The moon was swollen in the sky, bloated and vengeful, casting a pale light across the fractured bones of the world I was beginning to mold in my mind. I didn’t look away from the window as the stars sharpened their edges above me like daggers dipped in cold fire. Somewhere in the distance, wolves howled—not in mourning, not in warning—but in some ancient rhythm only the damned could understand. Their cries curled around the stone of the castle, brushing against my skin like ghosts begging to be remembered. I pressed my palm to the glass, and for a moment, I didn’t feel like Selene, the silent queen. I felt like a prophecy uncoiling.I had no map. No oracle whispered in my ear. But my blood had begun to pulse with a direction it hadn’t dared to move in before. There was no single plan. Only a thousand possibilities, each more dangerous than the last, and I would walk every path until one of them ended with Sebastian choking on his own throne. The ring I had once placed on the windo
The moon hung low that night, bruised and veiled by clouds, as if the heavens themselves turned their face from what I was becoming. My fingers skimmed the cold stone of the corridor walls as I walked, not out of fear, but to ground myself in something real—something not wrapped in velvet lies or poisoned kisses. Each step echoed, soft and deliberate, but beneath my skin, my blood thundered. I no longer moved like prey. No, I moved like storm clouds creeping across a doomed sky. Quiet, yes—but only because I hadn’t started to roar. Not yet.I passed the guards without a word, without a glance. They stiffened, sensing something unfamiliar in my silence tonight. Maybe it was the way my shoulders squared like armor, or how my gown swayed not like silk but like battle flags in the wind. Or maybe they simply smelled the storm clinging to me, the metallic scent of resolve wrapped around my skin like a blade drawn too long. One tried to speak, his mouth parting as if to ask if I needed ass
The sky outside had surrendered to a heavy twilight, the kind that felt more like mourning than transition, casting long shadows that slithered across the palace walls like silent witnesses. I didn’t move from my place by the window. I stood there, arms crossed against my chest, the cold of the glass kissing my skin like a distant warning. Below, the courtyards were deserted, the guards fewer in number than usual, their posts changed without announcement. That subtle shift told me something I didn’t need spoken aloud—Sebastian was preparing for something.Perhaps he thought the prophecy had cursed him, or perhaps he believed he could outrun the destiny that now hung over both our heads like a blade suspended by a single, fraying thread. Either way, the tides had turned, and he felt it just as surely as I did. The silence between us wasn’t peace—it was the pause before an eruption.I turned away from the window at last, letting the heavy curtain fall back into place, shielding the w
The fire had long since died by the time morning bled through the high windows, but the scent of char still lingered, clinging to the tapestries and drifting through the stone corridors like the ghosts of the past I’d tried to burn away. That ruby rose—the symbol of a promise never kept, of a love that was never truly given—had turned to molten nothing in the hearth, and yet, in my chest, its memory pulsed like a phantom limb. I had stared into the flames for hours, watching them consume something precious with the same hunger that had once devoured my trust. The silence that followed was deafening. It wrapped around me like a mourning shroud, thick and suffocating, but strangely comforting. In the quiet, I didn’t have to lie. I didn’t have to smile. I didn’t have to pretend I wasn’t crumbling beneath the weight of a crown forged from cruelty and silence.I didn’t sleep—not in the way normal people did. My body rested, but my soul remained restless, pacing within me like a cag
The morning light spilled across the cold marble floor like spilled wine—golden, deceptive, and hollow in its warmth. I stood by the window, not for comfort, but to watch the world I no longer belonged to. The gardens outside looked peaceful, like a painting sealed in glass. But I knew better. Peace didn’t live here. Not within these stone walls that had soaked in more blood than sunlight.My fingers pressed against the glass, longing to pass through it, to escape this illusion and become someone else—someone who wasn’t haunted by the scent of him, by the ghost of a voice I no longer had, or the weight of a crown I never wanted.But chains wrapped tighter than dreams, and when I turned away, I didn’t look back. Dreams were traps, not freedom.I didn’t dress for him. The gown I chose was armor disguised as silk—sharp-shouldered, blacker than the void he carved inside me. My hair twisted into a crown of thorns, not for beauty but defiance. Every pin stabbed into my scalp like tiny n
I didn’t sleep.Even as dawn broke through the heavy velvet curtains like a thief, pale gold light spilling over the cold stone floors, I remained where I’d been for hours—sitting with my back to the wall, knees drawn to my chest, eyes wide open. My bones ached, but I didn’t care. Pain was familiar. It was safer than sleep. Sleep meant surrendering to dreams, and my dreams had long stopped offering comfort. These days, they were plagued with images I couldn't erase—of burning walls, blood-drenched roses, the weight of Sebastian's body above mine, his scent clinging to my skin like a brand. And worst of all, the silence.Not mine. His.That terrifying, calm silence he carried like a crown. Sleep could wait. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down, not now, not ever again.The engagement ring sat a few inches from my bare feet—small, glittering, mocking. At some point during the night, I had yanked it off my finger, not out of anger or despair, but because it felt like it was leechi