The room was colder after Kael's gaze left it. Even after he told me to leave, I felt the weight of his suspicion dragging behind me like chains. Dax's words echoed louder than the closing door.
"She moves like a Luna."
What did he mean by saying it aloud? Was it for Kael's benefit? A test? A warning? Or a challenge?
I didn't look back. I couldn't. My pulse thundered in my ears as I walked the hallway, the guard behind me silent. Either he didn't sense what Dax did, or he didn't care.
I did.
Back in the temporary quarters they assigned me—a stone cell with a blanket too thin to warm a ghost—I sat with my back against the wall and tried to breathe. The air was heavy with smoke from nearby hearths and the musk of wolves in close quarters. A scent I once associated with pride, protection, belonging.
Now it just made my skin crawl.
I had been here before, but not like this.
That hallway. That throne room. That Alpha.
Once, they had knelt before me. Now, I was a stray.
A ghost in another girl's skin.
---
That night, I dreamed again.
She's using my face.
My voice. My hands.
I wasn't special. I wasn't meant for this. I was just a girl.
She took it. And now she walks around like it belongs to her.
But I remember how it felt to die.
And I'm not finished.
I woke sweating, the sheets twisted around my legs like chains. My breath came in short gasps, and the back of my neck prickled like someone was still whispering against it.
The voice—hers—was clearer now.
Stronger.
I wasn't sure how long I could contain her.
---
Two days passed.
They kept me under watch but didn't lock me up. Silvercrest was trying to play diplomat, not executioner. Yet.
I moved carefully. Ate what they gave me. Answered nothing. Let them project their own narratives onto the blank slate they thought I was.
Aira Doe, the found girl. No history. No loyalties. Just a ghost with borrowed bones.
But Dax watched.
He didn't follow. He didn't ask.
He watched.
In the dining hall, his gaze would settle on me when he thought I wasn't looking. In the training yard, he stood still too long while others sparred. In the hall, he lingered in corners like a shadow no one else noticed.
I felt it. Every moment of it.
And still, he said nothing.
---
It was raining the third night when I found myself wandering. The Keep was massive, older than anyone alive, and parts of it had been sealed off after Selene's death. My death.
Instinct carried me down forgotten corridors and stairwells that hadn't seen fresh prints in years.
It smelled like dust and secrets.
I found a hall lined with faded portraits—Alphas and Lunas of the past. Some I remembered. Some I had sat beside. One in particular made my steps falter.
It was a painting of Kael.
Younger. Proud. Standing beside me.
No—beside Selene. The Luna he let die.
The painter had captured the moment well. The tension in our shoulders. The distance in our eyes. Even then, the cracks had started forming.
And now he ruled alone.
Behind me, a board creaked.
I spun.
No one.
But the scent hung in the air. Smoke. Iron.
Dax.
"Why are you following me?" I asked into the dark.
No answer.
I walked faster. My footsteps echoed against the stone. Somewhere far above, thunder cracked.
Another corner. Another hallway.
And then—
"You shouldn't be down here."
His voice came from behind.
I turned slowly.
Dax stepped from the shadows like he belonged to them. Arms crossed, eyes unreadable.
"Neither should you," I said.
He didn't smile. Didn't move.
"You went straight to that painting. You knew where it was."
I didn't reply.
"That portrait's been covered for years. No one comes here. Not even Kael."
Still, I said nothing.
He stepped closer. "That was Selene, wasn't it?"
I met his gaze. "Was it?"
His jaw tightened.
"I remember her," he said. "Not well. I wasn't ranked then. But I saw her fight once. During a Bloodmoon trial. She broke a ranked warrior's arm in two moves."
I said nothing.
"You fought like that yesterday."
I looked past him. "Is that why you're following me?"
"No," he said. "That's why I haven't turned you in yet."
My heart skipped. "Yet."
"You're hiding something," Dax said. "But so is Kael. And I don't know which secret's worse."
That surprised me.
He stepped closer. "I don't trust you. But I want to."
"You shouldn't," I said.
He tilted his head. "You're right. I shouldn't."
Then he walked past me, brushing my shoulder as he passed.
And for one second, I felt his hand. Just a graze.
Warm.
Real.
Alive.
---
That night, I tried to shift.
I waited until the guards rotated, then crept to the courtyard where old warriors used to run under moonlight. My limbs trembled as I stripped down to bare skin and knelt in the grass.
The moon hung high—full and bright.
I breathed it in. Called to the wolf.
Nothing.
Again. Deeper.
Come.
Pain seared down my spine. My hands clawed into the dirt.
Bones shifted. Skin pulled. Muscles twisted. But not enough. Not fully.
My body rebelled.
I dropped forward, panting, nails sunk into soil.
Not ready. Not strong enough. Not yet.
A sob broke from my throat. Rage followed.
I slammed my fist into the ground.
"I am Selene," I hissed.
But the night said nothing back.
At dawn, I was summoned again.
This time, to the outer wall.
A scout had returned—bloody, half-shifted, nearly dead. He collapsed in front of Kael and whispered something that made the entire line of guards tense.
Dax met my eyes across the courtyard.
He mouthed one word:
"Rogues."
And Kael's voice rang out.
"Everyone to arms. We ride within the hour."
He turned.
And looked directly at me.
"You too, Doe. Time to prove your loyalty."