The ballroom was no longer crowded, but the memory of whispers still lingered in the halls of Blackthorn Tower.
Selena stood by the grand window, her hands clasped behind her back, staring out into the estate gardens below. A cold breeze filtered through the glass. She didn't flinch. Her thoughts were colder.
"Elira," she murmured, almost to herself. "You really don't know when to stop."
Earlier that morning, Elira had been seen speaking privately with Damien at the Council Annex.
Selena hadn't interrupted them. She didn't need to.
She'd stood far enough to watch Elira's fluttering lashes, the way she angled her body just slightly toward Damien innocent to anyone else, but Selena recognized the signs. She'd once used them herself.
But what disturbed her most wasn't Elira's audacity.
It was Damien's reaction.
He hadn't looked annoyed.
He hadn't looked interested either.
He'd looked… curious.
Later that day, Damien sat in his private office, flipping through Council reports he couldn't focus on. Lucas leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching his Alpha with amused judgment.
"You're distracted," Lucas said.
Damien didn't look up. "I'm busy."
"Thinking about Selena again?"
"No."
"Liar."
Damien set the file down. "She's unpredictable."
"Or maybe you just don't like not having control."
Damien glanced up, eyes sharp. "She's hiding something."
Lucas shrugged. "Aren't we all?"
Damien leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "Elira came to see me this morning."
"Ah. The sweet sister. What did she want?"
"Guidance. Advice. Or at least that's what she said."
"And did you give it?"
Damien frowned. "I told her to speak to Selena."
Lucas smirked. "Trying to stay neutral, are we?"
"No," Damien said. "I'm trying not to fall into a trap."
Lucas's face sobered. "So you do think there's one?"
Damien's voice dropped. "She's too composed. Too calm. It's like she's playing a game only she knows the rules to."
Lucas chuckled. "Careful. Sounds like admiration."
Damien didn't answer.
Selena was not idle either.
That evening, she made her way to the lesser-known wing of the D'Archer estate the old library, mostly untouched. Dust clung to forgotten ledgers, and faded portraits stared down from the walls like silent witnesses.
She pulled a book from the third shelf. The Rise of the Moon-Blooded Clans and flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for: a name.
Lord Malrick Drayen.
In her previous life, he had been nothing more than a background figure rarely spoken of, never significant.
But the night before her downfall, she'd overheard her mother whisper his name with urgency and fear.
> "If Selena marries into the Blackthorns, Malrick will intervene"
She had never understood what that meant.
Until now.
A knock echoed against the old oak door.
Selena closed the book calmly. "Come in."
A tall man in a midnight suit stepped in silver cuffs, slick gray hair, a thin smile.
"You remember me," he said, voice smooth as smoke.
Selena turned slowly. "I do now."
Lord Malrick Drayen.
One of the most dangerous members of the Moonlight Council. Wealthy. Influential. And far too quiet for someone so powerful.
He walked toward her with measured ease.
"You've been watching me," Selena said, voice neutral.
"I watch everyone who touches the Alpha's name," he said. "But you… I've watched twice."
Selena narrowed her eyes. "What do you want?"
Malrick smiled, stepping close enough that the air around them changed.
"I want to see how far you'll go to rewrite the story," he said. "And I want to know if you'll let me help."
She raised an eyebrow. "Help me?"
Malrick's voice dipped. "There are two kinds of wolves in this world, Lady Selena. The ones who follow the Alpha... and the ones who train the Alpha."
Her pulse slowed. "And which are you?"
He leaned in, voice low. "I'm the one who breaks them."
For the first time in a long time, Selena's spine stiffened.
Malrick straightened, his smile returning. "Your fiancé doesn't trust you yet. Elira is still plotting. The Council doesn't know your power. And you"
He tapped her chest lightly.
"you haven't decided whether you're a victim or a villain."
Selena swallowed hard.
Malrick turned toward the door.
"I'll return soon," he said. "Think about whether you want protection… or partnership."
Then he was gone.
That night, Selena added another name to her list.
Lord Malrick Drayen: potential ally or future threat. Watch him. Always.
And beneath Damien's name:
> His instincts are waking up. But he still doesn't know which side I'm on.
Damien, meanwhile, was training alone in the courtyard shirtless, sweating, his fists wrapped. His body moved with practiced force, but his thoughts betrayed him.
He kept seeing her face.
Her calm stare.
The words she said to him over tea.
> "She died."
Who had she been before?
Who was she now?
And why did part of him want to believe her… even when everything told him not to?
He punched the sandbag harder.
Lucas, watching from the balcony, chuckled to himself.
"Oh no," he muttered. "He's definitely falling."