Pain throbbed in Selene's skull. Her eyelids became heavy, but she opened them and froze at the view that met her.
A man stood watching her, arms folded over his broad torso. However blurred her vision, she could not possibly miss striking features: sharp jawline, intense dark eyes, and a scar curving along his neck. Something about his presence made her wolf want to go up...
Her wolf. Where is her wolf?
"Finally, you wake up, my princess?" His voice was battered, just about funny. "That dress is beautiful, or at least half of it."
Selene shot up, ignoring the wave of dizziness. "Get back!"
"Or what? You will tumble at me?" His eyes flickered to her hurt ankle. "You can hardly stand."
Still, she pushed herself up, gritting her teeth against the ache. Fight or flight instincts screamed for her to run, yet her legs betrayed her, buckling as soon as she attempted to put weight on them. The man was supernatural in speed when he snatched her out of the fall.
“Little stubborn wolf aren't you?"
"Don't touch me!" Panic gushed through her chest as she struggled against him. "I told you not to-". Selena passed out again.
Two days later, Selene woke up again. The first face she saw in her post-coma was that of a stranger.-dark but watchful and measured-his eyes were studying her as if she were some puzzle he was trying to figure out. Her throb- bing head insisted she did try to focus her gaze on the stranger's face.
"Look who finally deigned to arise from the dead." His voice was silky sweet-like a sarcastic caress- "You were out from here for nearly two days."
Two days? She struggled to sit up, tilting precariously. Panic shot through her.
"Take it easy, girl," he said when he moved closer, and she slightly recoiled back. Understanding passed over his expression. "I'm not going to hurt you. If I wanted to, I wouldn't have spent the last forty-eight hours keeping you alive."
"Where am I?" Her voice came out raspy. "Who-"
"You're safe. That's all you need to know right now." He reached for a water glass on the bedside table.
Selene went straight into survival mode and bolted for the door, ignoring the screaming pain in her ankle. The stranger moved faster than she thought, blocking her escape.
"Does this kind of stubborn behavior run in your family, or is this just my lucky day?"
"Just step aside," she snarled, drawing her wolf strength to herself.
The color drained from her face.
"She's gone," Selene whispered. "I can't feel her. Why can't I feel her?"
Something shifted in the stranger's expression - pity maybe, or recognition. "Sit down before you fall down. Please."
That gentle 'please' undid her. Her legs gave out, and he caught her before she hit the floor. This time, she was too shocked to fight him.
"I'm Rowan," he said quietly, helping her back to the bed. "And you're safer not shifting right now anyway. Those rogues are still out there."
Then all the events of the night came rushing back: the ceremony, the betrayal by Caden, the attack. A choked sound escaped her throat.
"Ah hell, don't cry," Rowan said, running a hand through his hair and looking uncomfortable. "Agnes! She's awake and she's... leaking.”
"For heaven's sake, boy, some sensitivity." An aged woman came into the room, silver braids swinging while she shooed Rowan aside. She sat by Selene, taking her trembling hands. "There now, child. Let it out. You should be crying instead of burning in fury at this time when your wolf is so frail."
"I can't understand," she was saying, her voice cracking, "what's happening to me?"
"Rejection trauma," Agnes simply said. "Your wolf stopped protecting both of you, and she will return when ready again."
"Ready for what?"
"To accept that sometimes the first step to finding something greater is that you lose everything..." Her eyes caught the brief gaze of Rowan.
"Very profound," muttered Rowan, but somehow there was respect in his tone. He went up the window all of a sudden tensed. "We've got company. Three pack patrols, just crossed into the valley."
"Looking for me?" asked Selene.
"Well, unless there's another runaway wolf I should know about in a shredded ceremony dress, then..."
Perhaps miraculously, Selene felt a hysterical laugh rising within her. "You are something of a jerk, you know that?"
"So I've been told." His lip quirked. "Repeatedly."
"Both of you, quiet." Agnes suddenly stood up, her face grave. "Something is wrong. The wind has changed."
They fell into hush, listening. In the distance, howls turned high-not the organized sounds of patrol but the savage cries of rogues.
"They're being herded," Rowan growled. "The patrols aren't hunting her. They're being hunted."
"The rogues," Selene struggled to get to her feet. "They're going to be slaughtered-"
"Not your problem." Rowan's hand on her shoulder pressed her back down. "You can hardly walk, never mind fight."
"They're my pack!"
"The same pack that stood and watched you as they humiliated you?" His words cut like physical blows. "The same pack that allowed you to run through the woods on your own?”
"Rowan," Agnes grumbled warningly, previously dashing away in attack mode.
"You don't know anything about me or my pack!" Her finger jabbed his chest. "You don't know what I've lost!"
"Don't I?" His eyes flared with something ancient and painful. “Were you under the illusion that only you were ever betrayed by those in whom you had placed trust?”
The howls grew closer. Agnes grabbed both their arms.
"Children," her voice held power that made them both freeze. "We have exactly three minutes before this cabin is overrun. So unless you'd both like to die arguing, I suggest we move. Now."
Thunder cracked overhead as they stared at each other, neither backing down. In the distance, something screamed - a sound no natural wolf could make.
"Fine," Rowan broke first. "And when this goes bad - and it will - remember I told you so."
Selene lifted her chin. "I'll add it to the list of things I'm not going to thank you for."
