Selene
I’VE ALWAYS BEEN ORDINARY.
In a family of strong healers, being ordinary is an insult. A disappointment. I’m the one who couldn’t live up to expectations. The oldest daughter and yet so mediocre. My parents have never said so, but I can see it in their eyes, the letdown that I am. My siblings love me, but I have never been able to stand on par with them.
It hurts more than I can put into words.
So, when our alpha hauled my friend and me to this palace as scapegoats, I begged my parents not to try to defend me, knowing they would pay the price. At least my life would be worth something if I could save theirs. I remember my mother weeping as Daciana and I were dragged toward the portal.
I haven’t seen them since. Astra offered to invite them to the capital, but all I’ve done is send letters in which I keep reassuring them how happy and settled I am here. I have not gone to visit them because I know they will see the misery that is etched deep within me and realize something is wrong. They think I’m living an amazing life here at the palace, working as a royal healer. Of course, it was my loyalty to Astra that got me my position.
My feet pound the forest floor, branches tearing my clothes and getting caught in my hair. I can’t see through the tears streaming down my face, can’t breathe past the sobs that keep ripping from my throat. My wolf is howling, a broken sound that echoes through my mind, through my very bones.
“Too weak. Too inadequate.”
Seth’s words chase me through the darkness like predators. Each one finds its mark, embedding deeper with each lurching step.
“Weak men for a weak woman. At least you know your place.”
I crash through another thicket, thorns scratching my skin, drawing blood I can’t even feel. Nothing hurts worse than the ache in my chest. My heart feels like it’s been torn in half and set on fire.
My legs give out near a stream, and I collapse to my knees in the soft earth beside the water. The celebration continues in the distance, music drifting on the night air like it’s mocking me. No one is following me. Nobody will come looking for me. They probably haven’t even noticed I left.
Seth certainly won’t check on me. Not after what he said. Not the way he thinks of me.
I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to stop the tears, but they keep coming. My wolf whimpers, curled up small and wounded inside me, and I understand exactly how she feels.
“Why?” I whisper to the darkness, to the moon, to whatever cruel fate decided this was my destiny. “Why give me to someone who hates me?”
Astra had no wolf for most of her life. No wolf at all! And Lucian still claimed her, still loved her, still chose her above everything else. But me? I have a wolf—weak as she may be—but my own mate thinks I’m not worth his time.
He has made it clear in multiple ways, even in public. Three months ago, when there was an attack on a pack near the eastern border by the faction of the Umbra Council that is determined to retain purity, some of the royal healers were sent to help. I was included in that team. Our leader, the healer in charge, told me to tend to Seth. But when I approached him, he looked at me with those cold, green eyes and demanded someone else. Humiliation burned through me as I backed away, the other healers watching, several soldiers witnessing my rejection. They didn’t know why he’d dismissed me so harshly, but the shame of it followed me for weeks.
That was the moment I knew for certain that we would never be together.
I’ve spent the past three months trying to move on. Trying to convince myself it doesn’t matter. That I can find happiness elsewhere, with someone who actually wants me around.
Tonight was supposed to be about that. About living my life instead of waiting for a man who will never claim me.
Darren was sweet. A little clumsy, sure, but he made me laugh. He looked at me like I was worth looking at. When he asked me to dance, and then when he suggested we get some air away from the crowd, I said yes. I was ready to say yes.
I thought that maybe if I were with someone else—anyone else—I could forget about Seth for a while. Could pretend the mate bond didn’t exist.
But then, he appeared like some avenging demon, throwing poor Darren into the bushes like he was nothing. The fury in Seth’s eyes, the possessiveness in the way he grabbed me…For one stupid, hopeful moment, I thought maybe he’d finally realized what we could be.
I was so wrong.
“If you want to whore yourself out, Selene, then do it.”
The words echo in my mind, and I double over, another sob tearing out of my chest. How could he say that to me? How could he be so cruel?
I’ve seen him with other women—how his eyes light up when they approach, how he laughs and flirts and becomes the sweetest man in the world. He’s charming, warm, everything I wish he could be with me. But when he looks at me, all I see is coldness. Disappointment. Disgust.
I’ve always been quiet, never one to raise a fuss or demand attention. When I first realized Seth was my fated mate, I was so happy. Terrified, but happy. I thought maybe fate had finally given me something good, someone who would see past my weaknesses and love me anyway.
But then I noticed how he avoided me. How he would cross to the other side of a room when I entered. How he would cut conversations short if I approached. At first, I was confused, then hurt. Slowly, the awful truth began to dawn on me.
He wasn’t happy with our bond.
I kept waiting for him to reject me properly, to make it official so I could try to move on. But he never did. He just ignored me. Like I was a problem he hoped would disappear if he pretended it didn’t exist.
