Chapter 7: The Serpent’s Coil

Selene’s POV

Selene stared at her reflection in the mirror, twisting a golden curl around her finger until it nearly snapped. Her eyes—green, glittering, venom-bright—glared back at her.

She was beautiful. Everyone said so.

More refined. More graceful. More deserving.

So why the hell was Seraphina stealing her air again?

She slammed the brush down on the vanity, cracking the wood.

Everything had been perfect before she came back.

Broken. Quiet. Gone.

But now Seraphina walked around the pack, like some tragic goddess—delicate smiles, soft silences, those doe eyes fluttering up at Kaelion like she’d never bled out in this very house.

Selene’s lips curled. “She should’ve stayed dead.”

For a while, Seraphina had been a ghost—meek, empty, pitiful. And Selene had rejoiced. It had made things easier.

Kaelion had begun looking her way again. Whispering promises in the dark. Telling her it was her he truly needed.

But now?

Now that bitch was glowing.

Selene had seen the way Kael’s gaze lingered on Seraphina lately. Saw how he touched her waist, murmured to her in the garden, how Seraphina leaned in with that infuriating sweetness.

She’s faking it. Selene knew.

But Kaelion didn’t.

She wanted to claw Seraphina’s eyes out. Tear her face off and scream into her bones:
“You were the weak one. You were meant to fade!”

Instead, she sat still, plotting.

Because if there was one thing Selene had learned, it was that power never came to those who waited patiently.

It was taken.

With blood.

And silence.

She stood, pacing. Her silk gown whispered along the marble floor like snakeskin.

She had tried kindness. Sisterhood. Lies laced in honey.

And Seraphina had once drunk it all down like wine.

But now? She was watching Selene with awareness in her eyes. That was dangerous. That was... new.

“She remembers something,” Selene hissed under her breath.

There was no other explanation for the change.

Seraphina was too calm. Too poised. Like a predator waiting, not a victim grieving.

And that terrified her.

“She needs to die again,” Selene whispered.
For real this time.

Later that night, she cornered Kaelion outside the war chamber.

“She’s not well,” she said softly, pressing a hand to his chest. “She’s... not herself, Kael. Don’t you see it?”

He looked weary, brows furrowed. “She’s healing.”

“She’s pretending.”

He frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying she’s dangerous. She’s not the same woman who left. There’s something wrong with her—something dark.”

Kael’s jaw clenched. “Enough, Selene.”

She stepped back, wounded. “You’re letting your guilt blind you.”

His silence gave her more than words.

She smiled. “Fine. Don’t believe me. But when she turns on you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And with that, she vanished into the shadows.

In the privacy of her chambers, Selene lit a candle and unrolled the parchment she had kept hidden for years. Blood-inked runes scrawled across it—ancient, forbidden.

Not even Kaelion knew she still practiced.

Not even he knew that the reason Seraphina had bled so easily that day was because Selene had weakened her soul first. Whispered spells that dampened her energy. Poisoned her dreams.

Magic old as the wolves themselves.

But it hadn’t been enough. Somehow, somehow, Seraphina had clawed her way back from the veil.

Selene stared at the flickering flame, fury burning behind her eyes.

“I gave you a beautiful death,” she whispered. “Next time, I’ll give you agony.”

Her hands curled into fists.

Because Selene didn’t just want Seraphina gone.

She wanted to wear her skin.

To be Luna. To rule. To have Kaelion.

To be the name sung by the howling wolves.

And if Seraphina stood in the way of that again—no spell, no force, not even the Moon Goddess herself would stop her.

Not this time.