*Selene*
The first time I saw someone die, I didn't feel anything.
I was nine. The man had tried to mug Riven in an alley behind Velvet Veins. He had no clue what Riven was. He didn't even have time to scream when his throat was ripped out.
I stood there, holding a cup of blood-soaked ice, and watched the whole thing happen.
Then Riven wiped his mouth, tossed me the keys, and said, "Drive."
I didn't cry. I didn't flinch. I just drove.
Because numbness is how I survive.
But now, lying here beside Julian—with his arm across me, his breath warm on my shoulder—I can't be numb anymore.
That's what scares me the most.
⟡
Eros City doesn't sleep. It blinks, it hums, it feeds. Neon lights pulse like arteries. Steam vents from manholes like whispers from the underground. And somewhere in that endless sprawl, something ancient is waking.
I can feel it in my blood.
By daylight, I can't pretend anymore.
Julian wakens to the sound of my boots being laced.
His voice is drowsy. "You gonna leave me again?"
I don't turn around. "I need to see someone."
"Who?"
I glance at him. Hair mussed, shirt half unbuttoned, eyes still bleary with sleep.
God, he looks so human.
"You wouldn't believe me."
"Try me."
I hesitate. Then: "Her name is Vael."
"Friend?"
"No. She's what we call a Blood-Seer." I finally glance at him. "She doesn't take sides. But she sees everything."
Julian swings his legs over the bed. "Then I'm coming with you."
"Julian—"
"You said something's coming for you." His voice is firm. "You don't go through that alone."
I attempt to argue. But his jaw is set, his heartbeat steady. He's made up his mind already.
I nod.
"Wear black," I tell him. "And don't talk to anything that hisses."
⟡
The black market for blood is three levels beneath the old subway on 47th.
Julian's eyes widen as we walk past cages containing blood fiends, whispering sirens, and half-dead humans suspended upside down with IV bags draining them of blood. Nobody pays us a second look. Not even when I flash my fangs to get us past the guards.
Julian stays tight. His knuckles are white where he grips the railing for the stairs.
"You all right?" I whisper.
He nods. "This is like… Hell's Costco."
I smile despite myself. "That's one way of putting it."
We find Vael in her lair behind a curtain of red velvet beads. She's reclining on a throne of bone and satin, her eyes milky with milk-white cataracts that don't stop her from seeing right through me.
"Ah," she sighs, "the cursed girl and her beating-heart boy."
Julian tenses up.
Vael smiles like a snake. "Relax, darling. If I wanted you dead, I'd use her to do it."
"Vael," I say, "I need answers."
She swirls a goblet of something thick and red. "You always do."
"I found the chapel. I saw what my mother did. The prophecy… it's real, isn't it?"
Vael's smile vanishes.
She leans forward, and the air around her grows heavy.
"There are three bloodlines older than the Wraithborn," she whispers. "The Obscura. The Vanthe. And the Solkari. Your mother was Solkari. Fire-born. Marked by the sun."
"She died in the shadows," I say. "There was no fire."
"Because she gave it to you," Vael replies. "Her gift. Her curse. A flame that burns beneath your skin and calls to the old ones. That's why your blood shines in the sunlight. That's why you're cold but glow."
Julian blinks. "Wait. She… shines?"
Vael laughs. "Poor boy. You thought vampires couldn't handle the sun because it burns them up. But Selene doesn't burn up. She glows. As all Solkari do before they're claimed."
"Claimed by what?" I ask.
Vael lifts a hand—and her fingernails writhe with darkness.
"By the Void."
The room seems to breathe. Or maybe the walls. I'm not sure anymore.
"What does it want with me?" I whisper.
"To return," Vael responds. "Through you. The Solkari line was sealed for a reason. Your mother reopened that seal. And now. the Wraithborn stir."
Julian steps forward. "What do we do to stop it?"
Vael turns to him, head tilting like a cat regarding a mouse.
"You? Nothing. But she?" She points to me. "She must choose."
"Choose what?" I ask.
"To embrace what she is," says Vael. "Or to run—and watch everything burn."
She thrusts a vial into my hand. The glass is warm, the liquid inside it glowing softly gold.
"Drink this under moonlight," she whispers. "It will show you your true self."
I slip the vial into my pocket.
As we go to leave, Vael calls out behind me: "Beware whom you trust, Selene. Even those you love will drain you in the end."
⟡
Outside, Julian lights a cigarette with shaking hands. "You weren't kidding. She's a lot."
"You okay?"
"Yeah." He smokes. "I mean, no. But I will be."
We're halfway back to the bike when I stop dead.
There's someone watching us.
Julian feels it too. His backbone stiffens.
We turn a corner—and there he is.
The man from the chapel.
Only he's not quite a man anymore.
His skin is gray. His eyes burn white. His mouth is stitched shut.
And when he moves, it's wrong. Like someone taught a corpse to dance.
"Selene," Julian whispers.
"I know."
The creature attacks.
I push Julian aside and draw a dagger from my boot.
It slices through the creature's chest—but instead of blood, smoke erupts out. Screaming.
Julian grabs a pipe and swings it against its head with force. Bone crunches.
The creature stumbles back—but doesn't fall.
"Not enough," I spit. "We need fire."
Julian tosses me his lighter.
I flip it. Flames lick the edge of the dagger—and this time, when I stab, the thing shrieks and erupts into ash.
There is silence.
Julian is breathing hard beside me. "I'm starting to think I should've just stuck to college parties."
I laugh, breathless.
Then I kiss him.
Hard.
Because the world is ending.
And I want to feel something before it does.
⟡
That night, I'm on the roof of my apartment building beneath the moon.
I'm holding Vael's vial in my hand.
Julian's downstairs. Asleep again. He trusts me enough to remain.
I don't know if he should.
I pull out the cork and drink.
The fire fills me. My vision blurs. The world tilts.
And suddenly—I'm not on the roof anymore.
I'm standing in a circle of flames.
My mother is here. So is Riven. Vael. Even Calder, though his face is whole.
And then there's… me.
A figure of myself with eyes of gold and fire in her hands. Her skin cracks like marble, light glowing underneath.
She smiles.
"You are the lock and the blade," she whispers. "You are the storm before the silence. You are what comes next."
I reach out—
And the vision shatters.
⟡
I wake up on the rooftop. Cold. Alone.
But something has changed.
I can sense it in my blood. In the manner the shadows shrink back when I move ahead.
In the manner my eyes no longer reflect the stars—but *devour* them.
The Void exists.
But so does the fire.
And for the first time in my damned existence…
I'm not afraid to burn.