CHAPTER TWO: THE ROGUE WOLF
Selene's POV
Pain was all I knew.
It radiated from my shoulder in waves, sharp and unrelenting. The silver bullet was still lodged inside me, poisoning my blood, making every breath feel like fire in my lungs.
I drifted in and out of consciousness as the soldiers dragged me through the forest. My feet scraped against the ground, too weak to hold my weight.
The world tilted and spun, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision.
"Keep moving," one of them barked.
I tried. I really did. But my body had reached its limit.
When we finally emerged from the trees, I forced my eyes open.
What I saw stole what little breath I had left.
The Nightshade packlands stretched before me, vast and ominous under the pale moonlight.
Unlike the Crescent territory with its grand marble structures and manicured gardens, this place was raw and powerful. Stone buildings rose from the earth like ancient sentinels, their architecture brutal and functional.
Wolves moved through the shadows, all muscle and predatory grace. And they all stopped to stare at me.
Their eyes glowed in the darkness; gold, amber, ice-blue. Every single one of them radiated hostility. I could feel their hatred like a physical weight pressing down on me.
"Crescent scum," someone spat as we passed.
Another wolf growled low in their throat, the sound promising violence.
I lowered my gaze, trying to make myself smaller. Invisible. But there was no hiding what I was—the scent of Crescent blood clung to me like a brand.
The soldiers hauled me toward the largest building at the center of the territory. Its doors were made of reinforced steel, flanked by guards who watched our approach with cold calculation.
They pushed the doors open and dragged me inside.
The room was massive, with high ceilings and walls lined with weapons; swords, axes, guns, all gleaming and deadly. A long table dominated the center, covered in maps and battle plans.
And at the far end of the table stood him.
Even from across the room, I could feel the power radiating from him. He was tall; taller than Caleb—with broad shoulders and a presence that seemed to fill every corner of the space. His hair was dark as midnight, styled back from a face that could have been carved from stone. He wore all black, from his tactical boots to the fitted shirt that did nothing to hide the lethal strength beneath.
But it was his eyes that made my heart stutter.
Silver. Cold and merciless as a winter storm.
He didn't look up as we entered. He was focused on one of the maps, his jaw tight with concentration.
"Alpha," one of my captors said, bowing his head.
"We found her near the southern border. She's Crescent."
That got his attention.
Those silver eyes lifted, locking onto me with an intensity that made me want to shrink back. He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
"A Crescent wolf."
His voice was deep, rough, and utterly devoid of warmth.
"On my land."
It wasn't a question.
I forced myself to meet his gaze, even though every instinct screamed at me to look away.
"I didn't mean to trespass."
"And yet here you are."
He moved around the table with fluid, predatory grace. Each step was measured and controlled.
"Bleeding on my territory."
He stopped a few feet away, towering over me. Up close, he was even more intimidating—all sharp angles and barely contained violence. A scar cut through his left eyebrow, giving him a dangerous edge.
This was Alpha Damon Salvatore.
The wolf every Crescent pup was taught to fear from childhood.
"What were you running from?" he asked.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry.
"People who wanted me dead."
"That's not specific enough."
"Does it matter?"
The words came out sharper than I intended, exhaustion overriding my sense of self-preservation.
"You're going to kill me anyway."
Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or amusement. It was gone before I could name it.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Selene."
The room went absolutely silent.
I saw the recognition flash across his face, followed quickly by something darker. His soldiers exchanged glances, their hands moving instinctively toward their weapons.
"Selene," Damon repeated slowly, as if tasting the name.
"The weak daughter of Crescent's eastern pack."
The word weak landed like a blow, but I refused to flinch. I'd heard it too many times to let it hurt anymore.
"Yes," I said simply.
He circled me slowly, assessing.
"And what would drive Crescent's weakest wolf to cross into Nightshade territory? Desperation? Stupidity? Or perhaps you're a spy."
"I'm not a spy."
"That's what a spy would say."
I bit back a hysterical laugh. After everything I'd been through tonight, being accused of espionage was almost funny.
"I was framed," I said, my voice steadier now despite the pain screaming through my shoulder.
"Betrayed by my own mate and my sister. They accused me of treason and tried to kill me. I ran. Your territory was the only place they wouldn't follow."
Damon stopped in front of me, his silver eyes searching mine.
"Your mate betrayed you."
It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway.
"And you expect me to believe this story? To show you mercy because you claim to be a victim?"
"I don't expect anything from you," I said honestly.
"I know what Nightshade thinks of Crescents. I know you've probably killed my kind for less than trespassing. But I'm telling you the truth."
He leaned in closer, and I caught his scent—pine and smoke and something wild that made my wolf stir despite her weakness.
"The truth," he murmured,
"is that you're a Crescent wolf standing in the heart of my territory, wounded and defenseless. By Nightshade law, I should execute you where you stand."
My heart hammered against my ribs, but I kept my chin up. "Then do it."
His eyes narrowed. "You're not afraid."
"I'm terrified," I admitted. "But I'm also too tired to beg."
For a long moment, he just stared at me. Then, without warning, he straightened and turned to his soldiers
.
"Take her to the holding cells. She'll be executed at dawn."
The words should have terrified me. But all I felt was a strange, hollow numbness.
The soldiers grabbed my arms again, already dragging me toward the door.
"Alpha, wait—" The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
Damon paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
"If you're going to kill me anyway," I said, my voice raw,
"at least tell me why your kind hates mine so much. What did we do to Nightshade to deserve this?"
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes.
"You really don't know?"
I shook my head.
He turned fully to face me, and for the first time, I saw real emotion in his expression—rage, old and deep and bitter.
"Twenty years ago, Crescent wolves slaughtered half my pack in a coordinated attack. They burned our homes, killed our children, and left our elders to die in the flames."
His voice was low, controlled, but I could hear the fury beneath it.
"My father was one of them. He died protecting this territory from your kind."
The blood drained from my face.
"I... I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't."
His lip curled in disgust.
"Crescent doesn't teach its wolves about the atrocities it commits. It just trains you to see us as the enemy."
"I'm sorry," I whispered, and I meant it.
"I'm so sorry."
"Your apologies mean nothing to me."
He nodded to the guards.
"Get her out of my sight."
They dragged me away, and this time I didn't resist.
As the heavy door slammed shut behind us, sealing me in darkness, I finally let the tears fall.
I had lost everything. My mate, my family, my pack.
And now, I was going to lose my life.