Chapter 102: Enemies in the Shadows

The warmth of the evening air turned cold as Serena stared at the symbol seared into the paper—a jagged moon bleeding black ink, surrounded by thorned runes. Her fingers clenched around it involuntarily.

The Forsaken.

Once thought annihilated, they were little more than whispers in the dark, monsters parents warned their children about. But Serena knew this wasn’t folklore. It was real. The mark pulsed with the kind of malevolent energy that couldn’t be faked.

Elias stood silently at her side, his expression grim. Theron hovered near the door, his usual calm cracking under pressure.

“This was placed on my desk,” Serena said, her voice low but steady. “While I was asleep—under our roof. In the heart of the capital.”

“Which means,” Elias added, “we have a traitor inside.”

Theron cursed under his breath. “Or worse—multiple.”

Serena exhaled slowly, then straightened. “We need to notify the Council. Tonight. I’ll speak to them myself.”

Elias nodded, already turning toward the exit. “I’ll summon them.”

When the council chamber doors opened less than an hour later, the room was thick with tension. Elders murmured amongst themselves, their expressions shadowed with distrust and unease. Serena stepped into the center, the charred paper in hand.

“The Forsaken have returned,” she declared.

Silence dropped like a stone.

“That’s not possible,” Magnus, a heavyset Alpha with deep frown lines, said as he stood. “We exterminated the last of them fifteen years ago.”

“Then they were reborn,” Serena replied. “And they want me dead.”

The elders stirred. Some sat straighter, others folded their arms in skepticism.

“Show them,” Theron said from behind her.

Serena unfolded the scorched parchment and held it up. The mark was unmistakable—arcane and ancient. Every elder present recognized it, though most hadn’t seen it in decades.

One of the few who had, Elder Alira—the blind seer draped in silver robes—lifted her head and inhaled slowly.

“The moon speaks of echoes,” she whispered. “And death that walks like memory.”

The room quieted. Even Magnus didn’t speak.

“I found this on my desk after being asleep under a full security detail,” Serena continued. “This isn’t just a threat—it’s proof. They’re here. They’ve infiltrated.”

“You’re certain?” one of the younger elders asked.

Elias stepped forward. “Several palace staff have gone missing in the last three nights. No notice. No sign of a struggle. Just vanished.”

Theron added, “And we’ve found blood residue in the southeast wing. Old blood, smeared under one of the windows. Hidden.”

“Why weren’t we informed of this earlier?” Magnus snapped.

“Because we didn’t want to incite panic before we were certain,” Serena said sharply. “Now we are.”

Alira raised her hand slowly. “This is not a time for blame. This is a time for prophecy.” She turned her clouded eyes toward Serena. “The Luna walks a path not of peace, but fire. You were not born to preserve, Serena. You were born to burn through what no longer serves.”

A chill ran down Serena’s spine, though her stance didn’t falter.

“If they’ve returned, they’re not coming for the throne. They’re coming for me,” she said.

“Why you?” Magnus asked, brows drawn. “You’re not just a Luna. You’re—”

“A bridge,” Alira interrupted. “Between old blood and new. And bridges must be tested before they can carry the weight of change.”

The chamber fell into a contemplative silence. Serena held their stares one by one before nodding. “We’ll increase patrols. Triple the magical wards on every entry point. No one enters this palace without being accounted for.”

“And the people?” someone asked. “What do we tell them?”

“Nothing yet,” Theron answered. “Until we know who’s on our side—and who isn’t.”

The council was dismissed, but unease clung to the air like smoke.

Back in her chambers, Serena removed her cloak and let it fall to the floor. She moved to the balcony, gazing over the moonlit city. Somewhere in that darkness, enemies waited.

Theron joined her a moment later. He placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed small circles into her skin.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

“No.” She turned to face him. “I thought the hardest part was over. But it’s not, is it?”

He shook his head. “You were never meant for a quiet story, Serena.”

Her laugh was dry and brittle. “Don’t I know it.”

They stood in silence for a while, the sounds of the city distant and muffled.

“We need to strike first,” she said finally. “Before they hit us again.”

Theron’s eyes darkened. “You want to bait them?”

“I want to flush them out.”

A knock interrupted them.

Elias stepped inside, a scrap of scorched paper in his hand. His face was pale.

“This was just found burned into the eastern watchtower wall,” he said, voice strained.

Serena took the paper and read the message.

“The Queen bleeds first.”

Her heart stopped.

“They’re watching us closer than we thought,” Elias said. “Maybe from inside the palace itself.”

Theron growled low in his throat. “Then we start from the inside.”

“No,” Serena said. “We don’t just play defense. We go on the offensive.”

She moved to her wardrobe and pulled out a traveling cloak—dark, woven with midnight threads and lunar charms.

“You’re not seriously thinking of leaving the palace,” Elias said.

“I’m not hiding behind stone walls while someone plots my murder,” Serena said, strapping a blade to her thigh. “I want to know who’s feeding the Forsaken. And I have a feeling they’re closer than we think.”

Theron’s voice dropped. “You’re not going without me.”

“Of course not,” she said, reaching for his hand.

Their bond pulsed warmly, a shimmer of light in the encroaching dark.

This wasn’t just survival anymore.

This was war.

And Serena wasn’t going to wait for the first blow.

She would deliver it herself.