Maybe that’s why I finally snapped tonight. Why I threw his reputation back in his face, called him a man whore. I wanted to hurt him the way he was hurting me. I wanted him to feel even a fraction of the pain I’ve been carrying for months.
“I don’t want you, Seth.”
The lie had felt foreign on my tongue, but I said it anyway. Because if he could reject me, if he could make it clear that I meant nothing to him, then I could lie and pretend he meant nothing to me, too.
Except he does. He means everything.
Even after what he said tonight, even after he kissed me like I was precious and then threw it back in my face like it was meaningless, I still want him. The mate bond still pulls at me, still made my heart race when he was near.
And that makes it so much worse.
I splash some water on my face. My reflection wavers in the dark stream—hair a mess, makeup smeared, dress torn. I look exactly like what Seth thinks I am: weak. Inadequate. Less than.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am all those things.
My wolf stirs, pressing against my consciousness, but even she feels broken, whimpering softly in the depths of my mind. She has been wounded by his rejection just as much as I have, maybe more. There’s a despondence to her that I can’t shake off. But there’s nothing I can do; it’s out of my hands. Weakness isn’t something I wanted. Even my healing skills are subpar. Everything about me is. I’d imagined my fated mate would see past that, to the person I am, but I guess I was wrong.
I wrap my arms around myself and settle against a tree, not ready to go back and have everyone see me looking like such a mess. The celebration will end soon. People will go home, return to their lives, forget this night ever happened.
But I’ll remember. I’ll remember the way my mate kissed me like he loved me and then destroyed me like I was nothing.
And tomorrow, I’ll have to see him again. Pretend this never happened. Pretend my heart isn’t shattered beyond repair.
As I sit by the stream, my tears finally dry, my body numb and aimless, I realize the noise from the festivities has grown softer. I must have been here longer than I thought—long enough for my clothes to grow damp from the night air, for the ache in my chest to settle into a hollow emptiness.
I should probably head back. Face whatever remains of the celebration, pretend nothing happened, smile and nod when people ask where I’ve been. I push myself to my feet, brushing dirt and leaves from my ruined dress.
That’s when I notice a metallic scent drifting through the night air. Blood. Fresh and heavy, carried on the wind from somewhere deeper in the forest.
My head snaps up, senses suddenly alert. Then, I hear it: a weak, desperate cry echoing through the trees.
“Help…please…”
My body moves before my mind can catch up. Every instinct I have as a healer urges me to respond, to find whoever is hurt. I stumble forward, my torn dress catching on branches as I follow the scent of blood farther into the woods.
The smell grows stronger with each step, but something else accompanies it now: a strange, unnatural mist that seems to glow faintly red in the moonlight. It clings low to the ground, swirling around my ankles like living smoke. My vision blurs as I breathe it in, making me dizzy and disoriented.
“Help me…” The voice comes again, weaker this time, more desperate.
I push forward despite the growing fog, my healing nature overriding any concern for my own safety. Someone is dying out here, and I can’t ignore their call. Whatever this mist is, whatever danger may be lurking in these shadows, it doesn’t matter. Someone needs me.
The metallic tang of blood becomes overwhelming as I stumble through the red haze, my hands stretched out in front of me to avoid walking into a tree. My wolf, who has been whimpering and broken since Seth’s rejection, suddenly stirs with an energy I don’t understand. She’s…excited? Alert in a way she hasn’t been all night.
I don’t have time to analyze her strange behavior. The scent of blood is so strong now that I know I’m close.
“Where are you?” I call out, my voice hoarse from crying.
A barely audible groan drifts from somewhere in front of me. Following the sound, I push through a cluster of low-hanging branches and nearly trip over the source.
A man lies crumpled against the base of a massive oak, his body twisted at unnatural angles. Even through the swirling, red mist, I can see the expensive quality of his clothing—fine fabrics and intricate embroidery that mark him as nobility. But his attire is ruined now, torn and soaked with blood that looks black in the strange, dim light.
I drop to my knees beside him, my hands immediately moving to assess his injuries. Multiple deep gashes across his chest and abdomen, a head wound that is bleeding freely, and from the quality of his breathing—shallow and labored—I suspect internal damage, as well.
“I’m here,” I whisper, pressing my hands to the worst of the bleeding. “I’m a healer. I’m going to help you.”
The moment my skin makes contact with his, electricity shoots through me. Not the warm, familiar sensation of my healing magic—this is something else entirely. Something that makes my wolf suddenly howl with recognition and longing.
Even though he’s covered in blood and dirt, there’s something about this man that steals my breath. Dark hair falls across his forehead, and I can make out strong features beneath the blood and grime.
My wolf is going wild inside my mind, pressing against my consciousness with a strange excitement that I don’t understand.
