Chapter 15 Whispers in the Dark

The moon hung heavy above the Silver Moon Hall, casting long, pale streaks across Selena’s chamber. The feast had ended hours ago, yet sleep refused to come.

Her mind was a battlefield. Damian’s words replayed in her head—taunting, intimate, dangerous.

“I’ve missed the taste of your defiance.”

She pressed her palms against the cold balcony rail, the night wind biting her skin. Below, the forest stretched like a sea of shadows. Every sound—the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves—felt sharper, alive with tension.

She had faced wars, betrayals, and bloodshed. But the way Damian looked at her tonight... that was a war she hadn’t prepared for.

A soft knock echoed through her chamber.

Selena turned sharply, silver eyes narrowing. “Who is it?”

No answer.

Her heartbeat quickened. Slowly, she reached for the dagger hidden beneath her cloak and crossed the room.

The door creaked open before she could touch it.

Damian stepped through—tall, composed, his crimson eyes glimmering in the candlelight.

“Still awake,” he murmured. “I hoped you would be.”

Selena’s voice turned to steel. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Perhaps,” he said, closing the door behind him, “but when did you ever care for rules?”

She took a step back, blade glinting. “You come into my chambers uninvited, after threatening my rule—have you gone mad?”

He smiled faintly. “Mad? No. Just… remembering.”

Her pulse quickened, though she hid it well. “Whatever you think existed between us is gone. Buried.”

“Buried things have a way of crawling back to the surface,” Damian whispered, taking another step forward. “Especially when the moon calls them.”

The scent of him—smoke, pine, and something darker—wrapped around her senses. Her body remembered what her mind refused to.

She tightened her grip on the dagger. “You think this power of yours frightens me?”

His eyes darkened. “It should.”

He moved faster than her eyes could follow. In an instant, her back hit the wall, his hand pressing lightly against her wrist. Not enough to hurt—just enough to remind her how easily he could.

“I could break you,” he said softly, his breath ghosting against her ear.

“Try,” she hissed, twisting her wrist. The blade sliced across his shoulder, just shallow enough to bleed.

Damian froze. Then—he smiled. “Still the same,” he murmured. “Still fire.”

He stepped back, crimson drops staining his shirt. “You think rejecting me will make you stronger? That your heart can forget what it once wanted?”

“It already has.”

“Then why are you trembling?”

Her jaw clenched. She hadn’t realized she was. “Get out.”

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something unreadable—desire, sorrow, regret. “You can deny me all you want, Selena. But the bond doesn’t lie. The Moon still remembers.”

“There is no bond,” she snapped. “Not anymore.”

He paused, then smiled bitterly. “If that’s true… why does your aura still call to mine?”

The air between them pulsed, heavy with power. The room’s torches flickered violently, shadows swirling as if alive. Selena could feel it—the invisible thread stretching between them, the faint hum of something ancient.

She tried to step away, but her legs refused. Her wolf stirred, drawn toward the power radiating from him.

“Stop it,” she whispered, voice trembling with anger and something she refused to name.

“I’m not doing anything,” he said quietly. “You are.”

His hand brushed her cheek—gentle, reverent. The same touch that had once made her feel safe now burned like ice.

“Don’t,” she breathed.

Damian’s expression softened, for the briefest moment. “I don’t want to hurt you, Selena. I want to remind you who we were—before the throne, before the lies.”

She met his gaze. “And I want you to remember who I am now. The Luna you betrayed.”

He flinched, pain flashing through his eyes, quickly replaced by fury. “You think you know betrayal?” His voice lowered to a growl. “You left me for them. For power.”

“I chose my pack over a man drunk on his own.”

The words struck deep. Damian’s aura flared, the temperature dropping until her breath fogged. “Careful, Luna,” he said, his tone dangerous now. “You’re forgetting your place.”

She met his gaze fearlessly. “No, Damian. You’re forgetting yours.”

Their energy collided—silver and crimson, moonlight and blood—crackling through the chamber. The candles blew out at once, plunging the room into darkness.

A whisper followed, soft but not his.

A woman’s voice. Cold. Ancient.

“The Moon binds what pride breaks…”

Both froze.

Selena’s heart slammed against her ribs. “Did you hear that?”

Damian’s expression shifted from fury to confusion. His eyes darted toward the shadows near the window. “That wasn’t you?”

“No.”

The whisper came again, closer this time.

“The past sleeps… until the blood calls…”

The wind howled through the open balcony doors, snuffing out the last ember of light.

Damian turned sharply toward the darkness, claws half-formed. “Someone’s here.”

Selena’s silver aura flared to life, casting ghostly light across the chamber. But no one stood there. Only the faint shimmer of moonlight—and a handprint, glowing faintly, pressed against the stone floor.

Her throat went dry. “That’s impossible…”

Damian’s voice was tight, wary now instead of mocking. “What did you bring into this pack, Selena?”

Before she could answer, the handprint pulsed—and from the shadows, a low, feminine laugh echoed through the air.

“Neither of you belongs to the Moon anymore.”

The torches reignited in a burst of white flame.

Damian stepped in front of Selena instinctively, his crimson eyes scanning the corners of the room.

But the laughter was already fading.

Selena’s dagger slipped slightly in her trembling hand. “Damian,” she whispered, “what is happening?”

He looked back at her, jaw tense, the faintest trace of fear in his eyes. “Something that even Alphas shouldn’t wake.”

Cliffhanger: The whispers of an ancient force have returned, binding Damian and Selena once more—just as the Moon itself begins to turn red.