Six
1347 Words
Selene moved through the Packhouse with calculated ease, her thoughts still tangled in what she had overheard.
The council will be arriving soon. They expect an answer regarding Killian.
That changed everything.
If the council was involved, Killian’s presence wasn’t just an inconvenience to Damian—it was a threat to his rule. And if that was the case, then Killian wasn’t just here for revenge.
He was here to take something back.
But what?
Selene knew she had to find him before Damian made his next move. If she was going to align herself with Killian, she needed to know exactly what she was signing up for.
She turned toward the northern wing of the Packhouse, where the guest quarters were. If Killian was staying here, it was likely he had been given one of the larger rooms near the private training hall.
Her heart pounded as she walked, her nerves prickling. She wasn’t sure what she would find when she reached him.
But she knew one thing.
She couldn’t stop now.
The hall leading to the guest quarters was empty, but she could feel his presence before she even reached his door. It was a heavy, tangible thing, thick with dominance and something far darker.
Selene inhaled sharply, hesitating only for a moment before knocking.
Silence.
Then, after a beat, the door swung open.
Killian stood in the doorway, his golden eyes gleaming under the dim light. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the sight of him—bare-chested, muscles cut with raw strength—made her breath hitch.
A faint scar ran across his ribs, and another lined his left shoulder, faded but deep.
A warrior’s body.
A survivor’s body.
She forced her gaze upward, refusing to let herself be distracted.
Killian leaned against the frame, arms crossed, amusement flickering in his expression. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”
Selene rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I need answers.”
His smirk deepened. “That’s usually how it starts.”
She scowled. “Are you going to let me in or not?”
Killian studied her for a long moment before stepping aside. “By all means.”
She entered his room, the scent of cedar and something wilder filling her lungs. The space was sparsely furnished—just a large bed, a single dresser, and a set of weapons laid out on a table near the window.
Selene turned to face him as he shut the door.
“What does the council want with you?” she asked bluntly.
Killian’s smirk faded, replaced by something sharper. “You heard that, did you?”
She folded her arms. “They don’t like that you’re here.”
“They shouldn’t.”
Selene’s stomach tightened. “Then why are you?”
He moved closer, his steps slow, deliberate. “Because this pack doesn’t belong to Damian.”
Her breath hitched. “What are you saying?”
Killian’s golden eyes darkened. “That seat he’s sitting on? The one he took so easily after my father’s death?” He tilted his head, voice lowering to something almost dangerous. “It was never his to take.”
Selene’s pulse pounded.
“You think you should be Alpha?”
His smirk returned, but it was colder this time. “I know I should be.”
She took a slow step back, trying to process what he was saying.
Killian didn’t just want revenge.
He wanted the throne.
And if he was right—if Damian had stolen that title—then everything she thought she knew about her former mate’s rise to power was a lie.
“You knew,” she murmured, realization dawning. “You always knew your father’s death wasn’t an accident.”
Killian’s jaw tightened. “Lilith played her part well. But I don’t believe for a second that she was the one pulling the strings.”
Selene swallowed hard. “Then who was?”
His gaze burned into hers.
“I think you already know the answer to that.”
Her stomach churned, but she forced herself to stay still.
Because deep down, she did know.
Damian had always claimed to be a loyal Beta under Alpha Blackwood’s rule. A man who had stepped up when the pack needed him most.
But if Killian was right—if Damian had orchestrated everything from the beginning—then Selene had been mated to a traitor.
Her blood ran cold.
“What do you need me to do?” she whispered.
Killian watched her for a long moment, as if deciding just how much to trust her. Then he spoke, his voice quiet, lethal.
“Help me take back what’s mine.”
Selene’s breath caught.
Because despite everything, despite the danger, despite the war she knew was coming—
She wanted to say yes.
Selene’s pulse thundered in her ears, but she didn’t back down.
Killian’s words settled into her bones, heavy with the weight of inevitability.
“Help me take back what’s mine.”
It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a plea. It was a declaration.
And somehow, she knew that the moment she agreed, there would be no turning back.
She should have been afraid.
She was afraid.
But fear had never been a stranger to her—it had lived inside her for two years, suffocating her, whispering that she was nothing, that she would always be nothing.
Until now.
Selene forced herself to steady her breathing. “How?”
Killian’s gaze sharpened. “You’re not hesitating.”
It wasn’t a question, more like an observation. A test.
Selene lifted her chin. “I made my choice the moment Damian rejected me.”
Something flickered in Killian’s expression—approval, maybe, or something darker.
“Good,” he murmured. “Then listen carefully.”
He turned, moving toward the small table near the window. A rough map of the Packhouse and its surrounding territory was spread across it, markings carved into the parchment.
Selene stepped closer, her fingers ghosting over the inked outlines. “You’ve been planning this for a while.”
Killian didn’t look up. “Years.”
A chill ran down her spine.
She had spent two years enduring Damian’s rule.
Killian had spent two years preparing to end it.
He tapped a finger against a spot near the eastern side of the Packhouse. “The council is coming tonight. That gives us a narrow window to act.”
Selene frowned. “You think they’re here to challenge Damian?”
Killian’s smirk was grim. “They’re here to remind him who really controls this pack. They want to see if he’s still worth keeping in power.”
Her stomach twisted.
If the council believed Damian was losing control, they wouldn’t hesitate to replace him.
And Killian wanted to make sure he was the one they turned to.
Selene exhaled. “And where do I come in?”
Killian’s golden gaze flickered to her. “I need someone close to him. Someone he still underestimates.”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “You think he underestimates me?”
Killian smirked. “He thinks you’re broken, Selene. That’s his mistake.”
Her hands clenched at her sides.
Damian did think she was broken.
Maybe she had been.
But not anymore.
Not after this.
She met Killian’s gaze. “What do you need me to do?”
He leaned in slightly, the air between them humming with something charged, something that made her wolf stir.
“When the council arrives, you stay by Damian’s side. You listen. You watch. And when the time comes—” His voice lowered, turning to a whisper. “You make them doubt him.”
Selene swallowed hard.
That was the first step.
Not open war.
Not outright betrayal.
But something far more dangerous.
A seed of doubt.
She could do that.
She would do that.
For the first time in years, she had a purpose again.
For the first time in years, she wasn’t just surviving.
She was fighting back.
And Damian would never see it coming.
- Writer