The injured stranger makes a soft sound. His eyes flutter but don’t quite open, his breathing ragged and weak now. He is barely conscious, his body trembling from the pain and blood loss.
“You’re going to be okay,” I tell him, though I’m not sure he can even hear me. “I won’t let you die.”
My hands glow with healing light as I channel my magic into him. The power flows unsteadily, flickering as I struggle to maintain control. The wounds begin to close gradually under my touch, the bleeding slowing, but it’s harder for me than it should be. My magic vacillates, requiring constant effort to keep it steady.
The man’s breaths remain shallow, his eyes still closed, completely unaware of what’s happening. The red mist swirls thicker around us, and I realize he probably can’t even see it in his current state. Whatever this strange haze is, I seem to be the only one affected by it.
I can feel my energy draining away like water through my fingers. My magic fluctuates more violently now, each pulse of healing light requiring enormous effort to sustain.
I push harder, forcing myself beyond my usual limits, determined to save this man even if it costs me everything I have left. My head swims from the strain, sweat beading on my forehead despite the cool night air.
Finally, my magic sputters and dies completely. I collapse forward, my hands still pressed against the stranger’s chest, gasping for breath as exhaustion crashes over me like a wave. I have nothing left to give.
For a terrifying moment, I think I’ve failed. But then, I press my ear to his chest, and I hear a steady, strong heartbeat. His breathing evens out, no longer the labored, desperate gasps from before. The worst of his wounds have closed, but he’ll need proper medical attention soon.
He’ll survive. That’s what matters.
I sit back on my heels, trembling from exhaustion and the aftereffects of draining my magic so completely. It takes several minutes before I trust myself to stand up without collapsing again.
Slowly, shakily, I struggle to my feet. I can’t leave this man here unconscious and vulnerable, I decide. Whatever attacked him might return.
With great difficulty, I manage to get his arm around my neck and haul him upright. He’s dead weight against me, much heavier than I anticipated—all solid muscle and bone that threaten to drag me back down to the forest floor. I grit my teeth and try to find my footing, my legs already quivering from magical exhaustion.
The first few steps are the worst. I stagger, nearly dropping him twice as I struggle to find a rhythm that works. His feet drag uselessly through the vegetation, catching on roots and fallen branches that I have to navigate around. Every few yards, I’m forced to stop and readjust his weight, my arms burning from the effort of keeping him vertical.
The red mist swirls around us as we move, making it even harder to see where I’m going. I have to feel my way forward with my free hand, using tree trunks as guides while trying not to let branches snag his torn clothing or scrape across his healing wounds.
My breathing comes in harsh gasps, sweat mixing with the tears I didn’t realize had started falling again. The palace feels impossibly far away, though I can hear the faint sound of music drifting through the trees. Each note seems to mock me—there they are, dancing and laughing, while I’m out here struggling to save a stranger’s life.
I push forward, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Left foot, drag him forward, right foot, adjust his body, repeat.
We’re halfway back when my legs give out entirely. I sink to my knees, his weight pulling me down, and for a moment, I simply kneel there in the dirt, sobbing with exhaustion and frustration.
“I can’t,” I whisper to no one. “I can’t do this.”
But even as I say it, I know I have to. I can’t abandon him here. He needs proper medical attention. He needs to be somewhere safe where whatever or whoever attacked him can’t find him again.
With a determination I didn’t know I possessed, I struggle back to my feet, yanking his unconscious form up with me. We’re almost there. Just a little further.
The music grows louder as we make our way through the woods, back toward the safety of the palace grounds. The lights of the celebration finally come into view through the trees, warm and welcoming after the nightmare of the forest. But my relief is short-lived; my body is growing heavier with each step, my muscles screaming in protest. The injured man’s dead weight seems to have doubled, and I can barely keep us both upright.
“Help!” I call out hoarsely as we reach the edge of the festivities. My voice cracks and barely carries over the music and laughter. “Please, someone help!”
But the party continues around us, oblivious to our struggle. The guests are too caught up in their dancing and drinking to notice a mud-stained, exhausted healer stumbling out of the woods with an unconscious stranger.
“Help us!” I try again, desperation making my voice shriller. A few people glance in our direction, but their faces show only confusion, not understanding.
The man’s weight becomes unbearable, and my legs begin to give out completely once more. I stagger forward, trying to reach the nearest group of people, but my vision starts to blur at the edges again.
I can hear voices now—people finally noticing something is wrong. Shouts of alarm, the scrape of chairs being pushed back, footsteps running toward us. But it’s too late.
My knees buckle. The world tilts sideways as I lose my grip on the injured man, and he crashes to the ground. My vision obscures, darkness creeping in from all sides like the red mist in the forest.
Through the haze, I think I hear someone shouting my name. The voice is familiar, desperate, frightened in a way that cuts through my fading consciousness.
“Selene!”
