Chapter 2: The Mirror Whispers
Selene didn't sleep.
Not truly.
She drifted in and out of something else—something deeper than dreams. A darkness that pulsed with life, breathing around her like smoke under water.
And in it... a voice.
> "You called me…"
She jolted awake, the room still cloaked at midnight. Her sheets were twisted around her legs, damp with sweat. The mirror across the room—tall, antique, framed in tarnished silver—seemed to hum. A low vibration in her chest like the distant toll of a bell.
She stared at it.
It stared back.
Then, impossibly, the surface rippled.
Selene stood slowly, feet bare against the cold wooden floor, eyes fixed on the mirror. Her reflection shimmered. Then shifted. It wasn't her anymore.
It was him.
The man from her dream—or her nightmare. His eyes gleamed gold, skin dusky and smooth as marble, hair falling in long obsidian waves past his shoulders. And that smirk…
Like he knew her already. Like he had been waiting.
> "You remember me," he said softly, voice curling around her like velvet.
"Even if you've forgotten... your soul hasn't."
Selene backed away—but her body didn't listen. She moved closer.
> "Who are you?" she whispered.
> "I am bound to you. As you are to me."
Then the mirror cracked—not from the outside, but from within. A jagged line split the surface as his hand pressed against the glass.
> "Let me in, Selene."
Her name on his tongue felt like a spell.
Her fingers reached out, trembling, until they touched the cold glass—and the moment they did, the air snapped. Wind swirled from nowhere. Candles flared. And the mirror shattered inward, pieces falling like ice around her.
And from the other side, he stepped into her world.
Tall. Solid. Real.
Ashriel.
> "Your awakening has begun," he said.
"And they will come for you now."