HIS RUIN, HIS QUEEN

THE QUEENS BAPTISM

Chapter Eight:

Blood.

It was everywhere.

Splattered across the white marble floor, staining the golden feast table, soaking into the elegant silk of Selene’s dress.

And at the center of it all—Lilith.

Her frail body stood between the fallen guards, her hands coated in red, her face eerily calm.

Selene had barely moved when the first scream shattered the air.

Chaos erupted. Warriors lunged. Omegas scattered.

But Lilith didn’t flinch.

She only had eyes for Selene.

“You took everything from me,” she murmured, stepping forward.

Darius moved faster than lightning, shoving Selene behind him as he blocked Lilith’s path. His golden eyes burned with pure rage.

“You should have died quietly,” he growled.

Lilith smiled.

It was a slow, empty thing.

Then she lifted her blade and lunged.

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Selene barely had time to think.

One moment, Lilith’s knife was soaring through the air—aimed straight for Darius’s throat.

The next—Selene moved.

She didn’t know why.

Didn’t know if it was instinct, the mate bond, or something darker inside her that couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

All she knew was one thing:

No one would touch what was hers.

The dagger sliced across her arm instead, sending a searing pain through her skin.

Selene gasped, stumbling back, clutching the wound.

Darius’s roar shook the entire hall.

And then—he was on Lilith.

He moved so fast it was a blur—his claws tearing into her, ripping her apart like an animal.

Lilith hit the floor, choking on her own blood, her once-beautiful face twisted in agony.

But even then—even as her body failed her, as her life slipped away—she smiled.

She laughed.

Selene’s breath hitched.

Because Lilith wasn’t afraid.

She was satisfied.

Her bloody lips parted. “It’s not over.”

Then—she died.

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The Aftermath

Silence.

Thick, suffocating.

Selene stood frozen, blood dripping down her arm, her pulse still racing.

Darius turned to her slowly.

His golden eyes were unreadable, but his hands were still trembling—from rage, from bloodlust, from something deeper.

Selene should be afraid.

She should feel disgusted. Horrified.

But all she could think about was how close he had come to dying.

Her heart pounded.

Darius took a step forward.

She didn’t move.

Another step.

Then he was in front of her, his fingers gripping her chin—not gently. Never gently.

His voice was low. Dangerous. Shaking with something raw.

“You protected me.”

Selene swallowed hard. She had.

Darius exhaled, his forehead pressing against hers. His grip tightened. “You’re mine, Selene.”** “Say it.”**

Selene’s bloodstained fingers curled into his shirt.

And for the first time, she didn’t hesitate.

“…I’m yours.”

Darius’s breath shuddered.

Then—he kissed her.

But this wasn’t like before.

This wasn’t seduction. It was ruin.

It was the moment Selene fell completely.

The moment she knew—there was no escaping him now.

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