I try to focus, to see who’s calling out to me, and for just a few seconds, the darkness recedes enough for me to make out a face. Green eyes wide with panic, dark hair falling across a forehead creased with worry and fear.
Seth.
He’s running toward me, his face a mask of fright I’ve never seen on him before. For one impossible moment, he looks like a man who’s about to lose something important to him.
But that can’t be right. He doesn’t want me. He made that clear.
The thought follows me into the darkness as the world finally turns black. Seth’s panicked expression is the last thing I see before I fall, unconsciousness claiming me fully.
I AWAKEN to the soft rustle of fabric and the familiar scent of lavender that always clings to the infirmary wing. My eyes flutter open, adjusting to the pale morning light filtering through the tall windows.
Daciana is sleeping in the chair beside my bed, her dark hair obscuring her face, her head tilted at an uncomfortable angle. The sight of her makes my heart clench with affection; she must have been here all night watching over me.
Everything feels hazy, like I’m swimming up from the depths of a deep lake, until I try to sit up and my body protests with aching muscles and bone-deep exhaustion. The small movement is enough to wake Daciana.
“Selene?” she says, stirring and immediately sitting up straighter. She looks at me with concern flooding her features as she leans forward. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper, though my voice comes out hoarse and scratchy.
“Thank the moon,” she breathes, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “You’ve been unconscious for hours. What happened? I heard Seth shouting your name, and when I turned around, I saw you collapsing. Seth caught you just before you hit the ground.”
The memories come flooding back—the forest, the blood, the injured man, my magic failing. I blink, processing her words slowly. “Are you sure it was Seth who caught me?”
Daciana frowns, tilting her head. “Yes, of course I’m sure. Why would you ask that?” She studies my face with growing concern. “Selene, what were you doing out in the woods?”
The memory of my confrontation with Seth makes my stomach clench. I can’t tell Daciana about that. I can’t tell anyone.
“I was just…wandering around,” I say weakly. “Needed some air.” Daciana looks like she wants to press further, but before she can, I ask, “What about the man? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” she says. “Recovering in the room down the hall. He claims he was attacked by three shifters who came out of nowhere.”
Before I can ask anything further about him, the curtain around my bed parts with a soft swoosh, and Seth steps through.
I look at him, bracing myself for the familiar pull, for the way my wolf always stirs when he’s near, for the painful longing that has been my constant companion for months.
Nothing.
My wolf remains calm, almost indifferent to his presence. The mate bond that has been a constant ache in my chest, a fire in my blood, feels quiet. Muted. Like it has been wrapped in cotton and shoved into a distant corner of my mind.
Relief floods through me so powerfully that tears fill my eyes. I press my fingers against them, letting out a ragged laugh that sounds half-hysterical even to my own ears.
“Selene?” Daciana’s voice is sharp with alarm. “Are you okay?”
I lower my hands and smile—really smile—for the first time in months. “Yes,” I say, and my voice is stronger now, clearer.
I don’t know how this has happened, and honestly, I don’t care. All I know is that I’m free. Free from the constant ache of wanting someone who doesn’t want me back. Free from the humiliation of being rejected by my own mate.
Now I just need to make sure I stay away from the man in the forest, whoever he is, and whatever that strange connection was. I won’t give anyone else the opportunity to hurt me the way Seth did.
“Do you need something?” I ask Seth, my tone polite but distant.
He’s standing at the foot of my bed, and something about my calm demeanor seems to unsettle him. His green eyes narrow slightly as he studies my face, searching for something he’s clearly not finding.
“I have questions about the incident,” he says finally, his voice carefully controlled.
“Okay.”
The simple response makes him frown. I can see him trying to read my expression, trying to understand why I’m not reacting to him the way I usually do. There’s no breathless quality to my voice, no racing heartbeat he can hear with his enhanced senses, no scent change that would betray my body’s usual traitorous response to his presence.
“Where exactly did you find him?” Seth asks.
“Deep in the forest, maybe a mile past the old oak grove. He was unconscious, bleeding heavily from multiple wounds.”
“What else did you see? Any signs of his attackers? Strange scents? Anything unusual?”
I think about the red mist, but something makes me hesitate. Did I imagine it? It seemed so real at the time, swirling around us, but maybe it was just some kind of hallucination brought on by stress and exhaustion.
“Nothing,” I say. “Just him, injured and alone.”
“The wounds,” he presses. “What did they look like? Claw marks? Bite marks?”
“Claw marks, mostly. Deep ones. Whatever attacked him wasn’t human.” I meet his gaze steadily.
Seth’s frown deepens. My calm, straightforward answers are clearly not what he expected. I can see the confusion in his expression, the way he keeps studying my face as if he’s looking at a stranger.
As our eyes meet, I want to smile. A burden has been removed from my heart, and I can finally breathe again.