Chapter 11

Of course, Bea 💛 Let's dive into Chapter 11

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Chapter 11: The Echo in the Flame

The castle didn't sleep that night.

After the mark appeared on Selene's chest, glowing faintly like a wound of moonfire, Valerian paced the chamber with the kind of tension that could rip the stars from the sky. His shirt hung open, forgotten, his eyes still burning with red and violet flecks—signs the ancient magic within him was stirring, unraveling.

Selene stood silently, wrapping her arms around herself, as if she could still feel his lips on hers, the echo of that kiss running through her bones like wildfire.

"You said the curse has begun," she said quietly. "What does that mean for us?"

He stopped pacing. "It means there's no turning back."

Lightning tore the sky outside, illuminating the edges of the tower room. The storm was no longer just weather—it was part of the bond, a reflection of the chaos they had awakened.

Valerian turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Every vampire court will feel the shift. The High Elders, the Sanguine Order… even the Requiems buried in the bloodstone cities beneath the ice. They will come for you, Selene. Some to worship, most to kill."

"And you?" she asked softly.

"I should kill you," he murmured, stepping closer. "I should've killed you the moment I tasted your scent. It would have saved us both from ruin."

"But you didn't."

"No," he said, his voice raw. "Because I'd already died a thousand deaths waiting for you."

She closed the space between them, trembling. "Then protect me."

He stared at her for a long moment, something unspoken trembling in the air between them. Then, gently, he touched her jaw, thumb brushing over her skin. "I will. Even if it means burning the world."

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The next morning, the castle woke to whispers.

Maera, Valerian's First Guard, stormed into the grand hall with her sword strapped to her back, her braided white hair soaked with rain. "The Bloodbound Riders have crossed the northern gorge. We spotted six cloaked scouts on the ridge before the lightning took them."

Valerian didn't flinch. "They move faster than I thought."

Maera's eyes flicked toward Selene. "They know she's here."

Selene stood beside Valerian, chin high, refusing to hide behind him. "Then let them come."

Maera looked from Selene to her king. "This is reckless."

Valerian's gaze cut through the air like a blade. "So is fate."

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That night, Selene couldn't sleep.

She wandered the shadowed halls of the castle, drawn by the strange pull in her veins—the bond. It thrummed beneath her skin, humming with heat and something older than language. Something watching.

At the end of the hallway, she found a door half-open.

Inside, candlelight flickered. A library. No, more than that—an archive of blood and bone. The shelves weren't just filled with books but vials of old blood, glass urns of ash, scrolls made of pale leather. A sacred place.

Selene stepped in, and the candles flared to life with no wind.

"You shouldn't be here," said a voice behind her.

She turned. It wasn't Valerian. It was an older man, eyes clouded silver with prophecy, skin etched with runes. He was blind—and yet, somehow, he saw too much.

"I'm Selene," she said, suddenly unsure.

"I know who you are," he said, stepping closer. "You're the Omega that wakes the dead and damns the kings. You're the prophecy the Night Kings swore to bury."

"I didn't ask to be."

"No one does," he said. "But the flame chooses."

Selene looked around. "What is this place?"

"The Hall of Forgotten Bonds," he whispered. "Where the cursed are remembered and the marked are recorded."

Her heart thudded. "I'm not the first?"

"No," he said. "But you may be the last."

He reached for a scroll, unrolling it. There—inked in crimson—was a prophecy:

> When the moon splits and the bloodhound howls, the cursed king shall rise with fire in his veins. His mate, bound by fate, shall wear the mark of ruin and salvation. Together, they will awaken the sealed gate… and decide the fate of night itself.

Selene touched the scroll, her fingers brushing the edge of her destiny.

And then, behind her, Valerian's voice echoed—low, dangerous, and protective. "Step away from her."

The blind prophet chuckled. "Careful, Night King. Even destiny burns."

Valerian's eyes never left her. "Then let it."

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Back in her room, Selene stood before the mirror.

The mark above her heart had grown.

It now pulsed faintly with veins of black and silver, creeping across her collarbone like a blooming vine. It didn't hurt—but it felt like it wanted something. Like it was waiting.

Outside, the night howled.

And far beneath the castle, something in the dark began to stir—watching, waking, remembering.

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End of Chapter 11.