The night was deathly still.
The storm had passed, the skies had cleared, and the air around Blackmoor Keep felt wrong –too quiet, as if the world held its breath.
Selene sat in the temple ruins, surrounded by shards of glowing crystal–the remnants of the shattered moonstone. Her hands trembled as she clutched the largest piece, still warm from the sealing spell.
Daxon's warmth was gone.
His scent was fading from the wind.
And yet… something clung to the pendant, like an echo refusing to die.
Cian stirred beside her. He was propped against a stone slab, skin pale, eyes glazed with pain. She'd bound his wounds with trembling fingers, used her magic to stop the bleeding. But he was far from healed.
He reached out weakly, his fingers brushing hers.
"I thought I'd lost you," Selene whispered.
His lips curved faintly. "You nearly did."
Tears spilled from her eyes. "I couldn't protect either of you."
Cian's hand tightened. "Daxon made a choice. And he'd do it again."
That made it worse.
Because she knew it was true.
She looked up at the fractured moon overhead, heart heavy with a grief too raw to name.
A part of her was missing now. Not just Daxon. But the version of herself who believed she could survive this war without breaking.
The next morning came like a knife.
Selene walked through the Keep like a shadow, ignoring whispers and stares. Omega servants bowed as she passed, but no one dared speak. The news had spread fast: Vaughn was dead. A void was sealed. But an Alpha was gone.
A hero. A traitor's slayer.
Daxon Blackmoor.
And she hadn't even buried him.
She entered the war room, now quiet and cold. Maps still hung from the walls. Council members sat around the long stone table, murmuring low.
Alpha Rael, an older wolf with salt in his hair and suspicion in his voice, stood when she walked in.
"Luna," he greeted stiffly. "The council grieves with you. But we must ask – what now?"
Selene didn't flinch. "Now, we mourn. Then we prepare."
"Prepare for what?" another member asked. "The threat has passed. Vaughn's dead. The void is closed."
Selene slammed her palm on the table, the crystal in her hand flaring with light. "It is not over. Vaughn was a servant, not the master. Something else is coming and we're running out of time."
The council stilled.
She glanced at the sigils carved into the walls, at the names of ancient Alphas etched into the stone.
"My power didn't stop it," she continued. "Not fully. And Daxon… he didn't die just to give us false peace."
Alpha Rael stepped forward. "Do you have proof?"
Selene met his gaze. "I don't need proof. I have instinct. And if that's not enough for you, then you're not fit to sit at this table."
Rael bristled but he didn't argue.
Because everyone in that room had felt the void scream.
That night, Selene didn't return to her chambers.
She couldn't bear the silence. The scent of Daxon lingering on the walls. The cold of his absence pressing into her chest.
Instead, she wandered the Keep like a ghost.
Cian had begged her to rest. He'd fallen asleep in the healing wing, still too weak to shift, too injured to follow.
She needed space.
And answers.
As she moved through the halls, the pendant fragment pulsed again, tugging her hand toward the eastern tower. A wing she hadn't entered before –older than the others. Cracked stone, sealed doors. Abandoned.
The guards didn't stop her. She doubted they even saw her.
A dream had drawn her there.
Or maybe something else.
She reached the final door—wooden, warped, sealed with chains.
But the chains crumbled at her touch.
Inside was darkness.
She stepped in, heart pounding.
The walls were lined with mirrors—tall, arched, each fogged with age. The room smelled like ash and cold magic. In the center stood a pedestal.
On it: a journal.
She approached slowly.
The name engraved on the cover made her breath stop.
Daxon Wolfe.
Not Blackmoor.
Wolfe.
Her hands trembled as she opened it.
The pages were written in Daxon's handwriting –entries spanning years. Reports. Confessions. Secrets.
She flipped to the most recent one. The ink was still fresh.
"She'll never forgive me if she finds out. But I made the deal. I had to. The power she needs to survive what's coming… it comes at a cost. I'll pay it. I'll pay all of it."
Selene's chest constricted.
Another entry.
"They think I'm the rival Alpha. The one meant to fight for her. But that's not what the prophecy said. It was changed. Hidden. Because the truth is worse.
I'm not her rival. I'm her anchor."
The pendant in her hand pulsed once. Then again.
The mirror beside her cracked.
Selene spun, heart racing.
Behind her reflection… something moved.
A flash of white. A shadow of a man.
"Daxon?" she whispered.
The mirror shattered.
A wind howled through the room, and her wolf surged to the surface, snarling in warning.
From the shards, a voice rose –his voice.
Faint. Echoed. Not truly alive.
"I'm not dead."
Selene froze.
"What…?"
"They didn't let me die, Selene. They took me."
More glass cracked. Another mirror splintered.
Selene staggered back, gripping the journal.
"Who took you?!"
"The ones who come after the void. The ones no one remembers. The—"
The voice cut out.
The lights died.
And in the final mirror… a figure appeared.
A woman in white.
Eyes like the moon. Hair to her waist. Skin so pale it glowed.
"You shouldn't be here yet," she said, voice calm and cruel.
"Who are you?" Selene asked, heart pounding.
But she already knew.
The woman smiled.
"The one your mother sealed… and the one you will set free."
Before Selene could scream, the floor gave out.
-----
Author's note:
Whew! The tension is rising, so is the heat and we are not ready
Selene just discovered:
Daxon is not dead.
He was taken by something beyond the void.
He's her anchor.
And now the mysterious woman in white has made her move.
Things are about to get more intense. Stay tuned!