Mated To The Twin Alphas

12: Blood And Moonlight

The ride back from the ruins was silent, but the air between us felt heavier than armor. The forest no longer seemed alive — it felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to break.

The Moon’s prophecy clung to my mind, repeating like a heartbeat.

One will love you into ruin. The other will destroy you to save you.

By the time we reached the packhouse, the sun was gone. A red sliver of moon hung in the sky, veiled by clouds that glowed faintly — as though the Goddess herself was watching.

Inside, the tension snapped the moment the door closed.

“We should have destroyed that place,” Darius said first, pacing the room like a caged wolf. His voice was low, rough, almost trembling. “We should have burned it all.”

Damon’s calm broke. “You think we can burn a prophecy? This isn’t something you can fight with fire.”

Darius turned, eyes flashing gold. “And what then, brother? Sit and wait for her to choose which one of us dies?”

My heart stung at the words. “No one is dying.”

He laughed bitterly. “You heard the vision as clearly as I did. It said one of us will destroy you.”

“Or save me,” I said quietly.

The room fell silent. The fire crackled, and I could hear my pulse in my ears. Damon stood between us, his jaw tight.

“This prophecy doesn’t define us,” he said. “We decide what happens next, not the Goddess.”

But his voice lacked conviction, and we all knew it.

Darius stopped pacing and looked at me. “Can you really say that?” His tone softened. “Selene, when that light came in the ruins, you looked at me like you’d already made the choice. Like you knew.”

My breath caught. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

He took a step closer. “Then look at me now.” His voice dropped, raw and trembling. “Tell me you don’t feel it — that pull, that fire. Tell me this bond doesn’t mean something deeper than fate.”

The mark on my wrist flared, heat pulsing through my veins in answer. I swallowed hard, unable to speak.

Damon’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “Enough.”

Darius turned on him, the gold in his eyes darkening. “You don’t get to decide what she feels, Damon.”

“I’m not,” Damon said coldly. “But I will protect her from whatever this curse is — even if that means protecting her from you.”

The two of them stood there, both breathing hard, power thickening the air until it hummed. The twins — same face, same strength, but two opposite forces colliding like storm and flame.

“Stop,” I said, but the word barely left my lips before the bond pulsed again — a sharp, painful surge that sent both of them stumbling.

They clutched their chests at the same time. I felt it too — a splitting ache between my ribs, as if the bond itself was being torn in two.

Damon was the first to recover. “It’s reacting,” he hissed. “To us. To the conflict.”

Darius straightened slowly, sweat shining on his temple. “Or maybe it’s reacting to her indecision.”

The words cut deep, but I saw the pain behind them — not accusation, but fear.

He took a slow breath and turned away, voice low. “When the eclipse comes, this bond will choose. Whether you want it to or not.”

He left before either of us could speak.

Damon turned to me, his eyes softening, all Alpha-command fading into quiet worry. “He’s losing control, Selene. And if the darkness inside him grows with the bond—”

“Then I’ll lose both of you,” I whispered.

The red moonlight spilled through the window, washing over us. For a moment, neither of us moved — just two souls caught in the shadow of a fate neither could escape.

And somewhere outside, beyond the trees, the first howl of the eclipse night began.