Throne of Claw and Moon

Chapter 6

Selene

Every new semester, Althesan College pretended to be fun.

They let us throw this big bonfire party out at the Quarry—a creepy open field at the edge of the school grounds, surrounded by thick trees that looked like they crawled closer the darker it got. The place reeked of smoke, bad decisions, and Daddy's money.

Plastic red cups littered the grass like confetti after a parade. Somewhere behind me, a couple was practically devouring each other's faces, and "I Remember" by Fred again.. & Skrillex blasted from someone's Bluetooth speaker which was fighting for its life against the roaring fire. Typical Althesan crowd—spoiled, drunk, self-obsessed, and genetically incapable of embarrassment.

I rolled my eyes as a pack of girls beside me burst into giggles. Matt Shay—third year, maybe fourth, who cares—was shirtless, dancing weirdly, yelling something to his equally drunk friend. My drink was flat, my boots were sinking into the mud, and I already regretted coming.

“Whoa, you look so f*****g hot tonight," a familiar voice slurred next to my ear.

The smell of vodka and expensive cologne hit me before I even turned. Josh was one of Mark's closest friends—and, once upon a time, someone I could almost stand. That was before he became a walking reminder of everything I hated.

I kept my eyes on the fire. "Is that your best line tonight, or am I just lucky?"

He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "You haven't spoken to me in two years, Selene. Aren't you over it by now?"

"Over what?" I asked, feigning innocence as I finally looked up at him.

His jaw tightened, he looked away and took a sip of whatever was in the silver flask in his hand. "Don't act like you don't know."

"Oh, you mean when you spread rumors back in sixth form that I was obsessed with you, couldn't stop blowing up your phone after we kissed at one party?" I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. "That?"

He took another sip from his flask, eyes darting away again.

Classic.

Guys like Josh fed off attention, and when you took it away, they didn't know what to do with themselves.

"That was a long time ago," he muttered. "I… I was stupid."

"I know, but it still doesn't justify what you did," I cut in before he could try another sentimental line.

"I'm sorry, okay? If you're still angry—"

"I'm not." And I meant it. I'd nearly forgotten about it. It was just… seeing him brought the whole stupid memory flooding back. Not that I needed reminding. People had done worse to me, and they would probably keep trying.

The silence that followed was thick. He looked uncomfortable. I enjoyed it. I didn't owe him any words. Let the silence guilt-trip him. Let it suffocate him.

"I really like you," he blurted out suddenly.

I scoffed. This was so unbelievable.

"Okay, fine. I really liked you then."

"Sure, lad," I said dismissively and took a lazy sip of my own drink.

A couple of feet away from us, someone shouted, and suddenly a fight broke out, two guys swinging wildly, cheered on by the bored and drunk elite. One of them landed a punch; the other stumbled to the ground, and everyone hollered like it was the height of entertainment. It wasn't serious, just another bit of background noise.

"Selene," Josh murmured. I pretended not to hear him. I just wanted him to take the hint and leave me the hell alone.

"Selene." His hand caught my elbow, spinning me to face him. His expression had shifted, no smugness, just raw tension.

"Listen, I know you're mad at me, but you need to leave."

I blinked. "Leave? You drunk already?"

He shook his head, his face dead serious. "Look, I can't really say because I'm not a snitch," he said, looking around nervously. "But something really bad is going to happen tonight."

"And that's my business because?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"I'm not f*****g joking, Selene," he murmured, his face stoic and his eyes empty. His eyes—those weird, empty eyes that somehow drew me to him once—looked even hollower now. That was what made me like him back then, I think. His quiet. His damage. He'd just moved here from an American boarding school. His dad was British, his mom was American; they had a messy divorce, and he ended up here in London with his dad while his three sisters stayed in the States with their mom. He was the first guy I'd liked after my nasty breakup with that Swedish piece of s**t. Call me a psychopath, but what I liked most about him was how empty his eyes were. He barely spoke to anyone. Until Mark had his claws in him.

"Are you listening to what I'm telling you?" Josh shook me, bringing me back to reality.

"I am," I said, though mostly I was trying to read what was behind those eyes. Fear? Guilt?

"Look around. Everyone here either hates you, envies you, is jealous of you, or just doesn't give a s**t about you."

A smile almost sneaked onto my lips, but I clamped it down. "And you're telling me this because...?"

"Because—"

"Heeeyyyy!" Chloe's annoying voice sliced through the air as she hooked her arm through mine. Josh tensed and looked away. Chloe narrowed her eyes at him. "Everything okay here?"

"Yeah," I said, giving her a tight lipped smile.

Josh took that as his cue to disappear into the crowd.

Great.

Chloe peered into my empty cup and sighed dramatically. "Ugh, we need to get you more booze. C'mon, Selene, live a little!"

My eye twitched. Live a little? The phrase was a match to the gasoline of my fury. I wanted to scream, to shove her, to yell that I was living, I was trying to live through the static in my head and the cage of my life, and every time someone told me to "live a little" it felt like another lock clicking shut.

"I've really got to pee," Chloe announced with a pout, cutting through my internal rant. "Come with me? It's dark. And when we get back, I promise we'll find you a proper drink. Okay?"

