Chapter Four
1370 Words
Selene
The chamber erupted.
Elders’ voices overlapped in a frenzy — some shouting denial, others confirmation, all of them feeding on panic like wolves scenting blood.
I stood frozen, breath shallow, throat still burning where Fenrir’s mark glowed faintly. My whisper still hung in the air like a curse: *Fenrir.*
Dorian’s hand slipped from mine. He staggered back a step, eyes wide, his face hollow.
“They knew,” he rasped. “You… you knew.”
Elder Jorah banged his fist on the table. “Enough. Sit down, Alpha.”
Dorian’s laugh was low, bitter. “Alpha? You call me Alpha while hiding *this* from me?” His voice cracked with rage. “How long have you known?”
Maren pushed forward, fire in her eyes. “That’s the right question. What have you been hiding from us?”
“Silence,” Elder Neris snapped.
“No!” I burst out, trembling. “No more silence! You knew there was something inside him. You knew — and you said nothing. Why?”
The elders’ stares were knives. The chamber, usually a place of order and tradition, felt like a cage closing in.
Behind me, Dorian’s voice was fraying. “What am I, then? A vessel? A curse in human skin? Answer me!”
In my skull, Fenrir’s whisper slid like poison.
**“Yes, little Luna. Make them speak. Let him see the betrayal. Then he’ll have no one left but me.”**
---
Dorian
My chest was a furnace.
The rage, the shame, the… *presence* clawing beneath my skin. Every heartbeat pounded like a drum summoning it closer.
They’d known. My elders, my council, my blood. They’d bowed to me, crowned me Alpha — and all the while, they’d watched me rot from the inside.
“Dorian—” Selene’s hand brushed mine, grounding for one second.
But Fenrir’s voice slithered, louder now.
**“Look at them. Liars. Cowards. They would burn you the moment you falter. But I… I will never leave you.”**
I slammed my palms onto the table, the wood splintering beneath my strength. “Tell me everything. Now!”
Gasps echoed. Guards shifted uneasily.
Jorah’s gaze, sharp as steel, held mine. “It is not fit for open discussion.”
“Open?” I snarled. “Half the damn pack already whispers of it. Say it! To me, to my Luna. What am I?”
My claws itched, threatening to break through. Heat roared in my veins.
Selene’s trembling voice cut through. “Dorian, please—”
“Don’t *please* me,” I choked. My fists shook. “I deserve the truth!”
**“And when they speak it,”** Fenrir purred, **“you will see why I am all you need.”**
---
Selene
I could see it happening — the flicker in his eyes, the storm rising inside him.
Fenrir was close. Too close.
I grabbed his arm, desperate. “Dorian, breathe. Look at me. Just me.”
His gaze locked onto mine, gray and stormy, fighting against the black that bled at the edges. For a second, he looked like my mate again. For a second, he wasn’t a monster.
Then Elder Neris’s voice shattered it. “Very well. The curse is real. We bound it generations ago — but the seal has weakened. You, Alpha, are its vessel.”
The words detonated in the chamber.
Dorian staggered. His breath left him in a violent exhale, as if she’d punched through his ribs. “Vessel,” he whispered.
Fenrir’s laugh shook my skull.
**“There. Truth at last.”**
Maren’s fists clenched. “You *used* him. You made him Alpha knowing this!”
“Sacrifice is necessary,” Jorah said coldly. “Better a cursed Alpha than no Alpha at all.”
Selene’s heart cracked. I saw it in her face.
And Dorian—he broke.
---
Elder Jorah
The chamber reeked of fear. Not his — ours.
We had prayed this day would never come. That the curse would remain buried, dormant, silent beneath his skin.
But the girl had spoken its name. And names have power.
Fenrir stirred. I could feel it in the air, like thunder before lightning.
I had fought to bind him once, long ago, when he first clawed into existence. He had nearly destroyed us all then.
And now… he was awake again.
“Alpha,” I said firmly, forcing command into my tone. “You must control yourself. Remember who you are.”
He looked at me with hollow eyes. “Who I am?”
The black bled further across his gaze. His hands trembled, claws breaking through skin.
“You made me a lie.” His voice cracked. “You crowned a curse.”
I swallowed hard. Around me, other elders shifted, whispering prayers, already doubting.
The breaking point was here.
And if he fell — if Fenrir emerged — we would all die.
---
Selene
“No!”
I clutched his face, forcing his eyes on mine. “Dorian, listen to me. You are not him. You’re stronger. You’re mine.”
For a heartbeat, I thought I reached him. His breath slowed, shoulders trembling.
Then his lips parted — and the voice that came wasn’t his.
**“Mine?”** The chamber shook with the sound, deeper, darker, not human. His pupils blew wide, swallowing gray into endless black. “No, little Luna. You are mine.”
The elders screamed orders. Guards drew blades. Maren yanked me back, hissing, “He’s slipping!”
“Don’t touch him!” I fought her grip, wild. “He’s still in there—”
“Selene!” Maren’s eyes burned. “If Fenrir takes him, there won’t *be* a Dorian!”
My heart cracked. Tears blurred my vision. I could feel Fenrir pushing, clawing, pulling Dorian into shadow.
“Selene…” Dorian’s true voice wavered through the storm, soft, broken. “Help me. Please.”
Fenrir’s laugh drowned him.
**“You can’t save him without killing him.”**
And for the first time, I knew it was true.
---
Dorian
I was drowning.
Selene’s voice reached me like light underwater — faint, warm, so far away.
But the darkness… oh, it was vast. It wrapped around me, pulling me deeper.
**“Stop fighting me,”** Fenrir hissed. **“We are one. Together, we are infinite. Together, we will rule. Let me.”**
“No!” I clawed at the black, desperate, wild. “I won’t let you take her. I won’t let you take anything!”
His laughter split my skull.
**“You already have. She bleeds because of you. They fear you. And when you finally give in… they will bow.”**
My chest heaved. My claws raked the stone table, gouging deep marks. Guards shouted. Elders prayed.
And Selene—her scent, her touch—it anchored me. But it wasn’t enough. Not this time.
I felt myself slipping.
And I knew — if I fell, Fenrir would rise.
---
Selene
The council chamber descended into chaos.
Elders shouted spells and commands, warriors raised steel, Maren held me back with all her strength.
And Dorian — my mate — stood at the center, shaking, his eyes black pits, his body a battlefield between man and monster.
I screamed, raw and desperate. “Dorian, fight him! Don’t let go!”
His head snapped toward me. His voice was layered, two tones clashing. “Save me—” “Set me free—”
Fenrir was tearing through.
The guards advanced, blades gleaming. Jorah raised a hand, voice grim. “If he falls, we end him here!”
“No!” I shrieked, struggling against Maren’s grip. “You can’t!”
“Selene!” Maren hissed in my ear. “If you don’t, he’ll s*******r us all!”
Dorian’s scream split the air — and in the sound, I heard both agony and hunger.
He dropped to his knees, clawing at his own chest as if trying to rip Fenrir out.
And in that moment, I knew the truth:
To save him, I might have to kill him.
- Writer
