Seven

The silence that followed Kael’s declaration stretched until it became something alive.

The wind stirred the fallen autumn leaves, carrying with it the sharp scent of smoke and disbelief. Then, as if released from an enchantment, the crowd began to murmur — first in small, disbelieving whispers, and then in full, fevered voices.

“She really—”

“—is chosen by him?”

“Are both of them insane or blessed?”

The pack rippled with confusion. Some wolves dropped to one knee out of instinctive submission; others turned away, muttering prayers to the Moon as though to cleanse their ears of blasphemy.

And still, Seren stood there — chin high, the faint metallic taste of defiance lingering on her tongue.

Lord Nightwind was the first to move. His boots crunched over pine needles as he approached, his expression torn between awe and naked ambition. When he reached Kael and Seren, he bowed low, though there was nothing humble about it. His bow was a performance — a silent declaration to the watching wolves.

“My Alpha,” he said smoothly, his voice oily with satisfaction. “The Nightwind name is honored beyond measure. You have shown extraordinary discernment tonight.”

Seren nearly choked on a laugh. Discernment? She’d call it divine chaos. But Lord Nightwind had a proud, wide smile on his face, like a man who had just stumbled into the center of a prophecy.

Kael regarded him with the cool stillness of a predator deciding whether the creature before him was prey or potential ally. His molten eyes flicked toward Seren, then back to her father.

“Your daughter,” he said, his voice soft and dangerous, “has potential.”

Lord Nightwind’s smile sharpened. “She is her father’s blood.”

Seren bit her tongue before something cutting escaped. If only that were a compliment.

The crowd had begun to thin now, the wolves dispersing reluctantly under Kael’s dominance. Some lingered, eyes full of curiosity, fear, or hate. The priestess stood like a statue, her pale eyes following Seren with something unreadable — fear, maybe. Or hatred.

And behind her, half-hidden in the shadows, Nova knelt in the dirt.

Her sobs — ragged, choking, miserable sounds that scraped raw against the night — broke through the murmurs. No one dared comfort her. No one dared look too long. The chosen child of the Moon had been rejected, her glow extinguished.

Seren turned her head away. It should have been satisfying — seeing the heroine’s downfall — but something in her chest twisted painfully. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was recognition.

Maybe it was pity.

The System hummed like a serpent coiled behind her thoughts.

[Reminder: Villainesses do not pity heroines.]

Bite me, she shot back silently.

By the time the pack finally scattered, the fires had burned down to embers. The priestess knelt beside Nova, pulling her trembling form into her arms. The clearing was nearly empty, save for the two of them — the Moon’s cold light painting their faces in ghostly silver.

“Mother…” Nova’s voice cracked, barely a whisper.

“Shh.” The priestess’s hands trembled as she stroked her daughter’s hair, her eyes flashing with both fury and despair. “We will not speak that word here — not where ears may hear.”

Nova’s tears soaked through the priestess’s robes. “You promised! You said the Goddess herself had chosen me!”

“She did,” the priestess hissed, eyes glinting. “But the Alpha defied the divine. Do you not see? This is blasphemy. The Goddess will not let it stand.”

The priestess’s eyes flashed as she held Nova tighter. She knew the Goddess would let it stand — because everything that had happened tonight was orchestrated by her, not the divine.

This was retaliation. The divine bitch was supposed to be at her weakest tonight; that was why Katya had chosen this night for her manipulative ritual on the Alpha’s bloodline. Who could have predicted that the Goddess would suddenly overshadow her spell — and choose a mate herself?

Nova’s sobbing quieted, but the sound curdled into something darker. “Then we make her pay,” she whispered. “That witch. That usurper.”

The priestess pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We will, child. Your mother’s wrath is patient — but it burns. I’ll let it hurt while it does. Come now, child, let’s head home.”

The priestess, Katya Burndel, helped her daughter, Nova Burndel, to her feet, and they vanished into the night.

Far from their whispered vengeance, at the forest’s edge, Kael and his Beta stood beneath the moonlight. Backs near the tree line, Kael turned toward his Beta — a tall, broad-shouldered wolf with storm-gray eyes and a scar running down one cheek. Rian Thornhall had been silent through most of the chaos, watching and calculating what could possibly be wrong with his Alpha’s head.

When they were finally alone enough to speak, Kael broke the silence. “Say it.”

Rian crossed his arms. “You’ve doomed yourself.”

Kael’s mouth curved slightly. “You disapprove.”

“I think you’ve been bewitched,” Rian said flatly. “The girl’s bold, I’ll give her that — but she’s also trouble. The pack fears her. Or rather, they abhor her. The priestess will rally them against her for sure. She seemed to strongly disapprove of your choice.”

Kael’s gaze didn’t waver. “Let her try. We’ve been on her tail for a long time, and I think you and I both know this night wasn’t as simple as it seemed. How is the wolf assigned to her?”

Rian’s jaw flexed. “He barely escaped with his life. The priestess placed a dark enchantment around her home, but he managed to see two wolves from Bane Pack with her.”

Kael’s gaze chilled. “So she’s even consorting with traitors now. Dangerous ground. How is he?”

“The team healer is tending to him as we speak. Aside from that,” Rian continued, “are you sure you made the right choice in your mate? What if the priestess’s daughter was really chosen by the Moon? It would be unwise to incur the Goddess’s wrath.”

Yes — the Alpha and Beta of Crescent Pack were aware of the relationship between the priestess and Nova, having had her under surveillance for a long time.

