Chapter 132: What the Moon Conceals

Selene stood frozen, staring at Lyra as her words echoed like a war drum in her skull.

“She’s after your child.”

Every sound in the forest fell away. Even the wind stilled, as if the trees themselves were waiting to hear what Selene would say.

“I’m not—” Selene started, but her voice trembled. “That’s not possible.”

Elias moved to her side, his brows knit. “Selene…”

“No,” she said quickly, her voice rising with panic. “I would know. I’d feel something. Wouldn’t I?”

Lyra looked pained. “You’ve been under too much stress. Your body’s shifting, your power is evolving… it could mask early signs. And Lilith said—she said the mark was reacting to more than just you.”

Selene's hand flew to her chest, where Elias's mating mark burned faintly beneath her skin. It had been pulsing on and off for days now, but she’d thought it was the magic… or the Blood Moon. Not this.

Elias reached out and took her hand gently. “We’ll find out. Together. But whatever it is, no one—no one—will take it from you.”

Selene’s breath hitched, her body trembling, not from fear… but from the overwhelming weight of everything. The prophecy. The gate. Lilith. Theron. And now this—a possible child, tied to a destiny she never asked for.

“I need answers,” she whispered.

“And you’ll get them,” Elias said firmly. “But first, we need to get out of this forest. We’re exposed.”

“I know a place,” Lyra said, wincing as she stood on shaky legs. “An old Moonwatcher safehouse in the cliffs near Hollow Ridge. Abandoned years ago. It won’t be tracked.”

Selene hesitated. Hollow Ridge was a forbidden place—steeped in forgotten rites and ancient bones. But they had no other option. The palace would be watching. The enemy would be closing in. And the council wouldn’t hesitate to lock Lyra away the moment they saw her.

“Then that’s where we go,” Selene said, nodding. “Now.”

The journey to the ridge was brutal. The Blood Moon cast unnatural light over the path, making everything feel twisted, warped, alive. Lyra rode behind Elias on his black wolf form, barely clinging on. Selene followed on foot, her power humming dangerously beneath her skin the entire way. It wasn’t just fatigue—it was pressure. Like the magic in the air was pulling her toward something.

When they finally reached the cliffs, the safehouse was hidden behind a thick wall of ivy and stone. Carved runes flared faintly as Elias touched the lock. It groaned open, revealing a dusty interior filled with silence, shadows, and relics of long-forgotten warriors.

Selene lit the old oil lamp in the corner, casting flickers of golden light across the cracked stone walls.

Lyra collapsed on the floor beside a torn fur pelt and exhaled shakily. “This place still smells like death,” she muttered.

Elias inspected the windows, muttering ancient words of warding. “It’ll hold.”

Selene moved to a dusty basin in the corner and dipped her hands into cool water. She looked at her reflection in the cracked mirror and barely recognized herself—eyes rimmed with exhaustion, lips pale, power flickering across her skin like distant lightning.

And something else.

A glow. Faint. Beneath the surface of her stomach.

She blinked. It was gone.

“Selene.” Elias stood behind her, his reflection appearing beside hers in the mirror. “You need to rest.”

“I need the truth.”

He nodded. “Then let’s find it.”

He held out his palm, and when she placed hers on top, their marks glowed—gold and red intertwining like living threads. His warmth flooded into her, anchoring her.

“Breathe,” he whispered.

She did. And slowly, carefully, Elias reached into the bond between them—into the soul-deep link only true mates shared.

At first, there was nothing.

Then—

A flicker.

A second heartbeat.

Selene gasped, stumbling back.

“It’s… true,” she whispered, clutching her middle.

Elias was still, staring at her as if the world had shifted beneath him. Then he crossed the distance between them and dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead gently against her stomach.

“Our child,” he murmured. “You’re carrying our child.”

Tears welled in her eyes—not from fear, but something deeper. Joy. Terror. Awe. She touched his head, her fingers threading through his hair.

“Elias…”

But their moment shattered with a howl in the distance.

A dark, guttural cry.

Followed by three more.

Lyra sat up sharply, all exhaustion gone. “They’ve found us.”

Elias was already up, eyes glowing, claws lengthening. “Selene, stay behind me.”

“No,” Selene said, power surging around her like a storm. “They want me? Then let them come.”

The runes on the walls flared to life as three shadows slammed into the outer barrier. Magic clashed with claws, sending up sparks. The air turned thick with the scent of sulfur and rage.

Lyra limped to the side, grabbing an old blade from the wall. “These aren’t rogues,” she warned. “They’re shadowborn.”

Selene’s power expanded.

The unborn child inside her pulsed with ancient light.

And the moon above bled brighter.