The queen of shadows and flames

The nightmare always began the same way. With silence. Too quiet. Too still. Islyn stood in the middle of a house she hadn’t lived in for years… yet knew too well. The walls felt closer than they should. The air heavier. Like the past itself was breathing down her neck. And then— It shifted. She wasn’t eighteen anymore. She was ten. Small. Barefoot. Afraid. Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the hallway wall as she peeked toward the front door, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it would give her away. The door creaked open. Heavy footsteps followed. Her father. She never saw his face clearly anymore. Only pieces. A shadow. A presence. Something that once felt like safety. “Vespera.” His voice echoed through the house, low and controlled. But even then— Even at ten— Islyn knew something was wrong. The shadows in the corners shifted. Just slightly. Just enough. Fear curled in her stomach. She should go to him. She always did. She always ran to him. But tonight… Her feet refused to move. Something deep inside her whispered— Don’t. So she stayed hidden. Watching. Vespera stood near the window, bathed in moonlight like she belonged to it. Beautiful. Untouchable. Cold. “You’re home early,” she said softly. The voice didn’t sound like her mother. Not the one Islyn knew. “I finished what I needed to,” her father replied. A pause. Sharp. Cutting. “What were you doing?” The air changed. “And what exactly are you accusing me of?” Vespera asked, turning slowly. Too slowly. Too calmly. “I’ve been hearing things.” He stepped closer. And with every step— The shadows stretched. “…Seeing things.” Islyn pressed herself harder against the wall, her breathing shallow, uneven. “Who was here?” Silence. The kind that made her chest hurt. Her mother smiled. And something inside Islyn cracked. “That,” Vespera said softly, “was your first mistake.” The words echoed unnaturally, louder than they should have been. As if the house itself remembered them. “You’re hiding something,” her father said. His voice had changed now. Lower. Sharper. “Something that isn’t wolf.” The air snapped. In the nightmare— This was where everything broke. The shadows didn’t just move anymore. They watched. Islyn could feel them. Feel them noticing her. Her throat tightened. She tried to breathe— Tried to speak— Nothing came out. “What are you?” The question hung in the air. Heavy. Final. Silence answered first. Then— A whisper. Not from her father. Not from her mother. From the shadows. “Watch.” Terror flooded her small body. “No…” she tried to say. But her voice didn’t exist. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t run. Couldn’t close her eyes. She was forced to see. Her mother stepped closer. Calm. Unbothered. “You ask dangerous questions.” Her father grabbed her wrist. Tight. Desperate. Hope flickered. He would win. He always did. Right? The nightmare twisted. Vespera leaned in, whispering something Islyn never fully heard— Only felt. Cold. Final. And then— The shadows surged. Not outward. Inward. Swallowing the room. Swallowing the light. Swallowing him. Islyn screamed— But no sound came out. No one ever heard her. The last thing she saw— Every time— Her father reaching. Not for Vespera. For her. And then— Darkness. Present Islyn gasped awake. Her body jerked upright, breath ragged, chest rising and falling too fast to keep up. Sweat clung to her skin. Cold. Unforgiving. Her hand flew to her chest, as if she could steady the chaos inside it. But it didn’t help. It never did. “Eight years…” she whispered hoarsely. Eight years of the same nightmare. The same silence. The same ending. Her gaze drifted slowly to the corner of her room. The shadows lingered there. Still. Quiet. Watching. Her breath caught. Because no matter how many times she told herself it wasn’t real— She knew the truth. “That wasn’t just a dream…” It never had been. Her fingers curled tightly into the sheets. She had seen it. All of it. And she had said nothing. Not to the pack. Not to anyone. Not even to him. Her mate. The thought sent a strange tension through her chest. Different from fear. Different from pain. Something pulling. The bond. Islyn swallowed hard, forcing herself to move despite the lingering weight of the nightmare pressing against her ribs. Tonight was supposed to change everything. Tonight— She would finally go to Theron. Her hand slowly drifted to her stomach. A subconscious motion. Protective. Unaware. A faint, almost imperceptible warmth answered beneath her palm. But she didn’t notice. Not yet. Her expression hardened slightly as she pushed herself out of bed. Whatever fear she carried… Whatever past haunted her… None of it mattered anymore. Because tonight— She would stop being invisible. And finally face the one person the Moon Goddess had chosen for her. Her mate. And far away— unseen, unknown— something ancient stirred. Watching. Waiting. Drakaris.