Chapter 32 – Taken

Chapter 32 – Taken

Selene’s POV

Lucian’s rescue should have made me feel safe.

It should have made me feel protected, maybe even cherished. He had appeared in that alley like a storm, all fire and fury, tearing through the darkness to get to me. I should have crumbled into him, into that unwavering strength, and let myself believe... just for a moment... that everything would be alright.

But it wasn’t.

Not really.

Because safety doesn’t always mean peace. And love... if it had ever existed between us... felt more like a shadow now, something I couldn’t grasp even when I was surrounded by it.

When he wrapped his arms around me that night, I felt warmth. But not healing. Not clarity. Not absolution. Just warmth... fleeting and fragile.

That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling long after Lucian had fallen asleep. His even breaths should have comforted me, but instead, I felt more alone than I ever had before. The ceiling became my canvas of torment, my thoughts drawing cruel pictures of what love should look like... what it never looked like with me.

By morning, I was silent.

Not because I wanted to punish him, but because words had turned into thorns in my throat. If I opened my mouth, I feared all that would pour out was confusion, grief, and that terrifying feeling that maybe... just maybe... I wasn’t enough.

I barely spoke a word to him as I left for work. He noticed. I saw it in the way his brows drew together, the way his hand hovered near mine as though debating whether to reach out. He didn’t. Neither did I.

At the academy, I became a machine.

Each task, each brew, each scribbled note felt like part of a script I had memorized but no longer believed in. I moved with a purpose I didn’t feel. I kept my head down and let the hours drag me forward, minute by minute, like I was walking through thick fog.

That was when I heard my name.

“Selene?”

I turned. It was Mira, one of the newer apprentices, her voice soft and uncertain. “Isolde wants to speak with you… in her office.”

I froze.

Of all the people I didn’t want to see... couldn’t stomach seeing... Isolde was at the very top of that list. Still, I nodded, forcing a polite thank-you as I gathered my courage.

Every step toward her office echoed louder than the last.

By the time I reached her door, I could hear the phantom of her voice in my head... smiling, perfect, always composed. The woman who had once held Lucian’s heart. Who still might. The woman who didn’t have to fight for attention, because the world naturally turned toward her.

“Come in,” she said before I even knocked, as though she’d been waiting, sensing my arrival.

Her office was pristine, every item perfectly placed. A single orchid bloomed in the corner, vibrant and delicate. It felt like her... calculated beauty.

“Good morning,” she said, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “My mother asked me to give this to you.”

She slid a single sheet across the polished surface of her desk.

I took it.

It was a registration form... for the regional potion contest. The one Nyra had encouraged me to consider. The one I’d once daydreamed about, back when I believed my work could actually matter. That I could stand out for something that had nothing to do with Lucian.

“You’re thinking of joining?” Isolde’s tone was pleasant, but her eyes told a different story. Her fingers clutched the form so tightly that her knuckles turned pale, almost as if it physically pained her to let it go.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I said, careful.

A pause stretched between us, silent but heavy.

“You’re talented,” she offered. “My mother says so often. But… if I’m being honest, the competition is incredibly demanding. Cutthroat, even. You haven’t trained long enough. Perhaps it might be wiser to wait. Maybe next year?”

There it was... that practiced softness in her tone, that suggestion dressed as kindness but stitched with doubt. A warning disguised as advice.

I nodded, slipping the form into my folder, ignoring the way her gaze followed it like a threat.

But then her expression shifted. The cool poise she wore like armor cracked, just a little. She exhaled, her smile wavering, and looked away.

“There’s something else,” she said softly. “Something I didn’t know how to say until now.”

I braced myself.

“I still love him,” she whispered, and suddenly the mask was gone. Her voice shook. “Lucian. I know I shouldn't say this. I know it's wrong. But I saw him yesterday and… I couldn’t stop myself. I just needed to see him.”

The confession hit me like a slap.

She sniffled and pulled a tissue from her desk drawer. “I miss him so much, Selene. Every minute apart is agony. He’s my fated mate. Do you understand how hard it is to live knowing your soul is tethered to someone you can’t have?”

I said nothing.

She clutched the tissue tighter. “I asked him to come back. To choose me. He said no. He told me he couldn’t leave you. That it would be wrong.”

I believed her. Lucian was many things, but dishonorable wasn’t one of them.

“He’s loyal. You know that better than anyone,” Isolde continued. “But loyalty isn’t love. You must know that too. He’s doing the noble thing, staying by your side. But what if it’s not what he truly wants? What if his heart is with me, and he’s just too bound by his word to admit it?”

I opened my mouth. Then closed it. My throat felt like sandpaper.

“Selene,” she said, reaching across the desk and taking my hands. “Help him. Help us. Don’t trap him in something born of duty. Let him follow his heart.”

She was asking me to give him up.

To step aside and let fate run its course.

And the sickening thing was... I understood.

I had no claim over Lucian’s heart. Our marriage wasn’t spun from love. It was born from necessity. From politics and circumstance. But somewhere along the way, he had become more to me. I had let myself hope. Let myself dream that maybe, against all odds, I mattered.

Now… I wasn’t so sure.

“I’ll talk to him,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, relief washing over her face, and squeezed my hands in gratitude. But all I could feel was a fresh tear in my chest.

I returned to my desk like a ghost.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I couldn’t tell you what potions I brewed or which herbs I handled. I couldn’t recall a single word anyone said to me. My mind was stuck on one thought: if Lucian chose her, I would walk away.

But if he chose me... truly chose me... then I would never let him go again.

***

That evening, I didn’t waste time.

I went home.

Lucian was there, seated at the kitchen table with a book open in front of him. He looked up the second I walked in.

“How was work?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Okay,” I said, setting my bag down. “We need to talk.”

He shut the book immediately, focusing on me like I was the only thing in the world. “What is it?”

I sat across from him. My palms were damp.

“I think… you should talk to Isolde.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“She wants to see you. She says it’s important.”

“No,” he said flatly. “I don’t have anything to say to her.”

“She’s your mate.”

He stiffened.

“And I’m just the girl caught in a contract,” I added, the words stinging as they left my mouth.

“Selene.” His voice was sharp now. “What the hell are you saying?”

Tears burned my eyes. “Please. Just talk to her. That’s all I’m asking.”

He stood, jaw tight, frustration radiating off him.

But then… he sighed.

And nodded.

“Alright. I’ll meet her. Only because you asked.”

He grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

And with that, the emptiness I’d been holding at bay finally swallowed me whole.

I sat for a moment, motionless. Then I stood. Then I paced. The walls felt too close. The air too heavy.

Eventually, I slipped outside for a walk. Just a few blocks. Just to clear my head.

But fate had something else in store.

I had just passed the corner bakery when something cold and damp slammed against my mouth from behind. The smell hit me instantly... pungent, chemical, wrong.

I thrashed, tried to scream, tried to kick... but strong arms held me like steel.

The world spun.

The sky twisted above me, blurred and distant.

Then darkness took me.