Mated To The Twin Alphas

11: The Lunar Archives

The journey to the ruins began under a bleeding sky.

Even the sun looked uneasy, sinking behind clouds like it didn’t want to see what came next.

We rode through the forest in silence — Damon ahead, his silver wolf eyes scanning every shadow, and Darius just behind me, restless, breathing unevenly as if something inside him was fighting to be free.

The ruins lay beyond the northern ridge, a place every pack in the region feared. Stories said the Moon Goddess herself had sealed away her failed creations there — wolves who had lost their souls trying to control her light.

Now, we were heading straight into that darkness.

As the trees thinned, I saw the first sign of it: black stone spires jutting from the earth like the bones of giants. The air shimmered faintly with silver mist, humming with energy that made my mark pulse in rhythm.

“This place…” I whispered, unable to finish.

Damon slowed his horse. “Feels alive.”

Darius dismounted first, his boots crunching against the gravel. “No. It feels like it’s waiting.”

He was right. Every step deeper into the ruins felt heavier, like the ground recognized us. Like it knew we didn’t belong.

We stopped before an archway carved with ancient runes, half-buried under moss and moonlight. Damon brushed the vines aside, revealing the inscription beneath:

“Only the bound shall enter; only the marked shall remember.”

He looked at me. “You’re the key.”

My pulse quickened. I raised my wrist, the mark glowing faintly as I touched the cold stone. The runes flared to life — bright, silver, and alive. The air rippled. The archway opened with a low, rumbling sigh, revealing a spiral staircase descending into lightless depths.

“Stay close,” Damon said, his voice tight.

The descent felt endless. With every step, whispers filled the air — not from ghosts, but from the walls themselves. Fragments of words I didn’t recognize, yet somehow understood.

“Moonborn… bound… sacrifice.”

When we reached the chamber below, the light changed. It wasn’t darkness we found, but silver fire. It glowed from a pool in the center of the room — liquid moonlight, swirling with shadows.

I stepped closer, drawn by a force I couldn’t resist. Reflections danced across the surface — not of us, but of something older. A woman with my face, crowned in light, flanked by two wolves. One of fire, one of shadow.

Darius tensed beside me. “What is that?”

“The past,” I whispered. “Or the future.”

Damon crouched near the edge of the pool, studying the glyphs carved into the stone. “It’s a prophecy chamber. It records bloodlines tied to the Moon’s power.” He traced one symbol carefully. “This one… it names her — Selene of the Silver Line.”

I turned to him. “That’s my name.”

He nodded grimly. “It was never just a name.”

The air shifted. The silver light rose from the pool, forming a figure — the same woman I’d seen in the reflection. Her voice echoed like wind through bells.

“You carry the Moon’s curse. The twin flame bound to night and day. One will love you into ruin. The other will destroy you to save you.”

The vision’s eyes — my eyes — locked on mine.

“When the eclipse comes, choose wisely… for the moon does not forgive.”

The light shattered, plunging the chamber into silence.

I stumbled back, heart racing. “What does that mean?”

Damon’s jaw tightened. “It means the prophecy isn’t about saving us.”

Darius’ hand clenched at his side. “It’s about which one of us she’ll have to kill.”

The mark on my wrist burned, and the pool’s reflection shifted again — now showing three shadows standing under a blood-red moon.

My voice trembled. “The eclipse.”

Damon nodded slowly. “It’s coming sooner than we thought.”