“The Moon doesn’t lead my wolf,” Kael said quietly. “And I’ve never felt an atom of affection for that girl, Nova. Suddenly she was glowing like a divine ornament tonight. I knew something was wrong.”

Rian shook his head, frustrated. “You’re right — something was wrong. But that girl, Seren Nightwind... she’s not a better option. She feels… off.”

Kael’s lips twitched. “She feels alive — and interesting. Nothing like the rumors.”

Rian scoffed, brow furrowing. “Alive? You mean dangerous.”

Kael didn’t answer. His gaze had drifted toward the dark road leading away from the clearing — the path that would take Seren home. His voice, when it came again, was low, threaded with something like fascination.

“She stood before the pack and didn’t cower. Not even I could silence her.”

Rian exhaled sharply. “And that excites you?”

Kael’s smile was a slow, feral thing. “It reminds me I’m still capable of overcoming a spell, even without a shred of magic.”

Rian grimaced. “You’re going to regret this.”

“Perhaps,” Kael murmured, turning toward the shadows. “But if she’s fire… I want to see how bright she burns.”

---

The carriage ride back to Nightwind Manor was a study in silence.

Lord Nightwind couldn’t stop glancing at his daughter — half pride, half disbelief, and all calculation. Seren, meanwhile, stared out the window at the rolling darkness, her reflection pale and sharp in the glass. Her mind buzzed with too many voices — the crowd, Kael, the System — until she wanted to scream just to drown them out.

At last, her father broke the quiet. “Three weeks,” he said softly. “That’s when they’ll hold the Luna Induction.”

Seren blinked, turning to him. “Luna… induction?”

“Of course.” His smile was thin. “You’re the Alpha’s choice now. Whether the priestess or the Moon like it or not, tradition demands a coronation. Three weeks to prepare — and three weeks to make the pack forget they ever doubted you.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “You make it sound easy.”

He turned glittering eyes toward her. “Nothing worth power is easy, Seren. You did tonight what I could not in a lifetime: you made the world look at you. Now you must make them kneel.”

Her stomach twisted. “You want them to kneel to me, or to you?”

“Does it matter?” he said, voice soft but dangerous. “The Nightwind name will rise again. That is all that matters.”

Seren looked back out the window. The moon’s reflection in the glass shimmered, split by the carriage’s motion.

“Three weeks,” she murmured. “Plenty of time for everything to go horribly wrong.”

The System’s glow flickered faintly in her mind.

[New Quest Incoming.]

Can’t I have five minutes of peace?

[Peace is for side characters.]

You’re hilarious.

When they reached Nightwind Manor, the few worn-out servants were waiting. Lord Nightwind swept through the door like a conquering hero, his coat snapping behind him, his voice booming for wine and celebration. Seren trailed after him, the adrenaline finally wearing thin, leaving behind exhaustion and a dull ache behind her eyes.

But her father was relentless.

He cornered her in the drawing room, his hand gripping the back of a chair as though it were a throne. “What did you say to him?” he demanded. “What did you do to make him choose you?”

Seren blinked, too tired for subtlety. “I existed.”

“Don’t play games with me,” he snapped. “You’ve always been clever, but this—this was different. He looked at you like…” His voice trailed off, uneasy. “Like he saw something the rest of us couldn’t.”

Seren sank onto the settee, resting her head in her hands. “Maybe he did. Maybe it’s the Goddess’s idea of a joke.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Do not mock what we depend upon.”

She lifted her head, meeting his gaze with a weary smile. “Then don’t depend on it.”

His nostrils flared, but he said nothing more. After a long moment, he turned sharply and stalked out, muttering orders to the servants about preparing his attire for the morning council. The heavy door shut behind him, leaving her alone in the quiet.

Finally.

Seren trudged up to her room, stripping off the tiara and letting it clatter onto the vanity. Her gown pooled around her feet like a wilted flower as she sank into bed, the moonlight spilling across the sheets.

Her body felt like a battlefield — heart bruised, nerves raw, lips still tingling from Kael’s kiss. Her thoughts tangled like threads pulled too tight.

The System’s glow pulsed faintly against her closed eyes.

[New Quest: Become the Perfect Luna Candidate.]

[Objective: Convince the pack you are worthy before the induction.]

[Reward: +20 Reputation, +10 Charisma.]

[Hidden Subtask: Destroy Nova’s credibility before the ceremony.]

[Failure Penalty: None.]

Seren groaned into her pillow. You want me to what? Destroy Nova? Haven’t I done enough?

[Villainesses finish what they start.]

You’re insane.

[Correction: I’m adaptive. You are improving.]

Improving? I basically declared war on a Goddess and half a pack by snatching their Alpha!

[Progress often begins with blasphemy.]

Seren sat up, running a hand through her hair, a laugh bubbling up somewhere between exhaustion and disbelief. “You’re not supposed to encourage me.”

[Encouragement is for heroines.]

She sighed, flopping back onto the bed. “Of course it is.”

The moon hung outside her window, unblinking. Seren stared up at it, her chest tight. “You’re watching, aren’t you?” she whispered. “Waiting to see how long I last.”

She tried not to think about the way Kael’s kiss still haunted her lips — the taste of fire and fate she hadn’t asked for. But even in the silence, it burned.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt the faintest pulse of divine amusement. Or maybe she was imagining it.

Either way, the world was spinning faster than ever, and she was no longer on the sidelines.

The villainess had taken center stage.

And the story — her story — was only beginning to bare its teeth.

She sighed wearily and drifted off to dreamland.