Selene woke before dawn. The room was still shrouded in darkness when she suddenly opened her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. Her breathing came in short gasps, her skin was covered in cold sweat, and that voice still echoed inside her.
“Ailyn.”
Selene sat up in bed. Beside her, Liam slept deeply, unaware of the chaos unfolding inside her. She pressed one hand to her chest and tried to hear it again, tried to find that presence, but there was nothing beyond the same silence that had accompanied her all her life.
And yet... something was different. She could feel it. As if a door had been opened just a few inches; as if someone were watching her from the other side, waiting.
Selene closed her eyes.
“Ailyn?”
There was no answer. Only the distant sound of the wind beating against the fortress windows.
The days that followed were difficult—more difficult than she would admit to anyone. The exhaustion came first. A strange, profound fatigue, as if her body were working without her realizing it. She slept for hours and remained exhausted. Her legs felt heavy, her arms trembled, and a slight fever appeared during the night, only to vanish by morning.
The healers found no explanation.
“Maybe it's stress,” one of them suggested.
“Maybe it's the change of seasons,” said another.
Selene merely nodded, but deep down, she knew: this wasn't an illness. It was something else. Something happening inside her that she still didn't understand.
While Selene grew weaker, Ravenna flourished. The heiress of Spina seemed born for this world. Every morning, she trained with the warriors; every afternoon, she attended military meetings; every night, she dined beside the elders. Always flawless, elegant, and perfect. And more present than ever.
One cold morning, Selene watched from the upper balcony as Ravenna dueled two veteran warriors. The woman spun her sword with precision, disarmed the first, knocked down the second, and received applause from the entire arena. The elders smiled, the warriors praised her, and even Theron seemed impressed.
“She fights very well,” a nearby guard commented.
“Better than many Alphas.”
“A true Luna.”
Selene looked away.
Ravenna found her alone that afternoon. As always, far from Liam's gaze, far from the pack's eyes. Selene was arranging medicinal herbs in the greenhouse when she heard footsteps behind her. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
“You look pale.”
Selene continued working.
“Thanks for pointing that out.”
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
“You look like it.” Ravenna approached slowly. “Maybe the problem is something else.”
Selene finally raised her eyes.
“What do you want?”
Ravenna smiled—the smile that never appeared in front of Liam.
“Nothing.” She paused. “I just find it curious.”
“What?”
“Two years as the Alpha's wife. Two years living like a queen. And you still remain a stranger to this pack.”
Those words struck exactly where Ravenna intended, because they were true. Cruel, but true. Selene remained silent.
“Do you know the difference between us?”
“I don't care.”
“I belong to this world. You don't.”
That night, there was a council dinner, and Selene was forced to attend. The main table was packed: elders, commanders, and representatives from Spina. Liam occupied the head of the table, Ravenna sat to his right, and Selene to his left. Throughout the meal, she felt the weight of their stares as they judged and compared her.
At one point, one of the elders commented:
“Lady Ravenna has brought excellent suggestions for defending the southern border.”
“I agree,” another replied. “Her military experience is admirable.”
Ravenna lowered her head modestly.
“I'm only helping however I can.”
The praise continued for some time, until someone asked:
“Lady Selene.”
Her heart raced. Everyone looked at her.
“What is your opinion on the situation in Falgor?”
Silence fell over the table. Selene opened her mouth, but immediately realized it: this wasn't a question. It was a test. She knew about flowers, animals, herbs, and people, but not military strategy. She had never had the opportunity to learn.
Before she could answer, Ravenna smiled.
“I'm sure Lady Selene possesses many other qualities.”
The sentence sounded kind, but it wasn't. It was an insult wrapped in silk, and everyone understood—including Liam.
Later, alone in her chambers, Selene cried. Not because of Ravenna, the elders, or the war. She cried because she was tired. Tired of proving she deserved to exist. Tired of feeling that she would never be enough. Tired of fighting a shadow that always seemed to grow.
She wiped away her tears, took a deep breath, and then felt it: a faint, distant presence, but there, deep within her soul.
“You're sad.”
Selene froze. The voice was soft, feminine, and ancient.
“Ailyn?”
Silence. Then:
“Yes.”
Her heart raced.
“Are you real?”
The presence hesitated, as if speaking required effort, as if the voice itself were being built.
“I always have been.”
“Where were you?”
Long seconds passed before the answer came.
“Waiting for you to survive.”
Tears filled Selene's eyes again, but this time they weren't tears of pain—they were tears of hope. Because for the first time in her life, she wasn't completely alone.
“Are you going to leave again?”
The voice grew weaker and more distant.
“I still can't stay.”
“Why?”
Silence. Then, one final answer:
“Because you're not ready to carry me yet.”
And the presence disappeared, leaving behind only the gentle warmth that remained inside Selene's chest.
For the first time, she had a name: Ailyn. And for the first time, the darkness inside her seemed a little less lonely.