The Council Has a Spine? Since When?
The summons arrived with all the grace of a slap to the face.
A sealed letter, slid under my door just past dawn. Dawn — when even the rats of the castle were still asleep.
"Report to the Obsidian Chamber. Immediately."
How charming. They couldn't even pretend I deserved dignity.
I turned the letter over in my hand, yawned, and tossed it into the fireplace. If they want a monster, they'll get one — fashionably late.
---
Auron stood at the end of the corridor, stiff and polished like the Council carved him from obedience.
"Morning," I drawled, tugging on my gloves. "How noble of you to escort me to my daily public flogging."
He didn't blink. "You were summoned. I'm to ensure you arrive on time."
"How romantic. Shall we hold hands or sharpen our swords?"
Auron said nothing, but his jaw clenched just enough to be satisfying. He hated that I knew how to prod him.
---
The Obsidian Chamber was its usual crypt of cold stares and colder truths.
Twelve Council members in silver cloaks sat in a crescent around me, each hiding behind formality like it made them righteous.
Cassian, of course, opened his mouth first. Unfortunately.
"Selene Draven. You've been observed past curfew again."
I gave him a long blink. "Forgive me, my leash must have slipped."
Someone choked. Auron shifted. I smiled.
Cassian ignored it, lips pressed into a grim line.
"There are... rumors. Shadows seen where none should be. A noble found dead — drained, no wounds. Citizens whisper your name with fear."
"Fear? Oh no. My worst nightmare — relevance."
The air went thick. Torchlight dimmed like it had better things to do.
Cassian stepped closer, voice colder now. "This isn't a game. Whatever you're becoming—"
"Becoming?" I laughed, sharp and cold. "Darling, I've always been this."
I stood, slow and deliberate. Walked to the stone table where the Council judged lives like flipping coins.
My fingers grazed its surface. Crack.
Faint crimson light shimmered beneath my glove — a sigil flared and vanished like a heartbeat.
They all saw it.
Auron tensed. Veila whispered something and made a warding gesture.
Cassian's voice trembled, just a fraction. "What was that?"
I tilted my head. "Static. You should get better insulation."
Then I turned and walked back to my throne. Sat like it was a throne of ash and I was born in flame.
---
The doors burst open.
"Did I miss the stoning, or are we still pretending to be civilized?"
Iria strode in like chaos bottled in wine and lace. She wore gold — too much gold — and carried a goblet like she was born to interrupt empires.
She plopped into the seat beside me.
"You're late," I murmured.
"So was the wine. I suffered more."
She raised her goblet toward Cassian. "Cheers to the man who always looks like he's smelling rot."
"Get out," he snapped.
"I'm not even in yet," she said sweetly. "And please — your rage is leaking through your pores."
Cassian's face twitched. I nearly applauded.
---
Iria leaned toward me, whispered:
"They're scared of you."
"Good," I said.
Then louder: "Do we have anything new to discuss, or are we recycling gossip?"
Cassian tried again, voice iron:
"There are rumors, Selene."
"And you seem very invested in them, which makes me wonder — are they true, or just inconvenient?"
The chamber fell into silence. Not out of respect — but dread.
I let it stretch like the edge of a blade.
Then smiled. "Now, if we're done wasting my immortality, I'll be taking my leave."
---
Outside, the wind sliced through the corridors like truth. Auron caught up quickly.
"Selene." His voice was tighter than usual. "Back there… that sigil—"
> "Was nothing," I said. "A party trick. You'd like it less if I bled properly."
He frowned. "They'll use it against you."
I paused, met his eyes. "Then maybe it's time I give them something worth fearing."
Auron looked at me for a long moment, then said quietly:
"This… this isn't what you were meant to be."
I smiled, bitter and slow.
"And yet — here I am."
---
That night, I stood at the Moonwell again. The stars refused to look down.
I peeled off my glove.
The veins in my hand shimmered faint crimson. My blood no longer whispered.
It roared.
Whatever Lucien did to me… whatever I am now…
They'll either crown me — or burn me.
And honestly?
I haven't yet decided which I'd prefer.
---