For the first time, a real smile crossed his face. "I think I'm starting to see why your wolf needed a break from you."
Selene shot him a dreadful look. "I'll add it to the list of things I'm not going to thank you for."
Agnes threw up her hands. "Moon goddess, save me from stubborn pups. Now move!”
The new world trembled beneath the weight of falling stars, each one a pinprick of light that burned out as it struck the ground, leaving scorch marks that pulsed with the same white light as the fracture splitting the earth. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and something older—something that tasted of time unraveling. The white fracture glowed, not with warmth or hunger, but with a cold, relentless clarity, as if it saw through every choice they’d made, every scar they bore. The voice that had called them Guardians lingered, its final warning, the night is coming echoing in their minds like a bell that wouldn’t stop ringing.Rowan stood at the edge of the fracture, his blade drawn, its silver light dim against the white glow. His eyes traced the falling stars, each one a reminder that their victory over the Want was fleeting, a breath before the next storm. “This isn’t over,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “Whatever’s coming, it’s bigger than the Want.”Selene
The world hummed with Agnes’s sacrifice, its golden light now steady but threaded with a quiet sorrow. The horizon glowed, a promise of stability, yet the whisper’s echo lingered, a faint pulse beneath the song of their hearts, reminding them that their victory was not absolute. The ground beneath Rowan, Aelira, Selene, and Elyra was solid, its stone warm with the life they’d fought to preserve, but it felt incomplete without Agnes’s steady presence. The air carried her essence, her wisdom woven into the breeze, her resolve in the earth but it wasn’t enough to dull the ache of her absence.Rowan stood at the edge of the new world’s first hill, his blade sheathed but his hand never far from its hilt. His eyes scanned the horizon, where the gold light met a faint shimmer of shadow—not the unmaking, not the Keeper, but something new, something that knew their names and waited with infinite patience. “She gave everything for this,” he said, his voice low, rough with grief. “We won't let
The new world was alive, its pulse a quiet hum beneath their feet, as if the stone itself breathed with their victory. The horizon stretched wide, a tapestry of silver and gold where the sky met earth in a soft glow, unbroken by storm or shadow. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of something green, something growing, as if creation itself were taking its first tentative steps. Yet the whisper lingered a soft, insidious thread woven into the song of their hearts, not loud enough to drown it out, but sharp enough to cut. It knew their names, and it was calling.Rowan stood at the edge of the group, his blade sheathed but his hand resting on its hilt, eyes scanning the horizon for a threat he couldn’t yet see. Selene and Elyra stood side by side, their scars glowing faintly in harmony, light and shadow balanced but wary. Aelira’s moonlight flickered, her exhaustion evident in the slump of her shoulders, but her gaze was fierce, locked on the distance where the whisper seemed to ris
The light didn’t fade, it burned, searing through the crucible of creation, through the endless expanse of thought and will. The golden thread was gone, snapped by their collective defiance, but its echo lingered in their veins, a pulse that matched the drumbeat now roaring within them. Rowan, Aelira, Agnes, Selene, and Elyra stood in a circle, their magics intertwined, their breaths synchronized, as the world around them reshaped itself. The ground was no longer thought but stone, jagged and warm, as if forged in the heart of a star. The sky was no longer will but a storm of gold and shadow, swirling with faces every choice they’d made, every life they’d touched, every world they’d refused to let die.The figure was gone, but its words remained: The unmaking is you, when you falter. And now, the drumbeat was no longer a threat from beyond it was their own hearts, their own doubts, their own choices echoing back. The crucible wasn’t just a place; it was a mirror, forcing them to fac
The white expanse stretched infinite, a void of light that felt neither empty nor full, but alive with possibility. The gold fracture pulsed before them, its warm light a stark contrast to the crimson and black that had nearly unmade them. It wasn’t a seam or a crack, it was a doorway, its edges soft and fluid, as if inviting them to step through. But the weight of the unmaking’s final words lingered: The unmaking waits. Rowan’s blade hung at his side, no longer glowing but steady in his grip, a reminder that trust was a luxury they couldn’t afford.Selene stood closest to the fracture, her moonlight aura dim but unwavering, her eyes locked on the golden light. Elyra mirrored her, scars faintly glowing, her presence a quiet strength beside her twin. Aelira’s magic flickered, exhausted but defiant, while Agnes clutched the shattered remnants of the pendant, her face etched with both awe and dread. The voice that had spoken earlier still echoed, warm and vast, but it carried a weight t
The Veil was no longer a bridge, it was a battlefield. The silver threads that had once held it together now frayed at the edges, snapping under the weight of the relentless drumbeat that shook the air. Each pulse was a wound, a reminder that the seam they’d closed was only the first tear in a tapestry unraveling faster than they could mend. The crimson light was gone, but something darker deeper replaced it, a void-black pulse that seemed to drink the light from Selene’s eyes, Elyra’s scars, and the pendant still glowing in Agnes’s hands.Rowan stood at the forefront, his blade a beacon of silver against the encroaching dark. Selene and Elyra flanked him, their combined presence of moonlight and shadow stabilizing the trembling threads, but only just. Aelira’s magic wove through theirs, a net of moonlight holding back the chaos, while Agnes’s chant grew hoarse, her voice fraying like the Veil itself. The drumbeat wasn’t just sound it was intent, a will that pressed against their mind