Tell me, Luna,” Damian said finally, his voice smooth, carrying easily across the table. “Do you still fast before battle, or have you learned to feast before a fight?”

The room went still. Even the music faltered.

Selena’s lips curved into a cool smile. “You mistake a feast for surrender.”

He chuckled. “No, my dear. I mistake it for mourning.”

Her silver eyes narrowed. “You’ve grown crueler.”

He leaned forward, his crimson gaze glinting. “No, Selena. You’ve grown softer.”

The words hit like a slap.

Aiden’s hands clenched behind her chair, his knuckles white. He wanted to move, to defend her—but one look from her froze him in place.

“I see your pet is loyal,” Damian said, his smirk deepening. “Does he speak, or only bark when commanded?”

Aiden looked up, meeting Damian’s eyes for the first time. “I speak when the Luna allows.”

Damian laughed, low and dangerous. “Careful, boy. Obedience can be mistaken for cowardice.”

“And arrogance,” Aiden said quietly, “can be mistaken for strength.”

A few gasps rippled through the hall. Selena’s eyes widened slightly—half warning, half admiration.

Damian’s amusement faltered for a fraction of a second before he smiled again. “You have spirit. I almost like you.”

“Don’t,” Selena said sharply. “He’s not yours to like.”

“Oh, but everything in this hall used to be mine,” Damian murmured. “The walls, the moonlight… even you.”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t look away. “That was another lifetime.”

“And this one,” he said softly, “is my chance to reclaim it.”

The music resumed, but it was a mockery of festivity. Every motion was careful, every laugh forced.

Selena could feel Damian’s gaze devouring her from across the table—measuring, remembering, wanting.

She turned to her wine, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. She’d buried that part of herself long ago—the part that once loved the man now sitting like a predator in her hall.

But the past had a way of clawing through its grave.

Damian raised his goblet. “A toast,” he declared.

Every head turned toward him.

“To the Silver Luna,” he said, his tone deceptively gentle. “May her heart burn as brightly as the moon she worships.”

The words were a dagger wrapped in silk.

Selena lifted her own goblet slowly. “To the Alpha who mistakes fire for power. May he learn which burns longer.”

The crowd murmured, uneasy.

Damian’s grin widened. “You always did have claws, love.”

“And you,” she said coolly, “never learned to fear them.”

For a heartbeat, they simply stared at each other—two storms colliding in silence.

Then Damian’s hand twitched, and the goblet shattered in his grip. Red wine spilled across the tablecloth like blood.

Gasps filled the hall.

He rose slowly, his aura pressing down like a storm. “The Trial of Dominion begins at dawn,” he said. “Eat well, Selena. You’ll need the strength.”

Selena stood too, her own power surging, the air crackling between them. “Don’t mistake my mercy for weakness, Damian. Tomorrow, the Moon will see who truly rules.”

He stepped closer—too close. His voice dropped low, almost intimate. “Careful, Luna. I’ve missed the taste of your defiance.”

Her heartbeat roared in her ears.

Aiden moved before he could stop himself, stepping between them. “You should leave,” he said quietly.

Damian’s crimson eyes flicked to him, burning with amusement. “Protective now, are we? How touching.”

“She’s not your Luna anymore,” Aiden said.

Damian’s smile vanished. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. “We’ll see what the Moon decides about that.”

He turned, his cloak sweeping behind him like a shadow. The hall parted as he walked away, his presence lingering even after he was gone.

When the doors finally closed, Selena exhaled, her hands trembling slightly.

Aiden turned to her, concern etched across his bruised features. “Luna, are you—”

“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice was barely a whisper.

He hesitated. “You don’t have to face him alone.”

She looked at him then—truly looked—and something softened in her eyes. “You think you could stand against him?”

“If it meant protecting you,” he said, “I’d try.”

Her breath hitched. “You really are a fool, Aiden.”

“Maybe,” he said quietly. “But I’m your fool.”

Her lips parted, but before she could respond, the torches flickered—one by one—until the hall plunged into sudden darkness.

A distant voice echoed through the night air, low and haunting.

“Tomorrow, the Moon decides… but tonight, the shadows feast.”

Aiden spun toward the sound, his silver mark glowing faintly beneath his shirt.

And somewhere outside, crimson eyes blinked once in the dark—watching them both.

Cliffhanger: The feast ends in darkness… and something far older than either Alpha or Luna has awakened beneath the Silver Moon.