Chapter 3:shadows and secrets

The ruins were deathly silent, save for the faint crackling of the fire. Selene sat across from Killian, her heart pounding in her chest as the weight of his words settled over her like a thick fog.

“I am the last of the Moonfallen.”

She had heard whispers of the Moonfallen Pack in childhood stories—ghosts of a lost legacy, a pack wiped from existence by the High Council for crimes too terrible to speak of. Some said they had turned against the Moon Goddess. Others claimed they had harbored a monster so dangerous that the Council had no choice but to eradicate them all.

But no one survived. No one could have survived.

And yet… here he was.

Killian’s silver eyes remained fixed on the fire, his face unreadable. The flames cast flickering shadows over the sharp angles of his features, but Selene didn’t need the light to feel the storm raging inside him.

He was a man caught between life and death, between vengeance and survival. And now, she was caught in it with him.

Selene exhaled, steadying herself. “If the High Council finds out you’re alive, they’ll hunt you down,” she said. “They’ll kill you. And me.”

Killian chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “They’ve been hunting me for years.” He shifted, wincing as his healing wounds strained against his muscles. “And you? You chose this, little wolf. No one forced you to save me.”

She bristled at the nickname. “You think I don’t know that?” she shot back. “I could’ve let the patrols find you. I should have. But I didn’t.”

Killian tilted his head, watching her now, truly seeing her. “Why?”

The question sent a shiver down her spine.

Why had she saved him?

She could tell herself it was the bond. The impossible mate connection that shouldn’t exist between them. But deep down, she knew the truth.

Because in that moment, when their eyes had met, she had seen something in him—something broken, something raw.

Something that looked a lot like her.

Selene swallowed hard. “Because I don’t believe in fate. And I don’t believe in letting people die just because the world says they should.”

For a moment, Killian said nothing. His gaze flickered to the flames, his fingers curling into the dirt beneath him. Then, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it, he whispered, “Then you’re a fool.”

She should have been angry, but all she felt was exhaustion.

“Maybe I am,” she muttered.

A tense silence settled between them. Outside, the wind howled through the ruins, rattling the brittle stone walls.

Selene hugged her knees, glancing at Killian’s wounds. His wolf was healing fast, but he was still weak. He needed rest, food, time. And those were luxuries they didn’t have.

“We can’t stay here long,” she said. “Blackwood patrols will be searching the forest by now.”

Killian scoffed. “You don’t say. It’s almost like they don’t take kindly to rogues sneaking into their territory.”

Selene rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to be an ass about it, I can just turn you in now.”

Killian smirked, his silver eyes glinting. “No, you won’t.”

Her jaw tightened. “You seem awfully sure about that.”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locked onto hers. “Because if you wanted me dead, little wolf, you wouldn’t have saved me in the first place.”

Selene’s breath caught in her throat. The air between them shifted—charged, crackling like a storm about to break.

Damn him.

He was right.

She should have walked away, should have let the past take him. But something inside her had refused.

And now, there was no turning back.

A sudden rustling outside the ruins made them both freeze.

Selene’s heart leaped into her throat. She shot to her feet, her senses sharpening. The patrols couldn’t have found them this quickly, could they?

Killian struggled to move, his body still weakened from blood loss. She turned to him, her voice low and urgent. “Stay here. Don’t make a sound.”

Before he could argue, she slipped into the shadows, moving like a ghost through the ruins. The moonlight cast eerie patterns through the cracks in the stone, painting the walls with jagged silver streaks.

Selene pressed herself against a column, her pulse hammering in her ears. The rustling grew louder, closer.

And then—

A figure stepped into the ruins.

Selene’s breath caught.

Damon.

The Blackwood warrior stood tall, his powerful frame cutting through the night like a blade. His dark eyes swept over the ruins, his nostrils flaring. He was tracking something—someone.

Selene’s stomach twisted.

If he finds Killian, he’ll kill him.

She forced herself to move, stepping out of the shadows.

“Damon.”

His head snapped toward her, surprise flashing in his eyes. “Selene? What the hell are you doing out here?”

Think. Think fast.

“I needed air,” she lied smoothly. “The Hunt was… suffocating.”

Damon frowned. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. Patrols spotted rogue activity near the eastern border.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you see anything?”

Her heart pounded. “No.”

The lie felt like a noose tightening around her throat.

Damon studied her for a long moment. Then, to her horror, he took a step deeper into the ruins. “If there’s a rogue nearby, we need to find them before they slip away.”

