Teeth Beneath the Silk

The council chamber always felt more like a mausoleum than a seat of power.

Dark marble walls. High, vaulted ceilings. Shadows that whispered more than the living ever dared. The Blood Court was built on control—on fear disguised as elegance.

Selene stood with her hands folded neatly in front of her as the High Matron paced the central dais, her crimson robes trailing like blood spilled too slowly. Her voice, though soft, commanded silence like a blade to the throat.

"The scent was verified. A Greyhart wolf crossed the border two nights ago. Possibly more."

Gasps, murmurs. The nobles leaned in like vultures circling a fresh wound.

Selene said nothing.

'He didn't attack,' she wanted to say. 'He spoke. He listened.'

But the truth would be her execution.

Lucien stood a few steps to her left, arms crossed, jaw clenched tight. Protective, always—but if he knew what she'd done, who she'd met… he wouldn't hesitate to drag her before the council himself.

"What would a werewolf be doing on our land?" asked Lord Varyn, sneering. "Scouting? Spying? Preparing an assault?"

"Or something worse," said another. "Trying to make contact. Break our defenses."

"They'd never be so bold without a traitor among us."

Selene's spine stiffened.

Simon stood against a pillar behind the High Matron—silent, calculating, watching her.

Their eyes met for only a moment.

And Selene saw it.

He knew she was hiding something. He didn't know what yet—but he would dig. He would poison. He would wait for her to slip.

"And if he finds out about Ronan?" she thought

The Matron raised a pale hand, silencing the room.

"We will increase border patrols. Any wolf caught beyond the Vale is to be executed on sight. No hesitation. No mercy. We do not negotiate with filth."

The nobles murmured their approval like obedient dogs.

Selene stayed still, but inside, her thoughts spiraled. "He doesn't belong to that cruelty. Not him."

As the court began to disperse, Lucien touched her elbow gently.

"Don't go wandering tonight," he murmured. "There's a storm coming. I can feel it."

She nodded once, meeting his storm-colored eyes.

But she wouldn't listen.

Not tonight.

Because deep in her chest, something was shifting. Something dangerous. Something that wanted to understand Ronan. To see him again.

And the part of her that had always obeyed?

It was beginning to die.

The murmurs of the court faded as the High Matron lowered her hand, signaling the conclusion of the gathering. The nobles slowly began to filter out of the chamber, their sharp, silent glances flickering between Selene and the rest of the council.

The pressure in the room was noticeable. Everyone knew something was amiss, and they were waiting for the first crack to appear—waiting for the scent of betrayal to surface. Selene couldn't shake the feeling that, somewhere in the shadows, Simon was watching her every move.

As the last of the council members exited, Lucien stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Selene's. His protective nature was both a comfort and a burden.

"Don't go wandering tonight," he warned, his voice low but filled with concern. "You don't look like yourself. I've never seen you so distant."

Selene swallowed hard, fighting the urge to tell him everything. To confess that she had met a werewolf. A wolf who, against everything she had been taught, had felt different. But there were no words for this, not yet. If she spoke, it would unravel everything.

"I'm fine, Lucien," she said, the words coming out more sharply than she intended.

Lucien studied her for a long moment before he gave a small nod, though his eyes betrayed his worry. He'd never been one to push her, but Selene knew he didn't trust the shifting balance between vampires and werewolves. Neither of them did.

"We're bound by blood, Selene. Never forget that." He squeezed her shoulder gently, offering a brief but warm touch of reassurance before walking away.

Selene stood there for a long moment, her hand resting on the cold stone pillar. Bound by blood. The words echoed in her mind like a warning, but they felt hollow now. Blood was a chain, not a connection.

The court's rules, her lineage, and everything she'd known were starting to feel less certain, less right.

She turned and walked away, but her thoughts were elsewhere—in the shadows of the forest, where Ronan had stood the night before.

The hallway outside her chambers was dimly lit, the torchlight flickering as if to match the growing unrest in her heart. She barely noticed the servants and guards passing by, their whispers hushed, as if they too sensed something was off.

The door to her room opened, and there, standing like a shadow in the frame, was Simon.

She tensed, her heart skipping a beat.

"You didn't answer my question earlier," Simon said, stepping inside without invitation, his eyes narrowing as he closed the door behind him. "Where did you go last night?"

Selene clenched her jaw, refusing to answer at first. The lie that had settled on her lips tasted bitter, but she knew Simon would never let it go.

"I went for a walk," she said stiffly, making her voice sound as indifferent as she could. "A breath of air."

Simon stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "A walk?" he repeated with a dry laugh. "And now you've gone and joined them? The wolves?"

His gaze darkened, and something colder than usual flashed in his eyes. "Don't think for a second that I haven't noticed how different you've been lately. How distracted." He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from her face with a tenderness that felt wrong. "You're slipping, Selene."

Her pulse quickened, but she held her ground. "You don't know what you're talking about, Simon."

He stepped closer, his voice now a dangerous whisper. "I know everything. I know when you're lying. I know when you're hiding something from me."

Selene's breath hitched. "I'm not hiding anything from you."

"You're lying again," he hissed, stepping even closer, his presence a crushing weight against her. "Tell me, Selene, do you think the pack will protect you if they find out what you've been doing? Do you think they'll let you walk free when the truth comes out?"

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she fought to keep her composure. "Don't threaten me, Simon."

"I'm not threatening you," Simon said, a wicked smile curling at his lips. "I'm giving you a choice. Stay loyal to me, to your kind, or I'll make sure the court knows exactly where your loyalty lies."

For a long moment, Selene stood frozen, the room spinning around her. Simon's words were poison, and they had the power to undo everything. She could feel it in her bones—the pressure of his control. And yet… there was a part of her that wanted to break free from it.

She took a slow, steady breath, finding the strength to meet his gaze. "You won't do anything," she said quietly.

For a moment, Simon's smile faltered, and his eyes darkened even further.

"Don't push me, Selene," he warned.

She felt a sudden surge of defiance rise in her. "I'm done being controlled. And you can't stop me."

Simon's smile returned, but it was colder, more calculated. "We'll see about that."

With one last glance, he turned and left the room, the door closing behind him with a resounding click.

Selene stood there, breathing heavily, the weight of his words pressing down on her chest. She had no idea what came next. But she knew, deep down, that her life was about to change in ways she couldn't control.

And for the first time, she wasn't sure if she cared.