With her fists pressed against the chilly stone wall, Seraphina's voice cracked in the silence.
"You think you can keep me locked away like a pet?"
Her breath hitched.
There was no answer.
The chamber remained eerily still. Even the soldiers outside her door didn't shuffle.
Under the golden sconces, she paced barefoot across marble floors so polished they reflected her pale figure. She had never seen a room so opulent—feather-stuffed pillows, perfumed oils waiting beside a deep tub.
Silk curtains swayed with the desert wind.
Yet Seraphina felt anything but free.
A velvet-lined cage was still a cage.
A sound made her turn.
A soft click.
She stiffened.
The guards weren't there.
The air felt… thinner.
A shadow shifted.
Slowly, she backed toward the bed, her gaze sweeping the room. Her hands clenched. Her heart pounded, but her voice stayed low and steady.
"Who's there? Come out."
Silence.
Then movement.
A dark-clad, masked figure stepped from behind the wardrobe, a dagger catching moonlight from the window.
Seraphina barely had time to shout.
She leapt sideways, grabbed the nearest object—a decorative lamp—and hurled it. It shattered against the wall.
The intruder ducked and advanced with fluid, lethal grace.
The dagger swung.
She rolled across the bed, ducking instinctively. Her shoulder slammed into the floor. Pain flared.
"Stay back!" she cried, scrambling toward the dresser.
There was nowhere to run.
The door was locked.
As he lunged, the dagger snagged a lock of her hair.
Then thunder ripped through the chamber.
The assailant was thrown backward as if struck by an invisible force, crashing hard into the wall. His blade clattered across the floor.
Seraphina gasped.
She hadn't touched him.
Her chest rose and fell sharply as she stared at her hands.
Did she do that?
The door exploded open.
Kael was the first through, dark hair disheveled, tunic half-untied as though dragged from sleep. Blood stained his knuckles.
Behind him, guards poured in.
"Clear the hall," he snarled. "Now."
The soldiers moved instantly, hauling the barely conscious attacker away.
Kael stood in the center of the room, breathing hard.
Seraphina looked up at him from the floor.
"You—how did you know?" she whispered.
He didn't answer.
His eyes swept over her body, searching.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. "I didn't touch him. But I stopped him."
"You didn't," he muttered.
She blinked. "Then who—?"
"I did."
He crossed the room and reached for her.
She hesitated, then took his hand.
His grip was warm. Steady.
He pulled her to her feet.
"You came fast," she said.
"I never left the hall," Kael replied. "I was watching."
Her eyes narrowed. "Spying on me?"
"Protecting you."
She stepped back. "I need freedom, not protection."
His voice dropped. "Freedom attracts enemies. Especially for you."
"Because I'm an omega? A rogue?"
He stepped closer. "Because someone marked you. And now everyone—myself included—is trying to understand why."
She inhaled sharply. "What do you mean, marked me?"
"They sense prophecy in your blood," Kael said. "Your scent changed tonight. It woke something ancient in this court."
"That's insane. I don't believe—"
"Belief doesn't stop the future."
She turned toward the window, moonlight painting her reflection in silver.
"Then tell me who I am," she whispered. "Because I don't know anymore."
Kael stepped close—but not close enough to touch.
"I don't think you're ready for the answer."
"Try me."
He turned away.
"Meet me at dawn," he said. "Outside the Hall of Ash. No guards."
"Why?"
"Because you only see your true self in moonlight."
Then he was gone.
Her heart raced as silence reclaimed the room.
For the first time in her life, Seraphina didn't fear the dark.
She feared herself.
"Walk," Kael said quietly behind her.
Bare feet crunched against cold, sharp stone as she followed him through winding corridors beneath the palace. Firelight faded, replaced by moonlight.
A wind rose—earthy, ancient.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To honesty," Kael replied.
The silk ties had left faint marks on her wrists. Her robe clung to healing skin, too fragile. Too clean.
Like a costume.
The tunnel opened suddenly into open sky.
A vast canyon bathed in moonlight spread before them. At its center lay a black lake, perfectly still.
The Pool Burned by the Moon.
Seraphina gasped.
"No one's allowed here."
"Only those bound to the Moonborn legacy," Kael said coldly. "You crossed more than borders."
At the edge, she turned to him. "Do you think I'm one of you?"
His gaze dropped to her collarbone, where silver glimmered faintly beneath skin.
"I think you're something we don't understand."
She hesitated. "What if I don't like what I see?"
"You've lived with lies," Kael said quietly. "Truth is the last freedom."
She stepped into the water.
Cold bit deep.
The pool began to glow.
Her reflection changed.
Eyes turned white, galaxies swirling within. Veins glowed with moonlight. A silver crescent unfolded across her collarbone.
"No," she whispered. "The Moonborn mark."
Kael stepped back, breath hitching.
"This shouldn't exist."
"What is it?" she demanded.
"Two hundred years ago, the Moonborn line died."
"Apparently not."
"Don't mock this."
"I'm scared," she snapped. "What does it mean?"
"It means the gods are moving again."
Mist rolled across the canyon.
Kael grabbed her arm.
"Out. Now."
A shadow watched from the far stone.
Gone as quickly as it appeared.
Back in her chamber, Kael finally spoke.
"No one can know."
"Why?"
"Because if they do, you'll die."
"And that's safety?"
"From everyone."
At the door, she stopped him.
"You didn't recoil."
"When?"
"When the mark appeared."
Kael met her gaze.
"I've seen monsters," he said. "You're not one."
He left.
Seraphina stared at her reflection.
The mark still glowed.
And somewhere beyond the walls, something ancient wailed.
Not a wolf.
Something older.
Awakening.