Hollow Lake was not marked on any modern map. Its waters were ink-black, undisturbed by wind or wildlife, and surrounded by jagged cliffs that curved inward like the ribs of a dead god.
It was a place whispered about by the old wolves—a lake where truths drowned and the dead whispered to the living.
Selene stood at the edge of the water, alone, just as the letter instructed.
The moon hung high, casting silver light over the lake's glassy surface. Every instinct in her screamed trap, but something deeper inside her—a tug in her blood, in her magic—told her she was meant to be here.
The air felt… heavy. As if time itself held its breath.
Aira's voice was low in her mind.
"We're not alone."
Selene didn't move. "I know."
A shadow emerged from the woods behind her.
A man, hooded and cloaked in dark leathers, stepped silently into view. He was tall, his presence eerily calm.
Selene turned to face him, one hand resting on the hilt of her blade.
"Did you send the letter?"
The man slowly pulled back his hood.
Her heart stuttered.
His face was sharp, aged but strong, with eyes of stormy gray—eyes she knew from old portraits.
"No," she whispered. "You're dead."
He gave a tired smile. "Not yet."
"…Father?"
Daemon Blackwood—her father, the mate her mother was said to have died defending—nodded once.
Selene's mind reeled. "But they executed you. Damien's father announced it himself."
Daemon stepped forward, his voice low. "They wanted the world to believe I was dead. I let them. For your safety."
Selene stared at him, throat tightening. "Why now? Why reveal yourself after all these years?"
"Because you're ready," he said simply. "And because you need the truth if you're going to win the war that's coming."
Selene clenched her fists. "Tell me everything."
Daemon looked toward the lake.
"I served under Alpha Rhylen Thorn—Damien's father. I was a loyal Beta, and your mother, Lyra… she was the last true Royal Alpha. We loved in secret, because the Council forbade any union between Royal and Pack blood."
He paused. "When Lyra became pregnant with you, everything changed. The Council feared what you would be. What your bloodline might awaken. So they orchestrated a coup. They accused us of treason, claimed we were forming a rebellion."
Selene's voice shook. "And you didn't fight back?"
"We tried. But the Shadow Fang were already in motion. They infiltrated the Council. Assassinated Lyra in front of me. Took you while you were still an infant. I thought you were dead… until I saw the crest awaken three days ago."
Selene's chest felt like it was caving in.
"My whole life," she whispered. "I thought you abandoned me. I thought I was born of shame."
Daemon stepped forward, laying a calloused hand on her shoulder.
"You were born of legacy," he said firmly. "And you've surpassed us both."
Tears threatened to fall, but Selene blinked them away. "Then help me now. The Shadow Fang are already moving. They tried to kill me in Black Hollow. They're manipulating Alphas. Damien is likely one of them."
Daemon's jaw tightened. "He's worse. He's one of the few born with corrupted wolf-blood. His father used dark rites to fuse strength with shadow. He was meant to be the weapon to end the Royal Line."
Selene looked back at the lake. Her reflection shimmered in the moonlight.
"If I fail, they'll win. Again."
"But if you succeed," Daemon said, "you'll rebuild the kingdom your mother died to protect."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a long, slender case.
"This belonged to Lyra. I couldn't let it fall into their hands."
Selene opened it carefully.
Inside lay a blade forged of moonsteel—pale, glowing faintly, with the sigil of the Royal House on its hilt.
Her mother's sword.
"Moonfire," Daemon said. "The only blade capable of cutting through shadow-forged wolves."
Selene held it, feeling warmth rush up her arm. Her wolf stirred with reverence.
"I'll honor her with it," she promised. "And I'll finish what she started."
Suddenly, the air changed.
A foul scent—iron, ash, rot—rose around them.
Daemon growled. "They found us."
Selene turned just as five dark figures burst from the tree line, cloaked in black smoke. Their eyes glowed crimson, their claws longer than any natural wolf's.
Shadow-forged.
Selene didn't hesitate.
Moonfire flashed through the night as she dove into the first attacker, slicing across his chest. The wound hissed and burned as silver light consumed the darkness in his body.
Daemon shifted into his massive gray wolf and lunged at another, tearing its throat out with one brutal snap of his jaws.
Selene spun, slashing another across the knees before driving the sword into its heart.
Each kill released a puff of shadow, like black steam fleeing the light.
But the last one—larger than the others—charged straight for Selene with unnatural speed. Its claws scraped her shoulder before she managed to drive Moonfire up through its chest.
It shrieked—then dissolved into ash.
She dropped to her knees, panting.
Daemon shifted back, blood splattered across his chest. "They were testing you."
"I passed," she gasped.
He helped her to her feet. "You did more than that. You proved the prophecy is real."
Selene looked at the sword, glowing in her hand. At the lake, still and dark. At the blood on the rocks around them.
There was no turning back now.
"We take the fight to them," she said.
Daemon nodded. "Then we begin with the Council."
She turned away from the lake for the last time.
A Queen reborn.
But now… she was also a daughter reclaimed.