THE FADING LIGHT
Vivienne's POV
The guards threw me back into the dungeon, the heavy gate slamming shut behind me. My arms ached from their grip, but I ignored the pain.
While Balthazar lost himself in another lucid daydream, I'd managed to sneak a few pieces of fruit and chunks of bread into the folds of my new dress. My stomach growled, but I wasn't the only one starving down here.
The old woman in the next cell stirred as I crouched. Her wrinkled hands wrapped around the iron bars, eyes watching me closely.
"Here," I whispered, sliding a small apple through the gap.
She shook her head. "You and the girl need it more."
I glanced at the frail girl, still curled in the corner where I'd left her. She hadn't moved much. Her skin was cold now, breaths too shallow. I didn't know how long she had been here, but it was clear she was slipping away.
I forced a bite of warm bread down my throat, then inched closer to the girl, nudging her. "You have to eat."
She didn't react. Lips cracked, eyes half-open but vacant. I tore off a piece of fruit and pressed it's juices into her mouth. Nothing.
Panic twisted inside me. I'd seen enough death to know its signs and I didn't want to see it again. Not here, not now.
A lump formed in my throat as I watched her fade. My fists clenched. Was this it? Another soul lost? My father, my mother, my pack and now her—someone I didn't even know, but couldn't bear to lose.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memories rushed in. Fire. Screams. My parent's dead bodies, beheaded and laid to waste on the dirt floor. My mother's soft voice, whispering words I could no longer recall.
My breath caught, and a sob cracked out of me. I had buried it deep. But here, in the dark, there was nothing else to think of or do.
I wasn't just alone. I was broken. A changeling without a wolf. My own nature had turned its back on me. What was I if I didn't even belong to myself?
The girl's breath rattled. I reached for her hand, held it tightly. "Please," I whispered. "Stay."
But she was already more than halfway gone.
The only sound in the cell was her uneven breathing and the occasional drip of water from somewhere beyond. She grew colder by the minute, trembling, lips dry, the wound on her ribs reeking of decay. Flies had started to gather.
I had nothing. No herbs, no healer. Just me and I wasn't enough.
I dragged her gently to a corner, away from the filth. She barely stirred. The dress Balthazar had given me—clean, elegant, felt like a mockery in this place. I tore strips from the hem, wrapped them around her like a makeshift blanket.
It wasn't enough.
I sat across from her, knees pulled to my chest. My own ribs ached. I didn't even know her name. She'd been here long before me, her body wasting away in silence.
She didn't deserve this.
No one did.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "Please," I whispered. "Don't go."
Still, no response. Her sunken eyes closed, her breaths raspy and dry, like brittle leaves in the wind.
Another memory hit me. My friends laughing, training together. Alive until they weren't. Slaughtered in their sleep. My aunt's newborns… would they have survived?
I had never let myself grieve. I hadn't had the time.
But now, watching another life slip through my hands—I couldn't hold it back.
Tears blurred my vision. My shoulders trembled. A sob ripped free, jagged and raw.
"I don't want to be alone," I whispered. "Not again."
I tilted my head up, searching the stone ceiling for a glimpse of the moon. I knew it was out there somewhere.
"Selmara," I whispered. "If you're listening… I know you're up there. Help me. Please. Do not abandon me."
Nothing.
Just silence.
I sat still, curled in my dress, gripping the fabric like it could anchor me. My body trembled. I wanted to scream, tear at the walls, fight something—anything.
Then, a cough. Weak. Barely there.
And then warmth.
It spread from my chest like light behind a cloud. Not fire, not rage. Something… softer. Like a touch over my heart.
I gasped. My skin prickled.
The air shifted. Thickened.
My wolf—the one that had been distant for so long—stirred. Not in anger. Not in fear but in recognition.
I wasn't alone. Not anymore.
I opened my eyes.
The dungeon hadn't changed. Still dark and still damp but something had.
I felt it.
A presence. Feminine. Old. Watching.
Selmara?
I didn't know how I knew. I just did.
I reached for the girl. Pressed my hand to her ice cold skin. The warmth in me pulsed, spreading through my arms and fingertips.
It was instinct. Nothing more. No training, no reason.
Just… faith.
A faint glow bloomed under my hands. Soft blue, like moonlight. Barely there. But the moment it touched her, she stilled.
Her breath evened.
Her face eased.
I held perfectly still, afraid to break whatever spell had fallen over us.
The warmth stayed. Not overwhelming just steady. Safe.
I leaned down, resting my forehead to hers.
"Stay with me," I whispered.
The color returned to her cheeks. Her breathing calmed. For the first time since I'd found her, she looked peaceful.
I swallowed hard, hands still on her brow. The glow had dimmed, but the warmth remained.
I knew what this was.
I knew who had answered.
I looked up toward the ceiling again. Toward the moon I couldn't see.
And I whispered,
"O Selmara, guardian of the lost,
I see your hand in this, your mercy in her breath.
You have touched the dying and pulled her back.
For this, I give you my thanks."
The girl stirred. Her fingers moved, reaching.
I tightened my grip on her hand.
"O Selmara, keeper of fates,
I doubted, I feared, I thought I was alone.
But here, in this darkness, you have shown me light.
I will not forget. I will not turn away.
Guide me, and I will follow."
A breath escaped me.
The glow faded but the warmth did not.
She was alive and for the first time in what felt like forever—so was I.