Selene couldn't sleep.
Even hours after her confrontation with Kael, her mind spun endlessly — replaying his nearness, his cold retreat, the storm that flickered behind his silver eyes like lightning trapped behind glass. There was a pull between them she couldn't explain, something ancient and dangerous and intimate. Something she didn't want but couldn't ignore.
And he felt it too. She had seen it in the way his gaze lingered. In the way his hand trembled when it touched her face. In the way he had almost kissed her… and then pulled away like she'd burned him.
What was he so afraid of?
The mansion was wrapped in silence, broken only by the faint howl of wind slipping through the tall windows. Pale moonlight spilled across her floor like spilled milk, and still she couldn't find rest. Her thoughts pressed against her skull like waves against stone — relentless and rising.
She paced, barefoot and tense, the hem of her nightdress brushing the floor. Something tugged at her chest — not fear, not even quite curiosity. Unease. Like a whisper in the dark, soft and persistent. A truth clawing to be found.
If Kael wouldn't give her answers, maybe someone else would.
She left her room without a sound, moving like a ghost through the sleeping corridors. The eastern wing stretched ahead, older and colder than the rest of the house. This part was largely avoided — abandoned, some whispered. But Selene had been here once before. She remembered the dark corridor. The way it curved sharply. The way something inside her stomach had knotted when she passed the last door at the end of the hall.
That door was ajar now, just a sliver.
She pushed it open and stepped inside.
Dust floated in the still air, dancing in the thin shafts of moonlight that cut across the room. It wasn't a library, not really — it was more of a private study, hidden and forgotten. Shelves lined the walls, packed with books so ancient their spines had faded to leather and shadow. A large desk sat in the center, covered in parchment, quills, and scrolls. But it was the open book that drew her closer.
She crossed the room slowly, her breath shallow. Someone had been here recently — she could smell the faint trace of ink, of skin, of pine smoke. And that same faint signature of Kael's scent that haunted her dreams.
The page was covered in symbols she didn't understand. Some were translated.
She leaned in.
"A wolf cursed by betrayal shall bleed beneath the moon. Only through union with the fated one shall death be defied"
Her breath caught.
Another line sat below it, written in a darker ink, as if added later.
"To reject the bond is to invite decay — the beast will weaken, the heart will fall"
"Selene."
The voice behind her snapped her spine straight. She turned sharply, pulse rocketing, to find Marcus standing in the doorway.
His expression was unreadable. But his eyes weren't cold — only tired.
"I—" she began, but faltered. "I was just…"
Marcus stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. The soft thud echoed in the silence like judgment.
"You weren't supposed to see that," he said quietly.
Selene turned back to the book. "But it's true, isn't it?"
Marcus hesitated.
"It's about him," she added. "Kael."
His jaw tensed. "It's more than that. It's prophecy."
The word sent a chill down her spine.
She moved away from the desk and sank slowly into the armchair in the corner. "So it's true," she said. "He's cursed."
"Yes."
Marcus walked over, pulling out a chair for himself. He didn't sit, not right away. Just stood there, as if deciding how much to say.
"Years ago," he began slowly, "Kael was mated to someone. Loved her. She was powerful — not from any known pack, a rogue born with old blood, the kind that predates even our elders. They were bonded. But his ambitions… they scared her. He wanted too much, too fast. And when she tried to stop him, when she begged him to choose love over war, he… didn't."
Selene's chest tightened. "He betrayed her."
Marcus nodded. "And she cursed him with her dying breath. Said he would lead and conquer, but never heal. That every time he got close to someone — truly close — the bond would twist against him. Break him from the inside."
Selene swallowed the lump rising in her throat.
"She called it the Hollowing," Marcus said. "A curse of emptiness. Of living, but never whole. It makes him… less than wolf. Less than Alpha."
"But the prophecy," she said softly, glancing again at the book. "It says union with the fated one can defy death."
"Yes," Marcus confirmed. "But only if it's accepted. Only if the bond is embraced willingly. That's the catch. If it's denied…"
He trailed off.
Selene stared down at her hands. They were trembling.
"He's pushing me away," she whispered.
"Because he thinks loving me will destroy me."
Marcus finally sat down. His voice was gentler now. "Because it already destroyed someone else."
A beat passed.
"He thinks he doesn't deserve another chance. And the longer he resists the bond, the more it kills him."
Selene's breath caught. "His wound from the rogue attack… it's not healing."
"No," Marcus said grimly. "It's festered. His wolf should have handled it hours ago. But the bond is fractured. The curse is feeding on it."
She blinked rapidly, willing away the sting behind her eyes. "Because of me."
"Because he hasn't accepted you," Marcus corrected. "The curse punishes rejection. And the longer he denies you, the more it destroys him."
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Then why not just… accept it?"
"Because he's terrified. Of hurting you. Of what it means to let someone in again."
They sat in silence.
Then she asked the question that had begun to curl into her very bones.
"What happens to me?"
Marcus hesitated.
"If the bond is denied too long… it starts to hurt you too. Your fates are linked now. If one falls, the other follows."
Selene's breath left her in a rush. "So we're both dying."
"Not yet," he said. "But time is running out."
She stood, her body suddenly too full of energy, of fire and frustration and aching sadness. She stared at the book again — the ancient ink, the cruel truth etched into words that had outlived generations.
A love that could save them.
A curse that would kill them.
He was running from her. And she… she didn't know if she was strong enough to stop him.
That night, Selene lay in bed with the candle burning low beside her. The shadows danced across the ceiling like ghosts. She should have felt rage. Bitterness.
But all she felt was sorrow.
Sorrow for a man who could shatter enemies with his hands and still flinch from the gentlest touch.
Sorrow for herself — a girl torn from her family and thrown into a fate she never asked for.
But more than that… she felt a thread.
Warm. Glowing.
The bond.
Still alive. Still waiting.
Not just a shackle — a chance.
A voice whispered in her blood.
You are not here by accident.
She would make him see her.
Even if it killed her.
Across the mansion, Kael stood alone in his chamber, staring out at the cold sweep of trees. Pain pulsed behind his ribs — not just the wound, but the weight of her.
He could still feel her. Her scent. Her hands.
She had seen the worst of him and stayed.
And that terrified him more than the curse ever had.
Because if he let her in… if he let her love him…
He didn't know if he would ever be able to let her go.
And if the curse claimed her too?
Then there would be no forgiveness. Not even in death.