Thunder echoed across the sky as a storm rolled over the mountains bordering Obsidian Keep. The air was thick with magic—raw, unsettled, and restless. Seraphina stood on the inner balcony of Lucien's chambers, her fingers brushing the rail, her mind replaying the vision, the kiss, and that veiled woman's venomous smile.
She had passed the Trial of Devotion. She had chosen love.
But something told her the real trials were only just beginning.
Behind her, Lucien stirred. His bare chest rose and fell steadily as he slept, the black sheets tangled around his waist. Despite everything, the bond had given them a moment of peace. A moment she feared would be stolen too soon.
Because the woman in the veil… she hadn't just been a stranger.
She had known Seraphina's name.
And her magic had smelled of roses and rot.
---
In the war room the next morning, the Obsidian Council gathered, cloaked in layered black and silver. The map of the realm spread out across the center table pulsed with magical sigils that flickered in warning.
Lucien stood at the head, commanding. Seraphina stood beside him now—not just as his Luna, but as his equal.
"She was at the feast," Seraphina said. "A woman in emerald. Veiled. I don't know who she was, but she wasn't a guest."
"Are you sure she wasn't from the East?" asked Elder Thorne, brows furrowed. "The envoys arrived hours before the feast."
"No," Lucien said darkly. "They were escorted. And they wouldn't risk breaking protocol—not unless they wanted war."
"She didn't look like a diplomat," Seraphina added. "She looked like a predator."
One of the younger scouts, Kai, leaned in. "A report came in from the Shadow Pass. A border village was attacked two nights ago. Burned. No survivors."
"Signs of magic?" Lucien asked.
Kai nodded. "Poison bloom. Veil magic."
A hush fell.
Poison bloom was outlawed long ago. Forbidden even among the dark clans. It didn't just kill—it corrupted.
Seraphina's skin prickled. "Who would dare use that now?"
Lucien met her eyes grimly. "Someone who doesn't care about laws. Someone who wants you dead."
---
Later that evening, Seraphina descended into the lower archives. If her mother's past held any truth, it would be buried here. The ancient librarian, Maelis, gave her a look of knowing sorrow and handed her a sealed scroll.
"The prophecy your mother tried to protect," Maelis said. "She left it encoded. Only a blood heir can unlock it."
The scroll burned cold against Seraphina's skin.
Back in Lucien's chambers, she unrolled it.
Silver ink spread across the parchment as if alive.
When the Crimson Star binds to the Flame of the Forsaken Moon, the curse shall split, and only the chosen shall decide the fate of all.
Below the words, an image unfurled—a circle split into three. A woman. A beast. A crowned man of shadow.
And beneath it, a name.
Yelena.
Seraphina's heartbeat quickened. "That's my mother's name."
Lucien crossed the room. "And the name of the last Luna to be cursed by the Eastern Queen."
He turned the parchment. The back was blackened.
"Not just a message," he murmured. "It's a warning."
Suddenly, a pulse of energy shook the walls.
A tremor.
Then a howl.
Lucien was already moving.
---
They reached the gates just as the guards opened the northern watchtower. A figure stood between the battlements, a cloak of stormcloud green rippling behind her.
The veiled woman.
"Lucien Darkmoor," she called. "And Seraphina, child of Yelena."
Lucien snarled. "State your name, sorceress."
"I am Queen Lyssaria of the Veil Court. First of the Poisoned Ones. And I've come for what is mine."
She raised her hand—and the guards collapsed, choking on invisible fumes.
Lucien leapt, shifting mid-air, black fur erupting across his skin.
Seraphina screamed his name.
But the queen vanished.
Not with a spell. With a whisper.
Gone.
---
They buried the guards by moonlight.
Lucien's fury crackled in the air like a storm barely held at bay. "She wants you. And she's willing to bleed my kingdom to get it."
"Why me?" Seraphina whispered.
Lucien turned. "Because you're the last Luna. And because your blood holds the power to unmake her."
Seraphina stared at the stars. The same stars her mother must've looked at long ago. The same stars that had watched a thousand wars.
She could feel it now. The war to come. The war she hadn't asked for.
But fate didn't ask.
It demanded.
And Seraphina had never been one to kneel.
"Then let her come," she said coldly. "Let the queen try to take what's mine."
Lucien smiled darkly. "She won't leave alive."