The Dragon King’s Bride

Chapter 7 - Lady Selene's Agenda

"You've always had a knack for letting others take what's rightfully yours," Lady Selene murmured, her voice as soft as silk and as cutting as a knife. Her exquisite blue robe caught the moonlight as she stood on the balcony, staring down at the expansive gardens of Silverfang Manor.

Lord Malric, an ancient werewolf clan member known for his cunning, swirled his red wine glass across from her. "And you have always had a taste for drama, Selene," he murmured, a wicked smile twisting his lips. However, losing Kael Drakos to the Moon Weaver is a disappointment. Perhaps even enough to soften your frigid grip.

Selene's expression remained calm, but her fingers tightened around the ornate railing. Kael, to me, is not lost. Not quite yet. And I have no intention of sitting there while a sanctimonious Moon Weaver steals what I've created.

The hedges and flowerbeds in the gardens below were neatly kept. Nonetheless, Selene paid little attention to them. The previous week's events—the council's decision, the forced union, and Kael's apparent distance—occupied her mind. Even though he hadn't been hers in years, his interaction with Elara cut like a knife in her chest. Not because she loved him but because he belonged to her by birthright. Alternatively, he should have been.

Malric swallowed his wine, his amber eyes bright with curiosity. And, please tell me how you plan to end this marriage. The council agrees that the prophecy is accurate, and Kael—well, let's just say he isn't the rebellious kind."

Selene turned to face him straight, her gaze hard and accurate. Kael may submit to the council, but Elara is an outsider. She is lonely, unproven, and vulnerable. It's not difficult to remind the council of this truth.

Do you think they will turn on her? Malric raised an eyebrow and inquired. "The Moon Weaver is almost entirely a flesh-based story. Everything hinges on her survival at the shelter.

Selene pulled her lips into a tiny smile. She is still human, whether legendary or otherwise. And people are easily manipulated.

As the evening became darker, Selene retired from the balcony to her private study, where the frigid glare of magical lamps formed long shadows over the walls. Though relics and artifacts from her sorcerer days littered the room, her attention was pulled to a single item: a silver locket on her desk.

She gently opened it, showing a miniature portrait of Kael created when they were children. Then, he was different: free of obligation and prophecy. Their families were united by ambition and tradition, and they grew up together. She had been assured that they would rule together, with her magic enhancing his might. However, everything changed after the prophecy was fulfilled.

Selene's jaw tightened as she clicked the locket shut. The council had withdrawn their engagement without reluctance, given no explanation other than the prophecy. She'd officially accepted it, but bitterness had grown under the surface.

She said to herself in a low but firm voice, "Kael may not be mine anymore." However, enabling the Moon Weaver to succeed me will seal my doom.

Selene walked across the room, her pointed heels clicking on the stone floor, until she reached a closed cabinet at the far end. With a flick of her wrist, the Enchantments that held it together vanished, revealing rows of vials, scrolls, and magical treasures behind the doors. With her mind racing, she explored the racks.

Elara's connection to the sanctum was strong, as was her performance as the Moon Weaver. If Selene questions Elara's role as Kael's companion, she risks undermining her authority and calling her fitness into question. If the council starts to distrust the Moon Weaver...

Selene pulled a scroll from the cupboard and discovered ancient symbols on its surface. Years of researching banned magic had given her the knowledge that the council lacked. She could manipulate the magic of the sanctum by casting the correct spell, generating instability and pointing to Elara's neglect.

"It's dangerous," Malric abruptly interrupted her as he entered the room. "Changing the magic of the sanctum could backfire spectacularly."

Selene looked away from the scroll, not up. "The sanctum isn't relatively stable yet. For me, a few more cracks won't matter.

"And to Elara??" Malric inquired, his tone somewhat amused.

Selene wrinkled and carefully rolled the scroll. For her, the outcome will be devastating.

Malric leaned against the doorframe and spun the remaining wine. "You know, the Moon Weaver's failure may help more than just you. Many tribes are unsatisfied with the council's decisions. They may be willing to help you in your endeavors.

Selene avoided him with caution. What do they expect in return?

"Leverage," Malric said bluntly. The clans have no desire for conflict, nor do the dragon shifters wish to consolidate their power. If the Moon Weaver stumbles, our power balance increases.

Selene considered this as she was thinking quickly. She did not trust Malric or anybody else, but his plan seemed appealing. With the appropriate backers, her plan may be realized without revealing her involvement.

"Fine," she said at last. But understand this, Malric: crossing me will make you regret it.

Malric laughed, raising his empty glass in a toast. Noted. Hopefully, we will never have to test that hypothesis.

Selene worked tirelessly in her studies as night fell, crafting the spell to break the enchantment in the sanctum. She recited the spell under her breath while the open scroll sat on her desk, the runes barely visible. In the quiet chamber, the air surrounding her thickened and became charged with dark energy that barely crackled.

Finally, the charm was locked in. She felt a little tremble beneath her feet and began to grin wickedly. The sanctum's enchantment had been detected, just enough to threaten its stability. If everything goes as planned, the impacts will be minor at first, but they will grow more noticeable as the sanctuary's wards fail.

However, as Selene closed the scroll, a shadow moved to the side of the chamber, extinguishing the sparkling runes. She halted, her strength burning naturally as molten gold eyes glittered in the darkness.

The harbinger moved ahead, its weight hefty. "You play a dangerous game, Lady Selene," it said in a low, resonant voice. "Your actions will tip the balance, which is fragile. Prepare for the costs.

Before Selene could react, the harbinger left her alone in the darkened room. The weight of its warning persisted, yet her will did not change. She refused to let the prophecy determine her life and future.