Selene's POV.
The door creaked open again. A maid returned to the room to clean me up after Damon and Eliah left, her eyes skimming over the bruises blooming across my body. I could tell she was scared. They all were.
I sat up as best I could, blood still dried on my temple from where Eliah had slammed the tray on her own forehead and framed me for it. My limbs trembled, but I forced my voice steady.
“I can give you all of my treasures,” I whispered, nodding to the vanity where a velvet box lay tucked behind the mirror. “They’re all in there. Gold, gems... the ones my mother gave me before she died.”
The maid froze. Her eyes flicked to the box, then back to me.
“It’s nothing hard,” I added quickly. “Can you just do me a favor? Please. Find me something that can boost my strength. Anything. Just an hour, that’s all I need.”
She hesitated again, biting her lip. But then, slowly, she nodded. Her eyes darted toward the door, then she scurried out like a shadow.
I exhaled shakily, my hands trembling in my lap. I had to survive tonight. I had to. My brother—Santino—was still out there. He would come back. I had to hold on.
Later that night, Thorne returned, eyes cold and distant, as the same maid quietly helped lift me onto a stretcher. My body felt like dead weight. I struggled, trying to resist, but I was too weak. They strapped me down as if I were some wild animal.
“Eliah,” I muttered, my voice hoarse. “You’ll never win.”
She only smiled and stepped forward, humming a cheerful tune. The sound sent a chill down my spine. Everyone in the room flinched. Is this the kind woman they believed in? Is this the "angel" Damon defended?
She leaned close, her breath brushing against my cheek.
“Goodbye,” she whispered, her lips curling into a vicious smile. “Enjoy the show. I’ll be standing on the balcony with my son, watching the entire kingdom bow to us. You? You’ll be just a whisper of a mistake.”
They pushed the stretcher forward. My breath came in shallow gasps. Every bump sent pain up my spine. We stopped near the main hall where Mrs. Moonvil stood in regal silence.
“I accepted you into this family,” she said coolly, “but you turned out to be worse than we feared. All this poison… and treachery.”
Lies. All lies. But no one here wanted the truth. Eliah had wrapped them all in a neat little fantasy where she was the saint, and I was the curse.
“I will pay you all back,” I said, voice raw, eyes burning. “Tenfold.”
That was all I managed before Thorne dragged the stretcher forward, away from the judgmental glares, away from the whispers of the court that had already decided my fate.
Mrs. Moonvil’s face twisted in rage. “We tried to help you. And this is how you repay us?”
Outside, the halls filled with panic. Staff and maids—those not in the know—rushed about, clearly unsettled by the sight of their Luna being wheeled into the emergency wing like a dying animal. They didn't know what was happening. Not yet.
The poison coursed faster through my veins. The world tilted, spinning wildly. I clenched my hand into a fist, digging my nails so deep that blood welled up. I had to stay awake. I couldn’t pass out now.
I looked to the maids pushing me and saw Thorne already ahead, preparing the surgical instruments. He wouldn't dare defy Damon. Not anymore.
Then—my pocket. I tapped it with my fingertips. Yes. The vial was still there.
Now.
With one swift motion, I slipped my hand in and pierced myself with the hidden syringe. Fire tore through my body, hot and violent. The serum worked. My limbs twitched, strength slowly trickling back.
Not much time.
I lunged, elbowing one of the maids and sending the stretcher lurching. I rolled off it, hitting the floor hard, but I didn’t stop. I scrambled up, staggering through the corridor. My heart pounded like thunder in my ears.
Ten minutes. That was all I had.
I ran, weaving through empty halls, past stunned staff too shocked to react. My bare feet slapped the cold tiles as I rushed toward the eastern gate—the one guarded by the fewest wolves. If I could just reach the forest. Just ten more steps…
But something slammed into my back with brute force.
I hit the ground with a grunt, pain exploding in my ribs.
A hand grabbed my ankle and yanked me back.
Damon.
His eyes burned with fury, his breath hot against my neck as he hauled me up like I weighed nothing.
“Did you really think you could escape me?” he snarled. “You picked the quietest route—foolish. That just means I can drag you back without anyone asking questions.”
He flung me over his shoulder and marched back through the halls.
“Fight all you want, Selene,” he said, his voice cold. “Your time is up.”
The sterile light of the surgical room blinded me. I was thrown onto the table, my wrists strapped down. Thorne stood above me with a scalpel in one hand, hesitation in his eyes.
“Don’t do this,” I croaked. “Thorne… please.”
But he didn’t respond.
My stomach tightened with dread. The baby inside me shifted—faint, but still alive.
No. No, please.
My womb burned. My baby squirmed inside me weakly.
Not my baby.
Thorne injected the anesthesia once. Twice. A third time. My mind began to fade, but I gritted my teeth.
Not yet. Not like this.
I screamed. Or at least, I thought I did. My throat burned, but no sound came out. My eyes were heavy, my limbs numb. I felt the scalpel. I felt them opening me.
My baby…
Then—
BOOM!
A deafening explosion rocked the walls. Smoke filled the room.
The lights above me flickered. Alarms blared. I heard shouting—wolves running, someone coughing, glass shattering.
What—?
What just happened?
My mind screamed to stay awake, but the potion had worn off.
I tried to move.
Tried to speak.
Tried to reach my baby one last time.
Then darkness swallowed me whole.
