The forest whispered secrets beneath
the full moon.
Thick fog rolled between ancient
trees, cloaking the ground in silver. Every leaf shimmered under the glow, but
the night air held a different kind of electricity—the kind that clung to skin
and made breath catch in the throat.
Selene stepped into the clearing, her
bare feet silent on the mossy earth. The sheer black veil of her cloak clung to
her body, trailing behind her like smoke. Magic hummed in her blood, pulsing
beneath the glowing sigils inked along her thighs, her ribs, her throat. The
symbols flared softly, reacting to the energy in the air. Or maybe to him.
She felt him before she saw him.
A shift in the wind. The scent of old
blood and wild roses. Shadows stretched as if reaching for her, and then—he
emerged.
Lucien.
The vampire prince moved like a
phantom, all dark elegance and unholy hunger. Pale, shirtless, his black
trousers riding low on lean hips, he was both death and temptation wrapped in
sin. Crimson eyes burned as they locked on hers.
"You came," he murmured, voice like
velvet over a blade.
Selene didn't flinch. "You summoned
me."
"And you obeyed."
"I'm not yours to command."
Lucien's smile was slow, wicked. "Not
yet."
The clearing pulsed with tension as he
circled her, a predator savoring the moment before the kill—or the kiss.
Selene's heartbeat quickened, not with fear, but anticipation.
From the shadows, a low growl vibrated
through the trees. It was deep, guttural, feral.
Ronan.
The wolf emerged from the dark,
half-shifted, his broad frame glistening with sweat and power. His amber eyes
glowed, locked on Selene—and Lucien.
"You're both playing a dangerous
game," he snarled, voice gravel-edged and possessive.
Selene turned slowly to face him. "And
what if I want to be played with?"
For a heartbeat, the forest stilled.
Then the ritual circle beneath her feet flared to life—candles igniting in blue
fire, ancient symbols rising into the air. The bond was awakening. The magic
demanded blood, desire, power.
And she was ready to give it all.