Chapter 2 The Girl Who Was Chosen

. # **Chapter Two**

**The Girl Who Was Chosen**

> *"Not all who wear crowns are queens. And not all who shine are stars."* > -From *The Oracle's Ledger*, House of Moonlight ---

The palace bells tolled in silver tones as Seraphina stood at the edge of the Skybalcon, staring out over the frost-tipped treetops of the eastern woods. She wore white. Not by custom-but by demand. A gown woven from gossamer threads and moon-spun silk, embroidered with tiny wolves racing along the hem. It shimmered in the light like frost under moonlight, and it itched. Seraphina didn't complain. She never did. Her hands rested, perfectly folded, over her stomach. The howls had begun again last night. Not the usual kind. Not restless or celebratory. This time, they sounded like grief and warning tangled together. Her wolf, Lyra, stirred uneasily beneath her skin. *Something is changing.* Seraphina knew. She had felt it in the tremble of the wind. In the way the moonlight flickered for a heartbeat over the sacred stone garden last night. In the dream that had come uninvited-the one she had never dared speak aloud. In the dream, there were **two girls** standing beneath a blood moon. One in gold. One in ash. One holding fire. The other holding nothing. Only one was chosen. --- "Seraphina," came a voice behind her. She turned to see her mother, Lady Isolde, entering the balcony chamber in a long crimson cloak. The High Alpha's consort. Regal. Remote. Revered. "You're needed in the Inner Court. The elders are preparing the blessing ceremony." "For my birthday?" "For your *union*," her mother corrected, voice clipped. "The Lycan King's arrival is in three nights. He'll make the bond official during the Moon Binding. Everything must be perfect." "Of course." Seraphina inclined her head, heart pounding quietly beneath her ribs. She had been preparing for this her entire life. The prophecy. The mark. The fated bond. She bore the red wolf in full-a perfect silhouette on her upper thigh. Not broken like the child born in whispers, decades ago, or so the old rumors said. No, she was whole. Chosen. And yet... There was that **dream** again. That ash-eyed girl. That howl she had heard last night that **wasn't from anyone in the palace.** --- As Seraphina walked into the Inner Court, the elders bowed low. Flanked by marble statues and moon-laced pillars, the chamber glowed with quiet power. The High Oracle stood in the center, dressed in layered veils that shimmered as she moved. "Princess Seraphina," she said softly. "The moon stirs with unrest. We must read the stars again." "Why?" Seraphina asked, trying not to bristle. "The prophecy is... realigning." The words struck her like frost to the throat. "*Realigning?*" Her voice remained calm, but her wolf twisted inside her. "It has sensed another," the Oracle continued. "Another marked under the same moon. A shadow that does not yet know its light." Seraphina's fingers twitched. "That's not possible. The prophecy said one would bear the sign. One would be chosen." "Prophecies don't lie," murmured Elder Cern. "But they do **shift**. Especially when the Goddess tests our worth." There was silence. Seraphina kept her spine straight. She would not falter. She would not doubt. "Then let me prove myself," she said. "Let me finish the rites. Let the Lycan King see my strength." "He will," the Oracle said with a strange softness. "But destiny is no longer simple. And the bond may surprise us all." --- That night, she went to the sacred moonpool alone. It was forbidden to enter it without ceremony, but Seraphina had always obeyed the rules-and tonight, she did not care. The waters glowed silver. Reflection rippling with faint shimmer. She knelt, placing her palm into the water. "*Show me.*" Her voice cracked. "*Show me the girl. The threat. The curse.*" The water stilled. And then- A flash. A face. A girl with tangled dark hair. Eyes wide. A glowing **mark** on her back. And standing across from her-**him**. The Lycan King. His eyes lit not with confusion... but with recognition. Seraphina staggered back, breath shaking. "No," she whispered. "That's not the girl from the stories. *I* am. I've trained. I've bled. I've-" The pool gave no answer. Only moonlight and silence. --- She stormed back to her chambers, heart slamming like a beast in a cage. The gown felt suffocating now. The legacy-too heavy. The world-too unsure. But as she stood before her mirror, her eyes caught the reflection of the mark on her thigh. The wolf glowed faintly. "Mine," she whispered, pressing her hand over it. She wouldn't let some forest-born, nameless girl ruin this. The prophecy was hers. The throne was hers. The bond was hers. And if fate tried to twist it away? She would twist fate right back. --- **Meanwhile, deep in the woods...** Elara sat awake beside Mira's sleeping form. The herbs had helped, but the old woman's breathing was still uneven. Outside, the wind howled. But beneath the wind... Elara heard something else. A hum. Low. Steady. Ancient. It was **in her blood**. Like something had awakened. Something that had waited eighteen years for her to rise. And in the distance, the moon began to shift- **Darkening into red.** ---