Selene’s palms began to sweat. She had to stop him. Had to.

“Damon, wait.”

He turned back, his brow furrowing. “What?”

Selene swallowed hard. “I… I wanted to talk to you. About the mating bond.”

That did it.

Damon hesitated, his expression unreadable. “Now?”

She forced a small, hesitant nod. “Yes. Now.”

Damon glanced at her.

Selene’s heart pounded as she stood in the dim glow of the fire, her mind racing with the weight of Killian’s revelation.

The last of the Moonfallen.

It wasn’t possible. The Moonfallen were a ghost story, a warning told to pups about the dangers of defying the High Council. No one had survived their annihilation—not a single wolf.

And yet, here he was, sitting before her, his silver eyes glowing with the burden of a past drenched in blood.

Killian watched her closely, his expression unreadable. “You should walk away, Selene,” he said, voice low and strained. “Pretend you never found me. It’s the only way you stay safe.”

She swallowed hard. The rational part of her knew he was right. If the High Council ever discovered she had saved a rogue—especially one tied to the Moonfallen—they would execute her without hesitation. But another part of her, something deeper and more instinctual, refused to abandon him.

Her wolf stirred inside her, restless. He’s ours.

Selene clenched her fists, pushing away the treacherous thought. No. He isn’t. He can’t be.

“I can’t just leave you here to die,” she said firmly. “If what you’re saying is true, then you’re in more danger than I am.”

Killian let out a bitter laugh. “You have no idea what kind of danger follows me.”

The way he said it sent a chill through her. She knew she should demand answers, force him to tell her everything, but something about the way he held himself—the exhaustion in his gaze, the unspoken torment—made her hesitate.

Instead, she stood up and grabbed a cloth from her pack, dipping it into a nearby stream before kneeling beside him. “Let me clean your wounds,” she said softly.

Killian’s entire body tensed as she reached for him. “I heal fast,” he muttered.

“I know. But you’ll heal better if you’re not covered in blood and dirt.”

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a heavy sigh, he let her press the damp cloth against his skin.

Up close, Selene could see just how battered he was. Deep claw marks raked across his chest and arms, some already beginning to fade, while bruises darkened his ribs. Whoever had done this to him had meant to kill him.

She swallowed back the urge to ask who. He wasn’t ready to tell her yet.

As she worked, the silence between them thickened. The fire crackled, the distant howl of wolves echoing through the trees. The Blood Moon Hunt was still underway. By now, her father would be wondering where she was.

But Selene didn’t move.

Killian studied her with quiet intensity. “You’re different from the others.”

She arched a brow. “You don’t know the others.”

“I know enough,” he murmured. “Your pack… your kind… they don’t hesitate to kill wolves like me.”

Selene bit the inside of her cheek. He wasn’t wrong. Blackwood was one of the strongest packs in the region, loyal to the High Council’s rule. Rogues were seen as threats, exiles who had lost their right to exist.

But Killian wasn’t just a rogue. He was something else entirely.

And that terrified her.

Before she could respond, a sudden rustling in the distance made them both freeze.

Selene’s heart leaped into her throat. Patrols.

Killian’s body tensed, his fingers twitching as if preparing to shift despite his injuries. His silver eyes locked onto hers. “If they find me, they’ll kill me,” he whispered.

She knew that.

And she knew what she had to do.

Without hesitation, Selene grabbed a handful of dirt and smeared it across Killian’s scent-marked wounds, dulling his presence. Then, she yanked him up, ignoring his wince, and dragged him toward a hollowed-out section of the ruins.

“Stay here. Don’t move,” she ordered.

Killian’s gaze darkened. “Selene—”

She turned just as the patrols emerged through the trees.

Damon Hale was at the front.

Her stomach dropped.

His sharp golden eyes flicked over her, his expression unreadable. “Selene?”

She forced herself to stand tall. “I was out clearing my head.”

Damon’s gaze swept the ruins behind her. He stepped closer, sniffing the air. “You’re bleeding.”

“I tripped,” she lied smoothly.

He frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. For a long, agonizing moment, she thought he would press further. But then he sighed and motioned for the others to move on.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, voice tight with something she couldn’t name. “Come back to the packhouse.”

Selene hesitated. Just long enough for Killian’s silver eyes to flash in her mind.

Just long enough to realize that, for the first time in her life…

She had something to protect.