Episode Three: Whispers Beneath the Moon
1187 Words
Selene lingered at the edge of the forest, heart thudding as her breath formed mist in the early morning air. Dawn was just beginning to warm the sky, brushing the clouds with soft lavender and pink, but her thoughts were anything but soft.
She’d been walking for hours, unable to sleep after the dream. The fire. The chains. Darius’s blood-soaked crown. It hadn’t felt like a nightmare. It had felt like a warning.
And she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Her wolf paced inside her, restless, whispering truths her mind wasn’t ready to accept.
He’s dangerous.
But not to you.
Killian.
The mate bond still tugged at her like a tether, invisible but undeniable. Every time she tried to distance herself from it, her wolf pulled her back. The bond hadn’t faded since the Blood Moon Ceremony—it had only intensified.
Selene pressed her fingers to her temple, trying to push down the ache blooming behind her eyes.
She didn’t know what frightened her more: that Killian might be lying… or that he might be telling the truth.
Because if he was, then everything she believed about her pack—about Darius, about her destiny—was a lie.
She turned back toward the fortress, steeling herself.
She needed answers.
By midday, she found herself in the ancient archives beneath the main hall. It was a place rarely visited by anyone outside the council or elders, filled with dusty scrolls and forgotten truths. The room smelled of parchment, candlewax, and old secrets.
She pulled a long-forgotten record from the shelves—the ledger of exiles.
Killian’s name was there.
The entry was brief, almost too brief.
Killian Voss
Accused: Treason, conspiracy, murder of scout Ellis Hale.
Punishment: Exile under full moon decree.
Council vote: 5–0. No trial granted.
Witnesses: None confirmed. Evidence sealed.
Her stomach churned.
No witnesses. No trial. Sealed evidence.
Why?
Selene dug deeper, pulling scroll after scroll, her fingers smudged with ink and dust. Most of it was irrelevant—laws, treaties, histories of Alpha bloodlines—but then she found a faded map of the borderlands.
It had been marked… and erased.
Someone had once drawn secret trade routes—smuggler trails—and they passed directly through the Nightshade rogue territory.
Her breath caught.
Was Killian telling the truth? Was Darius really making deals with the enemy?
She barely heard the approaching footsteps behind her until the door creaked open.
“Should’ve known I’d find you here.”
Selene turned sharply.
It was Darius.
He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes dark. There was something unreadable in his face—something that chilled her.
“You’re digging into things better left buried,” he said.
“I’m looking for the truth.”
He stepped forward slowly. “The truth won’t save him.”
“I think it might damn you.”
Darius’s jaw clenched. “You’re letting the bond cloud your judgment.”
“Maybe,” Selene admitted, voice low. “Or maybe it’s finally clearing it.”
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was gentle, but it made her flinch.
“You were mine,” he murmured. “You always were.”
“I was never yours,” she whispered. “Not by the Moon. Not by my heart.”
His eyes turned sharp. “Reject him, Selene. Or you’ll regret it.”
She held his gaze. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m trying to protect you.” His voice cracked. “From making a mistake that could get you—and everyone you love—killed.”
She took a step back, spine straight. “Then stop hiding things. Tell me the truth about what happened to Killian.”
Darius stared at her for a long moment.
Then he turned and walked away without a word.
That night, Selene returned to the dungeon.
The guards gave her wary looks but didn’t stop her. They knew better now.
Killian was still chained, though they’d moved him to a cleaner cell—likely by Elder Morrigan’s quiet order. His bruises were healing fast, his wolf already working to mend what silver had scorched.
He looked up as she entered, expression unreadable.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come back,” he said softly.
She knelt in front of him, just outside the circle of his chains.
“I read the exile records.”
His brow lifted. “And?”
“They’re full of holes. No trial. No witnesses. Just… silence.”
Killian nodded. “That’s what guilt buys—the power to rewrite truth.”
Selene hesitated, then reached into her cloak. She unwrapped a small bundle of meat and bread and handed it to him.
He took it with a grunt of surprise. “Feeding the enemy?”
“I haven’t decided if you’re the enemy yet,” she murmured.
He ate slowly, and they sat in silence.
Finally, she spoke. “You said the bond didn’t pull you until the ceremony.”
“It didn’t.” He looked up at her. “Why?”
She hesitated, then whispered, “Because it pulled me days before.”
Killian stilled.
“I didn’t realize it at the time,” she continued. “Just thought I was losing control of my wolf. She was pacing, growling, unsettled. But now… I think she sensed you. Even before we met.”
Killian’s eyes softened. “She recognized me. Your wolf’s wiser than you know.”
Selene’s cheeks flushed.
“Do you feel it now?” he asked.
She nodded. “Every second.”
He leaned forward, chains creaking. “Then why are you fighting it?”
“Because if I accept it… I lose everything. My pack. My title. My family.”
“And if you reject it, you lose a part of yourself.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
She looked down. “I’m not ready to choose.”
“I’m not asking you to.” Killian’s voice was gentle. “But I’ll wait. However long it takes.”
Selene’s heart twisted.
How could he be so calm, so certain—while her whole world was falling apart?
And why did that certainty make her want to believe in him?
Later that night, as she left the dungeon, Elder Morrigan was waiting in the corridor.
“You’ve begun to see him,” the seer said quietly.
“I don’t know what I see,” Selene admitted. “Only what I feel.”
Morrigan nodded. “Then your path is beginning. But beware, child—truth has enemies.”
Selene’s throat tightened. “Darius?”
The elder didn’t answer. She simply whispered, “The wolves who fear change will fight to the death to keep the world as it is.”
Then she walked into the shadows and vanished.
Selene stood alone in her chambers, staring at the reflection in her mirror.
She no longer saw the perfect Luna the pack had raised.
She saw a girl torn in two. One foot in tradition. One foot in fire.
And the fire was winning.
- Writer
