Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 27: Chapter 27

The fire between Seraphina and Lucien had long since turned to ash.
Or so she’d thought.
Now, in the hush of the library, as moonlight spilled through stained-glass windows and dust hung like motes of memory in the air, Seraphina felt the embers stir again—dangerous, lingering, and unresolved.
Lucien stepped forward, his gaze never leaving hers.
“I’ve watched you rise from death, claim a kingdom, fight like a goddess. But here,” he touched his chest, “you never left.”
Seraphina drew a slow breath. “You betrayed me, Lucien. You vanished when I needed you. You broke me.”
He flinched. “I know. But I’ve come to make it right.”
The Door Opens
The library door creaked.
Darian stood in the threshold, his shoulders rigid, eyes dark with rage—and something deeper.
Possessiveness.
Jealousy.
Fear.
His voice was quiet, lethal. “I see the ghosts are coming out tonight.”
Lucien turned with a smirk. “Not a ghost. Just a man who knew her before the ashes.”
“Before she was reborn,” Darian said, stepping into the room. “Before she bled for this kingdom. Before she carried our children—before she became everything.”
Lucien raised a brow. “And yet… you were never her first.”
Seraphina’s voice cracked like a whip. “Enough.”
Both men froze.
A Storm Inside
She looked at Lucien, her expression torn between old wounds and hard-won peace.
“You left when I needed you most. When I was hunted, betrayed, shattered. You didn’t come back—not when I lost my children, not when I died. You stayed gone.”
“I was cursed, Seraphina,” Lucien said, pain flickering in his eyes. “Exiled to the shadow realms. I clawed my way back through nightmares for you.”
She looked away. “You were still gone.”
Darian stepped forward. “You don’t get to come back now and act like she owes you anything.”
Lucien’s grin sharpened. “And you think you earned her, Darian? I’ve seen your scars. But I knew her fire before she learned how to wield it.”
Alpha vs Alpha
In a blink, Darian lunged.
Lucien met him halfway, the crash of their bodies shaking books loose from ancient shelves. Fangs bared, claws drawn, their wolves surged to the surface—alpha power colliding like thunderclaps in the confined space.
Seraphina unleashed her aura—molten heat and raw power that split the floor between them.
“STOP!” she roared, flames coiling through her hair.
Both wolves froze, panting, snarling.
“I am not a prize,” she said coldly. “I don’t belong to either of you. If you want to stay in my court, you will not fight over me like feral dogs.”
Lucien bowed slightly, but his silver eyes held defiance. “I’ll wait. I always have.”
Darian didn’t bow. He turned to Seraphina, breathing hard, his voice hoarse.
> “I didn’t fight for you just now.
I fought for us.
Because I love you.
And I won’t lose you to someone who didn’t bleed beside you.”
Then he left.
Beneath the Moon
Later that night, Seraphina stood on the castle balcony, staring at the twin moons above the pines.
Lucien approached slowly, a respectful distance between them.
“Do you regret loving me?” he asked.
“I regret who you became,” she said, voice soft. “But I don’t regret us. You taught me to burn. Darian taught me how to heal.”
Lucien nodded. “I’ll stay as long as I’m welcome. I won’t interfere. But I won’t pretend I stopped loving you.”
Then he vanished into the shadows.
In the Quiet
Seraphina found Darian outside the stables, sharpening his blade.
“I’m not leaving,” she said.
“I never asked you to,” he replied.
She knelt beside him. “You’re not second to anyone. You’re my present, my future… my flame.”
He turned, eyes softening. “Even when he’s near?”
“Especially then.”
He kissed her, slow and fierce.
And that night, in the heart of the castle, they reminded each other what it meant to choose love—even in the face of the past.