Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Mark of the Moon

The castle corridors whispered with secrets, and Selene felt them all—every glance the shadows gave, every breath the stone walls held since the beginning of time. She walked beside Valerian, silent, her body still thrumming from their last moment. The way he'd touched her skin, the look in his eyes—it wasn't lust alone. It was history. It was fate.

As they entered the great hall, torches burst into blue flame along the columns, illuminating ancient murals painted in blood and shadow. Figures danced across the walls—gods, wolves, the first Night King. One image drew Selene's gaze: a silver-haired woman marked by a crescent moon on her throat. She was chained between two warring creatures—one a beast with bat wings and fangs, the other a horned man made of stars. The moon glowed above her head.

Selene stopped, her fingers trembling as she reached for the mural. "That's me."

Valerian was behind her in an instant. "It is a prophecy, not a mirror."

"But I've seen her before. In my dreams. My nightmares." Her voice shook. "She dies at dawn."

Valerian stepped close. "Dreams are only warnings. Not certainties."

She turned toward him. "Then tell me the truth. Who was she?"

He hesitated. "She was the first omega to enter the Night Court. They called her Lunara. She bore the mark of the Moon—same as you."

Selene clutched her throat. "I don't have any—"

He raised his hand and brushed her collarbone. The moment his thumb grazed her skin, a shimmer appeared. A pale crescent moon emerged beneath her skin like ink pulled from the depths of her blood.

"You were cursed the moment you were born," Valerian said quietly. "And blessed. The prophecy calls you the Flame of the Eclipse. When the moon touches the blood sun, your power will awaken."

She staggered back, horrified. "What does that mean?"

"That you may save us all… or destroy everything."

Her knees buckled, and he caught her before she fell. His arms wrapped around her protectively, and she found herself tucked against his chest. For a moment, the world stilled.

"I don't want this," she whispered.

"Neither did I." His voice was soft. "But fate chose us."

They stood there, tangled in silence and memory, until footsteps echoed behind them. A tall woman with obsidian eyes and a blade strapped to her thigh approached. Her scent was fire and steel.

"My lord," the woman said. "The Council demands an audience. The oracle has awakened."

Valerian tensed. "Selene, stay here."

"No," Selene said, stepping forward. "If I'm in the prophecy, I need to hear what it says."

The woman arched a brow but said nothing. Valerian didn't argue. Together, they descended into the undercroft beneath the castle, where the bones of kings whispered in the dark.

The Oracle was a withered creature wrapped in veils of silver and black. Her eyes were blind, her lips stained with crimson.

"You bring the Moon Child," she rasped. "And the Cursed King. It has begun."

Selene's heart pounded.

"Speak," Valerian commanded. "What must we do?"

The Oracle smiled, a terrible thing. "You must survive each other."

She reached out and touched Selene's wrist. Flames burst from her skin—silver and violet, like starlight caught in fire. Selene screamed, but the pain faded quickly, replaced by heat that felt like recognition.

When she looked again, a glowing mark had appeared on her wrist: a pair of wings wrapped around the crescent moon.

"The seal is broken," the Oracle said. "The Night King has found his mate. Let the war begin."

---

Upstairs, in the highest tower, a raven flew into the night, carrying word to the shadows beyond the realm. And somewhere deep in the north, a monster opened his eyes.

He had been waiting centuries for the Moon Child.

And he would not let Valerian keep