Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Crimson Path

Selene awoke in a cold sweat, the remnants of her dream clinging to her like frost. The image of Valerian standing over her, his crimson eyes glowing as the moon bathed him in silver light, remained vivid in her mind. But there had been something else—an ancient voice whispering from the shadows.

"When the omega bears the mark of stars, the blood moon shall rise, and kings shall fall."

She sat up slowly in the massive, canopied bed Valerian had placed her in, its silk sheets twisted around her legs like vines. The fire in the hearth still burned low, casting the stone chamber in a flickering amber glow.

The door creaked open. Valerian stood there, a tray in his hands. He was wearing black again, but this time, his coat was undone, revealing the intricate tattoo that curled over his chest—runes of old magic.

"You dreamed of the prophecy, didn't you?" he asked, his voice low, not needing confirmation.

Selene nodded. "You knew it would happen."

"I've been waiting for it. For you." He placed the tray on a nearby table. "You bear the mark. You were born under the blood eclipse. You are the catalyst."

"The catalyst for what, Valerian?"

His expression darkened. "The end. Or the beginning. Depending on who controls the path."

Selene rose from the bed, the nightgown she wore brushing against her ankles. "I don't want to be used. I'm not some pawn in a prophecy."

"No. You're the queen in this game. But even queens must choose their moves carefully."

He moved closer, his scent rich with cedar and blood and something else—something ancient. "There are factions in this world that will try to kill you for what you are. Others will try to claim you. I intend to do neither."

"What do you intend to do?"

Valerian's fangs flashed for just a second before he tamed the hunger in his gaze. "To help you survive. To protect you. And if you let me, to make you strong."

A beat passed between them—then another. And then she whispered, "Teach me."

That one word seemed to shift the very air in the room. Valerian's hand brushed against her cheek, and the fire in the hearth flared high.

**

The training began that night.

In a hidden courtyard behind the palace, beneath the crimson moon, Selene learned to wield shadows. Valerian taught her how to feel the pulse of the night through her veins, how to summon the energy that lived within her bloodline.

"You are an omega unlike any other," he murmured as she focused on drawing power. "Born not just to submit or to be claimed—but to rule."

Days passed. Then weeks. Selene's body grew stronger, her instincts sharper. She could now disarm a vampire in seconds, her reflexes honed to a deadly precision. But the real transformation was deeper.

She was no longer afraid.

And with each lesson, Valerian's walls cracked a little more.

One evening, as they stood in the library surrounded by volumes of forbidden texts, he confessed the truth about his curse.

"I am the last Night King," he said, voice rough. "My kingdom fell when I refused to bow to the Council. They cursed me to roam the centuries without peace, without a mate."

Selene looked up at him. "Until me."

His eyes met hers. "Until you."

The silence that followed was thick with emotion neither could name.

And just before she left the room, she turned back and said, "Then maybe your curse is my calling."

**

But not all eyes in the kingdom were blind to their growing bond.

In the lower chambers of the Citadel, a council of ancient vampires convened. Cloaked in shadows, their murmurs were sharp as blades.

"She is awakening."

"He is losing himself."

"She must be taken before the Crimson Eclipse."

Plans were being made. A war was brewing.

And Selene, the omega who should have been hunted, would soon rise to become something no one had foreseen:

A legend.

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