The shed smelled like death.
Not real death. Not yet. But the smell of earth and old tools and darkness. The smell of a tomb.
Selene huddled behind the burlap sacks where Alaric had hidden her. Her body shook so hard her teeth chattered.
She couldn't stop screaming Isolde's name inside her head.
But no sound came out. Her throat was raw. Destroyed from screaming in the garden before Alaric dragged her away.
Her little sister was gone.
Taken by masked wolves into the forest.
And Selene had done nothing. Been able to do nothing.
Just a helpless child while they tore Isolde away.
Her young wolf howled inside her chest. A keening sound of anguish that no one else could hear. The wolf wanted to break free. To hunt. To find Isolde and bring her home.
But the wolf was trapped. Too young. Too weak.
Just like Selene.
The knife Alaric had given her lay forgotten in her lap. Cold metal against her legs.
She was supposed to use it if soldiers found her. Aim for the throat, he'd said.
But what good was a knife when her whole world had ended?
Outside, footsteps crunched on gravel. Soldiers searching.
"Check every building!"
"The marked girl has to be here somewhere!"
"What about the bodies? Did we get them all?"
"Most of them. Still a few survivors hiding. We'll root them out."
Selene pressed her hand over her mouth. Holding back sobs.
Through the cracks in the shed's wooden walls, she could see shapes moving. Torchlight flickering. Soldiers in groups of three and four, methodically searching the estate.
One group approached the shed.
Selene's heart stopped.
The door handle rattled.
She curled smaller behind the sacks. Held her breath. Gripped the knife with shaking hands.
The door creaked open.
Torchlight spilled inside. Shadows danced across the walls.
"Just garden tools," a voice said. "Nothing here."
"Check behind everything. Girl's small. Could be hiding."
Footsteps entered the shed.
Selene could see boots through a gap in the burlap. Heavy. Mud-stained. Coming closer.
The mark on her forehead burned hot. Like it was calling to them. Announcing her presence.
She pressed her hand over it. Trying to smother the heat.
The boots stopped three feet from her hiding spot.
"What's that smell?"
"Dirt. Fertilizer. Old blood from butchering chickens probably."
"No, something else. Something... young."
Selene's wolf whimpered. They could smell her. Her fear. Her youth.
The boots turned toward the burlap pile.
Then a shout from outside. "Found one! Survivor trying to climb the east wall!"
The soldier in the shed cursed. "Hold him! I'm coming!"
The boots retreated. The door slammed shut.
Darkness swallowed Selene again.
She gasped for air. Silent. Shaking so hard she thought she'd break apart.
Close. Too close.
Outside, the survivor's screams started. Then stopped abruptly.
Execution.
Through the cracks in the wood, Selene watched.
The soldiers dragged bodies into a pile in the courtyard. Guest wolves who'd come for the feast. Servants who'd worked in the manor their whole lives. People Selene had known. Had laughed with. Had loved.
All dead now.
Or dying.
A wounded wolf tried to crawl away. One of the visiting Betas. He'd toasted her father at dinner. Had smiled at Selene and called her a pretty little thing.
A soldier walked up to him. Raised a silver blade.
"Please," the Beta gasped. "I have children. A mate. Please..."
The blade fell.
Selene looked away. But she couldn't unhear the sound. The wet thud. The final gasp.
This wasn't battle. This wasn't war.
This was slaughter.
Murder.
And somewhere out there in the darkness, masked wolves had Isolde.
Had her sister done something wrong to deserve this?
Had their family done something terrible that Selene didn't know about?
The mark on her forehead pulsed. Hot. Angry.
This was because of the mark. Because of her.
The soldiers had said it. "Find the marked girl. The Alpha King wants her dead."
But why? She was nobody. Just a Beta's daughter. Just a child.
What prophecy were they talking about?
Hours crawled by.
The sounds of searching gradually faded. The soldiers' voices grew distant.
The fires burned lower. The manor's east wing collapsed with a groan of breaking timber. Sparks shot into the sky like dying stars.
