LOGINThe night did not pass gently.Selene knew this because time no longer moved the way it used to.Before the restructuring, hours had flowed like breath—marked by Rowan’s warmth at her back, Lucien’s steady presence in the shadows, the bond humming between them like a shared pulse. Now, time fractured into pieces: moments stretched thin and sharp, each one demanding to be survived rather than simply lived.She stood within the gold circle long after her legs began to tremble.The ache in her chest had not lessened. It had changed—flattened into something dull and constant, like pressure beneath the skin that never fully released. Every instinct screamed for closeness, for contact, for the reassurance that came from touch and shared breath.She denied them all.Not because she wanted to.Because she had chosen to.Across the stone floor, Rowan remained in the amber circle. He had shifted his weight more than once, pacing the edge of the boundary li
They didn’t call it separation.Not out loud.Because the word tasted like abandonment, and none of them could survive saying it.Lucien called it structure. Rowan called it strategy. Selene called it what it felt like—pain chosen on purpose.The sanctuary’s fire had burned down to a low, steady glow, as if it too understood that tonight was not for warmth. Tonight was for endurance.Selene stood in the center of the main room while Rowan paced along the edge of the wards like a caged storm. Lucien remained still near the hearth, hands clasped behind his back, composed in a way that only came from centuries of training himself not to crack under pressure.The quiet was wrong.It wasn’t peace.It was preparation.Rowan finally stopped moving. “Tell me exactly how this works.”Lucien’s silver eyes lifted. “We create distance without severing the bond.”Rowan’s jaw clenched. “You keep saying that like it makes it better.”“It makes i
Against YouThe sanctuary did not break.It bent.Selene felt it the moment she opened her eyes again—not with sight, but with instinct. The wards no longer hummed in smooth, even patterns. They pulsed unevenly now, like a heartbeat struggling to keep rhythm after running too hard.The air tasted wrong.Not blood.Not smoke.Fear.She sat up too quickly, breath tearing from her chest as pain lanced behind her eyes. The world swam—stone stretching, firelight smearing into gold and shadow.“Easy.”Rowan’s voice anchored her, firm and immediate. His hands were already on her shoulders, solid and warm, grounding her before panic could fully take hold.Lucien was there too—she felt him before she saw him. Cool presence. Controlled tension. Shadows tight and coiled, as if they were being held back by force of will alone.“You crossed again,” Lucien said quietly.Selene swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to.”“We know,” Rowan said, brush
ThroughThe knock came again.Not sound—vibration.Stone shuddered beneath Selene’s feet, a low, resonant tremor that rippled through the sanctuary walls like a warning carried through bone instead of air. The fire guttered briefly, flames dipping toward black before stabilizing again.Lucien was already moving.His shadows rose, thin and precise, threading into the walls and floor as he pressed his senses outward. His posture sharpened into something cold and lethal, centuries of survival sliding into place.Rowan shifted in the opposite direction—closer to Selene.His body angled subtly, instinctively, putting himself between her and whatever pressed against the wards. His claws flexed, then stilled as he forced them back, choosing presence over panic.Selene stood frozen between them, heart hammering so loudly she was sure they could hear it.“Not the king,” Lucien murmured, voice distant. “This presence is… patient.”Rowan growled lo
Selene woke to silence that felt too clean.Not the gentle hush of the sanctuary’s wards. Not the steady crackle of Lucien’s fire. This was a sharper quiet—like the moment after a scream when your ears are still ringing, and you’re waiting to find out what broke.She lay still for a beat, listening.Rowan’s breathing was nearby, warm and heavy, a familiar anchor. Lucien’s presence sat like shadowed iron at the edge of the room—awake, watchful, always.But beneath that safety, something else stirred inside her.A thin, cold thread.Fear.It hadn’t left her after she collapsed. It had only waited until she was conscious enough to feel it fully.Selene swallowed, throat dry, and forced herself to sit up.Rowan’s eyes snapped open immediately. “Hey—”“I’m okay,” she whispered too fast.Rowan sat up with her, his hand finding her waist automatically before he caught himself and eased t
The surge came without warning.Selene felt it as a sudden tightening behind her eyes, a pressure that bloomed outward like a star collapsing in on itself. One moment she was breathing steadily, grounded between Rowan and Lucien, the sanctuary calm around them.The next—The world tilted.Her knees buckled before she could speak.Rowan caught her instantly, his arms locking around her waist as her weight sagged against him. “Selene—”Her name left his mouth like a plea.Lucien moved at the same time, shadows flaring instinctively as he steadied her shoulders, silver eyes blazing with alarm. “Easy. Don’t fight it.”“I’m—fine,” Selene tried to say.But the word never fully formed.The pressure spiked sharply, white-hot and dizzying, and then everything went dark.---Rowan lowered her carefully onto the bench near the hearth, hands shaking despite his effort to stay co







