The Rise of the Fallen Luna

Selene's POV.

Eliah’s eyes went wide with panic. The glow from the feather was gone.

That could only mean one thing: it had reached its recipient.

Her lips curled in rage. “No… no, no, no—”

She lunged at me and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back so hard my scalp burned.

“Who did you send it to, huh?! Tell me! TELL ME!” she shrieked.

I glared into her eyes and spat on her face.

“You little—!”

She shoved me to the floor, and my knees scraped against the cold marble. Her hand lifted, ready to slap me across the face.

“HELP!” I screamed, my voice raw with desperation. “SOMEONE—!”

Her eyes widened at the sound of footsteps.

Panic seized her.

On instinct, she snatched the silver tray from my bedside table.

And before I could understand what she was doing—she slammed it into her own forehead.

The sound was sickening. Blood immediately began to trickle from the wound.

The door burst open.

Damon. Thorne. Dalia. Damon’s parents. And a stranger—someone I’d never seen before, with intelligent, suspicious eyes.

Damon froze for a split second at the chaotic scene. Then he remembered himself.

There were witnesses.

He rushed toward me. “Selene! Are you okay? What happened?” He shouted, loud and theatrical.

But as he leaned in and grabbed my arms, his lips brushed my ear and whispered coldly:

“What the hell did you do, my Eliah? You’ll pay for this.”

Behind him, Eliah collapsed dramatically, sobbing with fake tremors.

“I—I was just worried about her!” she cried. “We grew up in the same orphanage, and I thought she might be hurting… But she screamed at me! She was afraid I’d take Damon from her—so she threw the tray at me!”

I stared in disbelief as her performance continued.

Damon turned back to me, his expression full of concern, but his eyes narrowed with warning. “Is it true?” he asked sweetly.

I opened my mouth to answer—but someone beat me to it.

“That doesn’t seem likely,” the unfamiliar man said, his voice calm and sharp. “Your wife doesn’t look like she could throw a tray, Mr. Moonvil. She’s barely conscious.”

All eyes turned to him.

Even Eliah stilled.

“I’m Mr. Varkas,” he added. “Here on behalf of the Council to assess the health of the Luna and the child. And frankly—this doesn’t look right.”

My heart pounded.

Hope. It flickered for the first time in days.

But Dalia scoffed, loud and mocking.

“You’ve got it backward, Mr. Varkas. Eliah is the kindest woman in this entire kingdom we've known. That girl? She’s an Arkwell. That blood is cursed. We should be asking what she did.”

Mr. Varkas turned to me, his eyes narrowing.

“You’re… an Arkwell?”

I felt the shame crawling up my spine. I couldn’t lie. I nodded.

Disgust twisted his face. “No wonder.”

The hope I felt shriveled instantly.

I looked away, teeth clenched, nails digging into my palms.

But then—he surprised me.

“Even so,” he said firmly, “you should treat her with more dignity. She’s bearing the chosen moon child. If this is how you treat its mother, what will that say when the child rules us one day?”

Felicity’s saccharine smile returned. “Don’t worry, we’ll teach her her place. Come along, now. We have more important matters to discuss.”

Dalia sneered at me as she followed her aunt and uncle. Mr. Varkas spared me a last glance—less cruel, more calculating—before exiting too.

Thorne lingered at the door. His eyes held pity. But when Damon shot him a warning glance, he looked away and left.

And then it was just Damon.

Eliah.

And me.

Damon’s hand shot out and wrapped around my throat.

I gasped, clawing weakly at his arm. I was too dazed, too weak.

Damon’s hand shot out and wrapped around my throat.

I gasped, clawing weakly at his arm. I was too dazed, too weak.

He leaned down, his voice venomous. “You dared humiliate her. You ruined everything.”

Eliah stood behind him, crying dramatically for effect, but her eyes glinted with triumph.

“She scratched me,” she sobbed. “She pushed me. I thought she was going to kill me.”

Damon’s eyes burned into mine. “Enough. I’m done. At midnight, you're going to have surgery. I won’t let you threaten Eliah or my heir again.”

“No!” I choked out, my voice shaking. “S-Santino… my brother… he’s coming tomorrow. If you kill me now, the world will know—!”

Damon sneered, tightening his grip before shoving me back. “Even if the world knows you died in surgery, what could they do? We’ll say we had to operate because your condition was critical. Because we tried to save you. Poor Selene.”

His voice dripped with malice.

I shook my head, struggling to breathe through the crushing despair. “No… he’s coming. My brother will stop you—”

Damon chuckled cruelly. “Do you really think your precious brother will make it back in time?”

The words froze in my throat.

“What… what did you do to my brother?” My voice trembled.

“I set a bounty on his head,” Damon said coldly. “A generous one. And let’s be honest… everyone out there would love to be the one to take down an Arkwell.”

My breath hitched.

My vision blurred—not just from the pain or the blood on my face, but from the fear curling into every bone.

They were going to kill me. And now… maybe my brother too.

Damon turned away, gently guiding Eliah like she was something fragile. She leaned on him dramatically, still playing her part. From over his shoulder, she looked back at me with the softest, sweetest smile.

Triumphant.

The door shut behind them with a sharp click.

And I was left trembling, barely able to lift my own body.

W-What should I do...?