Selene sat in the darkness and watched her home die.
She didn't cry. Couldn't cry. The tears had run dry somewhere between seeing her father fall and hearing Isolde's screams cut off.
She was empty.
Hollow.
A shell with nothing inside but grief.
The mark stopped burning eventually. It settled into a dull throb. A permanent ache.
Like it was part of her now. Branded into her skin and soul.
Through the cracks, she watched the sky lighten. Black fading to gray. Dawn approaching.
The soldiers began to leave. Their voices carried across the ruined estate.
"That's all of them. Every Eltharion dead. Every guest dead. Every servant dead."
"Good. The Alpha King will be pleased. No survivors. No witnesses."
"What about the marked girl?"
"The masked ones confirmed her death. Said they handled it personally."
Lies.
Selene was alive.
But they thought she was dead.
Why?
The footsteps faded. Horses whinnied. The soldiers were leaving.
Silence fell.
Not peaceful silence. Not the quiet of sleep or rest.
The silence of death. Of a place that used to be alive and now wasn't.
Selene sat in the shed and listened to nothing.
Then the door opened.
She flinched. Gripped the knife.
"It's me." Alaric's voice. Hoarse. Exhausted.
He looked like he'd been through hell. Blood covered him. His clothes were shredded. Cuts and bruises marked every visible inch of skin.
But he was alive.
"They're gone," he said. "The soldiers left. We're safe. For now."
Safe. The word meant nothing.
"Stay here," Alaric continued. "I'll check if it's safe. Make sure they're really gone."
He slipped back out before Selene could respond.
She sat in the darkness. Numb with grief.
Minutes passed. Or hours. Time had stopped meaning anything.
Then she heard it.
A sound. Small. Broken.
Crying.
Selene's head jerked up. Her wolf surged to attention.
That sound. She knew that sound.
Isolde.
Selene stumbled to her feet. The knife clattered to the floor forgotten.
She pushed out of the shed into the dawn light. Gray sky. Smoke still rising from the manor's ruins.
The crying came from the rose garden.
Selene's feet moved without thought. Running. Stumbling. Following the sound.
"Isolde?" Her voice cracked. Raw. "Isolde, where are you?"
The rose garden was destroyed. Scorched. The beautiful flowers her mother had tended were ash now. The marble fountain was cracked. The stone bench where their father read stories was blackened with soot.
And beneath the trellis where Isolde loved to play...
Selene stopped.
Her heart stopped.
Everything stopped.
A small shape lay on the ground. Curled on its side. Unmoving.
Yellow dress stained with dirt and blood.
Dark hair spread across the scorched earth.
Small hands open. Empty.
"No."
Selene's legs carried her forward. She fell to her knees beside the body.
Isolde.
Her little sister.
Lying so still.
Eyes open. Staring at nothing. Seeing nothing.
A silver dagger protruded from her small chest. Right through her heart.
The crying sound came again.
Not from Isolde. She was silent. Still.
The sound came from Selene's own throat. A broken, keening wail.
She reached out with shaking hands. Touched Isolde's face.
Cold.
So cold.
Like touching marble. Like touching a statue.
Not a child. Not her sister.
Just a body now.
An empty shell.
"No no no no..."
Selene gathered Isolde into her lap. Pulled her close.
Her little sister's head lolled. Lifeless.
"Wake up," Selene whispered. "Please wake up. We have to go. We have to run. Mama and Papa are waiting. We have to..."
But Mama and Papa weren't waiting.
They were dead too.
Everyone was dead.
The entire world had died in one night.
Selene rocked back and forth. Holding her sister's body. Crying without sound because her throat wouldn't work anymore.
The mark on her forehead throbbed.
This was her fault.
All of it.
The marked girl. The prophecy.
The soldiers had come for her.
And everyone she loved had died instead.
The sun rose higher. Gray light spilling across the ruined garden.
And Selene sat beneath the scorched trellis, holding her dead sister, and felt her own heart stop beating.
She was alive.
But everything that made her alive was gone.