Chapter 1: The Scent of Prophecy
The forest never slept, not truly.
Even in the dead of night, when the fog slithered low along the damp earth and the moon pierced through the trees like a blade, Selene could feel the woods watching her. The wind whispered her secrets, and every snapped twig sounded like a prophecy unfolding.
She ran.
Not because she wanted to, but because she had no choice. The mark on her wrist was starting to glow faintly, responding to something ancient and vile. Her breath came out in ragged gasps as her bare feet pounded the muddy trail. She'd dropped her shoes an hour ago. There was no time for comfort. Only survival.
Behind her, the royal guard closed in. Not the king's soldiers. Worse.
Bloodhounds.
Vampires bred for tracking omegas like her. And now they'd caught her scent.
The cursed omega.
The one the Night King was foretold to claim.
Selene skidded down a slope, leaves brushing her arms like claws, and ducked into a hollow beneath a fallen tree. She pressed her hand to her chest to quiet her racing heart. Maybe if she could just hold still long enough, they'd pass.
But the curse would never let her hide.
A low growl rumbled to her left.
She turned her head slowly, and her gaze met crimson eyes glowing in the dark.
A vampire stood there, tall and lean, a snarl on his lips and bloodlust in his gaze. He stepped forward, his boots crunching softly on the moss. His mouth parted as he inhaled her scent.
"Found you," he said.
Selene scrambled backward.
"No," she whispered, calling on the last of her strength. Her omega aura snapped outward like a shield, desperate and wild, but the vampire only laughed.
"You think you're the first to try that?" he hissed. "You belong to him now."
The air shifted. Everything did.
Suddenly, the vampire froze. His eyes widened, and then—like a puppet cut from its strings—he collapsed to the ground. Dead.
Selene blinked, stunned.
And then she saw him.
A shadow rising from the fog, wrapped in a cloak of black and silver, a crown of antlers forged from bone and frost glinting on his head.
The Night King.
Valerian.
His eyes—silver rimmed with red—locked onto hers. He was tall, cruelly beautiful, and utterly still, like death before it moved.
Her omega instincts screamed.
Run.
But her feet stayed rooted.
He stepped closer.
"I've waited a long time for you," he said, his voice like winter. "And now... you'll never run again."
Selene trembled.
Because in that moment, she knew:
This wasn't just a prophecy.
It was the beginning of the end.