Ethan stumbled through the palace corridor, the binding his wrists cold as ice against his skin. The faint click of Selene's heels echoed ahead of him, each step precise and unhurried. She moved without looking back, as though his presence were little more than an inconvenience.
"Slow down!" Ethan gasped, struggling to match her pace as the invisible force tugged him forward. "Where are you taking me?"
"To your quarters," Selene replied without turning. "You will remain there until the Night Court determines your fate."
"This is insane! I didn't ask to be here!" Ethan's voice rose with frustration, but the only response was the faint whisper of unseen air currents stirring the shadows that clung to the corridor walls.
They passed tall windows of silver-veined glass, through which Ethan glimpsed the distant city beyond the palace grounds—black spires and winding streets bathed in pale moonlight. No stars dotted the sky, only the vast, silver moon that seemed far too close, casting its cold light over a world that felt both ancient and utterly alien.
Finally, Selene stopped before a heavy wooden door carved with intricate patterns of interwoven thorns and crescent moons. With a faint whisper of power, the shadows binding Ethan vanished. He stumbled forward, catching himself against the stone wall as Selene opened the door and stepped aside.
"In here," she commanded.
Ethan hesitated, heart pounding. "What happens if I refuse?"
Selene's crimson gaze met his, cold and unwavering. "You have no choice, mortal. Defiance will only bring you pain."
Ethan swallowed hard, but the steel in her eyes left little room for argument. Gritting his teeth, he stepped into the room. The door closed behind him with a faint click, and the sound of Selene's footsteps faded down the corridor.
The room was larger than any apartment Ethan had ever known, but its grandeur did little to ease the tightness in his chest. Velvet curtains of midnight blue draped the tall windows, their heavy folds faintly illuminated by the silver moonlight beyond. A canopy bed with black silk sheets stood against the far wall, and an ornate fireplace of dark marble cast faint, flickering light across the polished floor.
Despite the luxury, the air felt... heavy. As though the very walls watched in silence.
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. "Okay... okay, think."
He crossed to the window and pressed his hand against the cold glass. The city stretched beyond the palace grounds, its distant streets illuminated by faint lanterns that burned with bluish-white flame. The spires of Umbra Noctis loomed like the bones of some ancient beast, and far below, Ethan caught glimpses of shadowed figures moving through narrow alleyways—swift, graceful shapes that vanished as quickly as they appeared.
"Is this... really happening?" he whispered.
A faint breeze stirred the curtains, though the window was sealed shut. Ethan stepped back, rubbing his arms against the chill that seemed to seep through his skin. The weight of exhaustion settled over him like a heavy cloak, but fear and adrenaline still pounded through his veins.
There had to be a way out.
Ethan crossed to the door and tried the handle—it didn't budge. He pressed his ear to the wood, but the corridor beyond was silent. With a frustrated sigh, he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair.
"Think, Ethan. There's gotta be a way out of this."
He scanned the room again, searching for anything that might help—hidden passages, loose stones, anything. But the walls were smooth and unyielding, and the heavy furniture offered no clues. Even the windows were sealed with invisible force, as though the very air outside pressed against the glass.
"Damn it..."
He collapsed onto the edge of the bed, head in his hands. The distant hum of unseen power still vibrated faintly through the floor beneath his feet—a constant reminder that this world was governed by forces beyond his understanding.
And somewhere in this labyrinth of shadows... Selene Duskborne watched.
Elsewhere within the palace...
Selene stood before a tall mirror of polished obsidian, her reflection gazing back with unreadable crimson eyes. The faint pulse of ancient wards hummed through the air, resonating with the distant heartbeat of the city beyond the palace walls.
The mortal's arrival had disrupted the careful balance of the Night Court—of that, there was no doubt. And yet... she could not shake the faint sense of unease that lingered in her thoughts.
How had he crossed the threshold?
No mortal had breached the veil between worlds in centuries. The ancient accords should have sealed such pathways beyond the reach of human hands. And yet, Ethan Gray had appeared in Umbra Noctis, unmarked by any spell or binding she could sense.
Selene's fingers traced the edge of the mirror, its surface cool as moonlight. The faint reflection of her father's throne room flickered briefly within the glass—then vanished, leaving only her own reflection staring back in silence.
He is a threat, she reminded herself. Nothing more. A danger to the balance between realms.
And yet...
Her fingers lingered against the glass, as though searching for something just beyond the mirror's surface.
Back in Ethan's room...
Sleep did not come easily. Ethan lay awake long after the faint flicker of the fireplace had faded to embers, his thoughts a restless tangle of fear, anger, and confusion. The faint hum of unseen power never fully faded, and the distant echoes of footsteps sometimes stirred the silence beyond the locked door.
When sleep finally claimed him, it brought no solace—only shadows.
Ethan stood upon the edge of a vast chasm, its depths lost in swirling mist. Above, the silver moon loomed impossibly large, its cold light reflecting faintly upon the jagged cliffs that framed the abyss.
Somewhere in the distance, faint whispers echoed through the mist—soft, indistinct voices that seemed to brush against the edges of his mind. Ethan strained to make out their words, but they dissolved into silence before he could grasp their meaning.
Then, from the depths of the chasm, a figure emerged—tall and slender, draped in midnight shadows that clung to her form like living silk. Her crimson eyes gleamed like distant stars as she stepped toward him, her presence both beautiful and terrifying.
"Selene...?" Ethan whispered.
The figure paused at the edge of the abyss, her gaze meeting his with unreadable intensity. The whispers rose again—fainter this time, as though carried upon a distant breeze.
Then, without warning, the ground beneath Ethan's feet crumbled. He fell into the abyss with a cry, the shadows swallowing his voice—
—and he awoke with a gasp, heart hammering in his chest.
The air of the room seemed colder than before. And though he was alone, Ethan could not shake the feeling that something unseen still lingered just beyond the edges of the firelight.