The wind howled across the bleak ridgeline as Selene moved through the frostbitten forest, her cloak heavy with snow and dried blood. The warning in the note echoed in her mind, louder than the throb of pain in her ribs or the biting cold numbing her fingers.
She had slipped from the vampire court under cover of chaos. Now, she ran not as a noble or a diplomat—but as a fugitive. Her only thought was Ronan. He had to know. Before it was too late.
Behind her, the whispers of hunters were growing fainter, but not gone. Simon would not let her vanish without a trace—he needed her fall to be public, poetic. She was no longer a liability to him; she was a message. And he intended for her to be delivered in pieces.
Selene reached a half-frozen stream, collapsed to her knees, and drank greedily. Her reflection stared back at her—pale, eyes dark-ringed, desperation hollowing her features. She barely recognized herself anymore. Not the girl raised in marble towers. Not the woman sworn to protect her people. Just a shadow clinging to love, to hope, to something worth saving.
She forced herself to her feet.
Meanwhile, in the heart of the Greyhart stronghold…
Ronan stood before the ancient stone hearth in the council hall, his jaw clenched. The murmurs of dissent rolled around him like thunderclouds ready to break.
"She's a spy!" barked Alpha Varos, an elder Alpha of the southern pack, slamming his hand down on the table. "You've doomed us with your sentiment, Ronan!"
"She's not the enemy," Ronan said through clenched teeth. "The real threat hides behind a crown of blood." The accusation drew a wave of growls and shouts from the others.
"You're speaking treason! You jeopardized the pact!"
"Silence!" Ronan's voice thundered through the chamber. "Selene saved my life. She warned me of the ambush. The vampires who attacked us acted on orders that came from within their court orders meant to start a war."
"She fled their court, not ours," Ronan growled, voice low but edged with fury. "If she were a spy, she'd have never left at all."
"She left because she was exposed!" another councilman snarled.
Riven stood off to the side, arms crossed. He'd said nothing since the meeting began, but his eyes hadn't left Ronan. When silence finally fell, he spoke.
"If she returns… what then?" Riven asked. "Do we hide her? Or use her?"
"She's not a tool," Ronan said. "She's—"
But he caught himself before saying too much.
"She's more than a vampire," he finished instead. "She's a bridge. And if we lose her now, everything we've bled to build will collapse."
Riven didn't respond. But something flickered in his gaze—doubt, yes, but also a quiet consideration. He hadn't forgiven Selene. But he hadn't condemned her either.
By the time Selene reached the edge of the werewolf border, her body was near collapse. Her boots were soaked, one arm wrapped tightly against a cracked rib, and her vision swam from exhaustion.
She didn't see the scout until it was too late.
A sharp growl echoed through the trees, and suddenly a form tackled her from the side, pinning her against the snow. She hissed in pain, baring her fangs out of instinct.
"Easy!" the voice snapped.
Riven.
He crouched above her, eyes narrowed, his grip firm. "You're either very brave or very stupid to come here alone."
"I didn't have a choice," Selene rasped. "Simon's going to burn everything down. Starting with me."
Riven stared at her for a long moment. Her words weren't dramatic—they were heavy with a truth he could almost feel. After another second, he released her and helped her up.
"I should leave you to bleed out," he muttered. But you've clearly got a death wish and Ronan would never let me hear the end of it."
"You better be worth all this trouble," he added under his breath.
He guided her through the woods, carefully. When they finally reached the camp's outskirts, he stopped short.
"You walk in there like this, it's over. They'll think he betrayed us."
"Then don't tell them I'm here."
"You want to hide under his bed?"
"No," Selene said. "I need to hide in plain sight—long enough to tell him what's coming."
Riven exhaled. "You're crazier than he is."
Still, he nodded.
"I'll get you in."
And just like that, Selene crossed the invisible line—leaving behind her court, her past, and everything she'd known.
Greyhart Stronghold lay nestled between jagged cliffs and frost-laced pines, its stone towers rising like broken fangs into the overcast sky. Once built for war, now it stood on the edge of peace—or ruin.
Selene moved beneath a heavy fur-lined hood, every step inside the stronghold drawing more eyes, more suspicion. She stayed close to Riven, who walked with his usual commanding silence but occasionally shot glances behind them, assessing every shadow.
"The council's watching Ronan," he muttered under his breath. "And they'll tear him apart if they find out you're here."
"I'm not here to cause more division," Selene whispered. "But the threat is real, Riven. Simon isn't just trying to remove me—he's using my fall as a trigger. If war starts, it won't end with just the courts."
Riven's expression didn't shift, but something in his step hesitated. He wasn't fully with her—but he wasn't dismissing her either. That was something.
They reached a narrow corridor near the old war rooms, long disused and lined with dusty stone busts of fallen Alphas. Riven opened a hidden panel in one of the alcoves, revealing a hollowed-out passage behind it.
"Stay here," he said. "I'll get him."
Selene stepped into the cold dark and waited. Her hands were trembling—not from the cold now but from the weight of what she was about to say. If Ronan didn't believe her, if he turned her away…
No. He wouldn't.
She clutched the note again, reading the words she had memorized a hundred times.
The sound of the panel sliding open made her spin.
Ronan stood there—fur cloak damp from the snow, hair tousled, jaw tight—but his eyes, when they locked with hers, melted all the walls she'd built around herself.
He strode forward, and before she could speak, he crushed her into his arms.
"Moonlight, you're bleeding," he murmured.
"I got your note," she said.
Ronan paused. "Note?"
Her heart stopped. "You… didn't send the warning?"
"No. I thought you were dead. I've been—"
They both froze.
Something was off.
If Ronan hadn't sent the note, then someone else was watching. Someone else wanted her alive.
And someone knew more than they were supposed to.
She pulled back. "Then we're not just being hunted, Ronan. We're being watched."
A low growl rumbled in his throat.
"I'll find out who."
Just then, distant howls echoed across the mountain—the signal of scouts. Urgent. Alert.
Riven burst into the hidden room. "They know," he said. "The council's heard rumor of a vampire on the border. They're organizing a trial."
"For me?" Selene asked.
"No," Riven said grimly. "For Ronan."
Selene stepped forward. "Then we don't wait for them to strike."
Ronan nodded. "We'll go to them first."
Together.