It was a pathetic excuse, but the urge to get away from the crowd was strong. "Fine," I bit out. "But make it quick."

She led me away from the fire's glow, the laughter and music fading into a muffled thump behind us, replaced by the unnervingly loud crunch of our feet on dry leaves. The woods were pitch black, the kind of dark that felt heavy and watchful.

We'd only gone about twenty yards when the shadows in front of us shifted. Not just one, but three.

Mark stood there, but he wasn't alone. Two other guys, massive and built like they did nothing but lift other, smaller guys for fun, flanked him. I’d never seen them before, but their Athelstan aura—that specific blend of privilege and cruelty—and the cocky, vacant smiles on their faces were unmistakable. Final years. Great.

Chloe stiffened. “Who’s—” But she didn’t finish. She let out a sharp, theatrical squeal, turned on her heel, and ran. Her footsteps crashed through the undergrowth back toward the party. She didn't look back. The betrayal was so swift and complete it was almost impressive.

I took a step back, my heart trying to hammer its way out of my chest. "What’s all this, Mark?" I asked, layering my voice with a bored indifference I was miles from feeling. "Couldn't find anyone your own size to pick on?"

“Just a special surprise for you,” he replied, his smile a cruel, twisted thing. My stomach did a nauseating flip-flop, and my palms went slick with sweat. A cold, paralyzing fear was icing through my veins, but I shoved it down, down, down, locking it away.

“I didn’t know you threw tantrums now. That’s cute.” I said, pouring every ounce of condescension I had into the words. “We both know you’re all talk and no bite.”

One of the strangers, a brute with a shaved head, chuckled. It was a low, ugly sound. "I like it when they have a smart mouth." His eyes crawled over me, slow and possessive. "You're just a rich brat with really nice tits." He practically purred the words, and it made my skin want to crawl right off my body.

I flicked my eyes around, desperately looking for an escape route, my mind racing and coming up with absolutely nothing. I was so screwed.

Mark stepped forward, his vicious smile widening. "C'mon, Barbie. Get ready to show me your million-dollar virgin pussy."

My heart didn't just stop; it plummeted straight into my frozen feet. Virgin. That word, my private business, thrown out like a piece of trash in front of these animals, felt like a violation worse than any shove.

"Virgin?" the other guy, all sharp angles and hungry eyes, said with a savage grin.

The first brute laughed. "How are you so sure, mate?"

"Oh, c'mon," Mark sneered, his gaze pinning me where I stood. "If you f****d this virgin p***y, would you shut up about it?"

The angular guy pretended to think for a second before shaking his head. "Nuh uh. I'd tell everyone."

"And besides," Mark added, delivering the final, soul-crushing blow, "her last boyfriend, Lukas, confirmed she was a virgin before she dumped him. Guess he wasn't good enough for the princess."

That Swedish piece of shut.

I almost laughed because my taste in men is really funny.

But a scream gathered in my throat instead, sharp and desperate, but it got stuck, choked by a shock so complete it turned my limbs to stone. They disgust me. God forbid a woman thinks no man has earned her. And yeah, I'd never been aroused by anyone; I'd started to think I was broken, sue me. But to have my most private self dissected like this, turned into a trophy for these monsters…

“You won’t touch me,” I said, and I f*****g hated the way my voice came out, weak and pathetic like some damsel in distress. “…My parents will swipe your entire generation off this earth.”

Really, Selene? my brain screamed at me. That’s the best you’ve got? Your parents? I immediately started regretting dropping out of that taekwondo class Brenda registered me for in elementary school all because I’d face-planted into a plank and other kids laughed at me on my first day. Stupid, vain, i***t.

“And what makes you think that?” Mark laughed, a hollow, ugly sound. “These guys have nothing to lose. You’d be lucky if I let you leave here alive.”

The three of them took a synchronized step forward, closing the trap. The world narrowed to their leering faces. The static in my head was a screaming siren.

But a different, fiercer noise was rising beneath the panic.

I am not going down without a fight.

Abso-f*****g-lutely not.

One of the fuckers lunged to grab me. I balled my fists, my nails digging into my palms, ready to swing and knock every last one of his teeth down his throat.

Something huge stepped out from between the trees.

Amber eyes caught the faint moonlight. A wolf—no, not a wolf. Too large, too deliberate. Its fur was dark brown, its muscles rippling beneath the sheen of rain-damp fur. Power bled off it in waves; this was not an ordinary creature.

It didn’t hesitate.

The beast sprang at Mark before a single word could leave my mouth. His scream was cut short by the weight of its attack, the sound of impact echoing through the clearing like thunder. The other two men stumbled back, cursing, scrambling for escape. Leaves exploded around them as the wolf’s growl rolled, low and deadly.

I didn’t move. For a heartbeat, time fractured—the bonfire, the woods, the boys, the blood—and I was locked inside a nightmare I couldn’t explain.

But the wolf turned toward me.

Its eyes met mine—intelligent, impossibly human—and something inside my chest twisted. Terror should have rooted me, but beneath it, a strange recognition flickered, like déjà vu.

Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the creature vanished into the trees.

Silence. Only my heartbeat remained.