Chapter 11. The Queen’s Hunt

Dawn came crimson.

Not soft, not golden—red. The sky bled across the treetops like an omen. And the land felt it.

Selene stood at the edge of the spirit-ground, bare feet planted in soft moss, the mark on her chest glowing faint silver even in daylight. Alaric stood beside her, silent. Neither of them had spoken much since the shrine.

They didn’t need to.

The bond hummed between them like a live wire—hot, potent, complete.

It was done.

And the world would feel it.

“They know,” Alaric said at last.

Selene didn’t ask how.

She could feel it too. Like a ripple in the bloodline. As if the Council’s eyes had turned all at once toward her, no longer seeing a girl born from traitor blood but something... untamed.