Selene’s POV

The heavy doors slammed shut behind me with a loud thud.

I didn’t wait for Mira. I walked fast, almost running down the long hallway. My heels clicked sharply against the cold marble floor, echoing like angry footsteps. My heart was pounding, and my body trembled with rage. I wasn’t just angry—I was furious.

At the council.

At the people who stared at me like I didn’t belong.

But most of all… at him. Damian Wolfe.

He sat there like a king, silent and proud, while I stood like a display item in front of those cruel, cold eyes. They looked at me like I was weak. Like I didn’t matter.

I didn’t care where I was going. I just wanted to get away. I needed to breathe. To scream. To feel like I still had control of something—anything.

“Selene.”

His voice stopped me cold.

I turned slowly and saw him behind me. Damian. Calm as ever, hands in his pockets like nothing had happened. Like he didn’t just humiliate me.

“Don’t follow me,” I said sharply. My voice wasn’t strong, but I didn’t back down.

He took a step forward.

“I said don’t,” I snapped.

He didn’t listen. He kept walking, slow and steady.

I stepped back until my shoulder hit the stone wall. I was trapped. The fury I felt before was now joined by something else—fear.

“Do you enjoy this?” I asked bitterly. “Showing me off like I’m some trophy? Letting those people judge me like I’m worthless?”

“They weren’t laughing,” he said, voice calm.

“They didn’t need to. I saw it in their eyes.”

“They judge everyone.”

“I’m not your Luna.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!” I shouted, the words breaking out like a scream. “You brought me here like I’m your prisoner! You dress me up, you tell me where to go, what to do… You’ve taken everything from me!”

He didn’t speak.

“I hate it here,” I continued. “And I hate you.”

Something changed in his expression. I couldn’t tell what it was. Anger? Disappointment? Or maybe… interest?

“You don’t know me well enough to hate me,” he said quietly.

“I know enough.”

He took another step forward. I stood still, refusing to flinch, though my whole body was tense.

“You act strong,” he said, “but you’re still scared.”

“Of you?” I laughed dryly. “You’re not that special.”

“No,” he replied, his eyes sharp now. “You’re scared of the world outside. You’ve seen how cruel it can be. You’ve lived through pain, and now you’re afraid to hope for more.”

“I’d rather face that world than live in your golden cage.”

A silence fell between us. He looked at me carefully, and then something unexpected happened—he smiled. Not a warm smile. A dangerous one.

“You want out?” he asked.

I stared at him, unsure if I heard him right. “What?”

“You want your freedom?” he repeated, voice quiet but firm.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust anything in this place.

“Let’s make a deal,” he said.

Before I could speak, he turned and walked away. I followed, cautious but curious.

He led me to a large room that looked like a training hall. It was cold, wide, and dimly lit. The floor was made of polished stone. The walls held weapons—swords, spears, knives—and the air smelled like old sweat and something metallic… blood, maybe.

Two guards stood by the door.

“Clear the room,” Damian said without looking at them.

They obeyed immediately and walked out.

I stood still, confused. “Why are we here?”

He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. His body was strong, full of power and grace. It was the first time I noticed just how much strength he carried under that quiet face.

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