CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5: 

The Stranger in the Mirror 

Selene( pov)

The room was quiet when I awoke again. I briefly believed I was still in the dream, stuck in that never-ending pit of screaming and flames. My skin pricked as if ash still adhered to me, and my lungs hurt as if they had been filled with smoke. But as soon as I sat up, the reality of my situation enveloped me like a strange mask.

The rustic cabin was small, with walls composed of uneven logs that appeared to be about to collapse. In stark contrast to my memories of blood and smoke, the air smelled of sage and dried herbs. The sound of rustling leaves was carried by a slight breeze that slipped through a broken window.

The thing on the far wall caught my attention almost instantly. Above a wooden table, a mirror leaned crookedly, its surface cracked diagonally. It was the only item that didn't belong in the room. The silver had long tarnished, but the frame was elaborate, carved with moons and spirals.

I knew deep down that I needed to look.

Every step I took was laden with fear as I stood on shaky legs. Sweat slicked my palms as I came closer. The breath was taken from my chest as soon as I looked up.

I couldn't recognize the reflection staring back at me.

The face was different—paler skin, sharper cheekbones, and lips darker than ever before. Unlike the dark locks I wore with pride as Luna-to-be, my long, silvery hair fell over my shoulders like liquid moonlight. I was most uneasy about the eyes, though.

I didn't own them.

They had a stormy gray color and were speckled with shadows that I was unfamiliar with. Nevertheless, there was something eerily familiar hidden deep within them.

"No." With my fingers reaching up to touch my cheek, I whispered. I felt as though the skin belonged to someone else, even though the reflection was a mirror image of me.

My heart was pounding so hard that it hurt, so I grabbed the edge of the table to steady myself. This isn't true. It's another dream. One more curse.

However, everything felt solid when I turned, touched my arm, and pressed against my chest. concrete. Actual.

Then I caught a glimpse of it—on my shoulder, showing through the rough material of the borrowed dress. A crescent-shaped scar, faint and glowing. The mark of my friend.

My knees nearly buckled.

The connection. It ought to have perished with me. However, it was there, charred into this stranger's skin as if the cosmos had twice marked me. A sob clawed at my constricted throat, but nothing came out.

My body wasn't this. But the connection—our connection—remained.

"Who... who am I?" The woman in the mirror did not respond when I whispered to her. I was reminded that I was no longer whole by that shattered reflection, which was divided by a crack that sliced my face in half.

The door creaked before my panic could overwhelm me. My fists clenched as I spun.

The elderly woman came in with a steaming bowl of broth. With frightening accuracy, her eyes—those unsettling pools of milky white—locked onto me.

As if she had been waiting, she said softly, "You've seen it."

I trembled when I spoke. "I'm not this person. My face is not this. How did you harm me?

Her weak body creaked like brittle wood as she straightened and placed the bowl on the table. "Child, I did nothing. It was fate. Your soul screamed the instant your life was taken, and fate's threads would not allow you to disappear. This was an empty body. Awaiting.

"Is it empty?" I echoed in horror. "You mean this was someone else's property?"

"Yes." The elderly woman spoke in a solemn tone. "A woman who was cursed by her own people." Exiled. Even the Moon Goddess turned her face away from her sins. But the body was still there when death took her. Empty. Consequently, your soul entered.

I shook my head and staggered back. "So I'm stuck in the body of a dead woman?"

"Alive." She spoke slowly and deliberately. "Cursed." And that curse still exists. Even now, like smoke after fire, it clings to you. This opportunity will burn away if you don't break it, and you will once again fade.

The mountain air could never have chilled me as much as her words did.

"What's the curse?" I insisted.

The mark on my shoulder briefly caught the woman's attention. "The curse of treachery." Blood for blood. The woman whose body you are wearing was hunted down, despised, and labeled a traitor. Vengeance tore her soul apart, and that shadow still haunts her body. The curse will devour you unless you find the truth and purify it. Slowly. inflicted pain.

My heart was thumping wildly as I put a hand to my chest. "So I was promised another death after escaping the first one?"

Her mouth formed a shape halfway between sympathy and brutality. Maybe. Unless you have the strength to shape your own destiny.

I couldn't take my eyes off the stranger's face, so I turned back to the mirror. My mind was racing with anger, fear, and questions. One truth, however, shone through the storm more brilliantly than the others.

The mark.

When I touched it, a slight but noticeable flicker of warmth ignited beneath my fingertips. The connection.

"He's not dead yet," I muttered. It sounded like a prayer. "My friend. He must be.

The elderly woman studied me with a tilt of her head. Maybe. Would he recognize you in this form, though, even if he is? Would he desire you?

Even though her words were sharp, I gritted my teeth. I refused to be led astray by doubt. Never again.

My eyes were burning with tears, but I turned to her and spoke steadily. "It doesn't matter if he thinks I'm a stranger. I'll track him down. I will find out who took my crown, who poisoned me, and I will get back everything that was taken from me. even if I am deemed cursed by the world.

A grim smile flickered across the woman's lips. Then your journey starts in darkness. Be cautious when you walk. Some people will recognize you by that mark, and they will murder you before you can breathe again.

Her caution only made me more enraged. I was dead once before. Now I wouldn't cower.

I crept out of the cabin that night when the woman eventually withdrew into her own quarters. Nocturnal sounds filled the forest: the crunch of twigs beneath my bare feet, the whisper of leaves, and the cries of distant owls. The moon hung low, illuminating the earth with silvery rays.

I breathed freely for the first time since my rebirth. The air was cold and sharp, but it gave me hope.

I ventured farther into the forest, relying more on instinct than on guidance. Every step was a promise: I would meet my soul mate. I would bring the traitor to light. I would lift the curse.

But then there was a howl.

Guttural, low, resonating through the trees. My heart twitched. The sound of wolves was familiar to every fiber of my being, and for a brief, careless instant I thought it was him—my mate, calling to me across the bond.

"Kael..." My chest ached with desire as I whispered.

Nearby branches snapped. My heartbeat accelerated. I leaned up against a tree and peered through the darkness.

Then it came out.

A large, dark wolf with mud-matted fur and crimson streaks. However, the eyes were what anchored me to the spot, not the size or the scars.

Red as blood.

They locked onto me with a savage intensity, glowing strangely in the moonlight. As the creature approached, its lips curled into a snarl, my breath caught in my throat.

However, it wasn't the beast itself that made me go completely cold.

It was the subsequent sound.

My name was growled in a guttural but unmistakably clear voice.

"Selene..."

The globe whirled. My blood became icy. The wolf was familiar with me.

Then it lunged.