44. Time Makes Monsters

Selene believed herself to be a reasonable wolf.
“I disagree,” Sienna growled.
“Fine.” Selene ushered the Sun female out of her room herself, patting her cheek with a roguish smile, tongue caught between her teeth. Sienna curled her lip. “I’ll be *unreasonable*, if you see me adamantly so. I’ll rephrase: I will confront Kiran at a reasonable *time*. How does around noon sound? I do enjoy a filling breakfast before I carve warpaths.”
Disgusted, the Delta jerked her head away. “You’re demented.”
Selene shrugged, her smile turning sweet. Lona offered her a glass of wine. The alcohol helped her sleep. The dream had her rattled and she would never admit it. Not breaking eye contact with the Delta, blue clashing with gold, she sipped delicately. “Monsters live in the dark, Sienna.”
At this Sienna’s eyes sparked and offered a fanged smile herself. “They live in the day, too.”
Selene’s snapped off and she crushed her flute with an explosion of glass. It made Sienna smugly satisfied at riling the Luna. “Don’t look so proud, gold bitch, I am aware of all your monsters.”
“I’m sure you do.”
*Does she know about Altan and Elio?* Selene wondered grimly. It was a Delta’s job to weed out the unfaithful.
Selene shook off the glass shards, blood warm and dripping from her skin to the carpet. The pain was distant and irrelevant. Demented? A monster? Of course she was. She lived forever. How many lives had she watched end—slowly, at once, by nature and by murder—and how much time did it take to accept that death would always be nipping at her feet?
Time made monsters of them all.
“Is this where our stalemate ends?” Selene sighed, again accepting Lona’s offer. The blue handkerchief grew darker with blood. “I grow bored. Let’s not measure our ferocity as males measure their manhood. It’s vulgar.”
Sienna snorted and rolled her eyes. Selene’s jaw tightened at the disrespect. “Fine. Take this win. I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow when I’m dragging your limp body off Keep land.”
“Best of luck. Lona.”
Her Delta looked at her with a knitted brow. “Luna, I can stay with you—”
“No. See her to the border.”
Lona remained concerned but obeyed, barking at Sienna to keep walking. Selene shut and locked the door before dropping her forehead onto it so it sent a dull pain through her skull. Yes, pain was easy. To feel, to inflict.
“Godsdamnit,” she hissed under her breath. “Godsdamn you, Kiran Cyrus.”
A wind stirred through her room and even that annoyed her. She turned her head to the window and then to her desk—to the bottom left drawer. A heavy breath left her lungs. *Don’t do it*, she growled at herself.
*Fuck you*, she told herself as she padded to sit in the desk chair. The wood groaned when she pulled the drawer open. A stack of worn paper, yellowed with age, black words smudged with old tears of rage. Selene’s chest tightened when she reached underneath it. When her fingers brushed the old wood frame, she gasped and retracted her hand as if it burned her.
“Just do it, you coward,” she hissed. She hadn’t looked at the portrait in fifty years. Her fingertips were already gray with dust. Gazing upon it now would do nothing but fuel her hurt more. “No. Fuck it.”
Selene slammed the drawer shut. No use digging up the past when it was now the future.
Lona chose for her a slip she didn’t care much for in case she lost her temper and Shifted. It was nearly sheer and a deep blue, of course. They indeed had a filling breakfast. Food was shared but words were not despite Lona’s not-so-subtle stare. Selene preferred to save her store of words to throw at Kiran.
She left out the balcony to avoid any interaction. No one needed to know their Luna was leaving the Castle.
The slip didn’t hinder her running. She bolted through her rowan trees and the rest of the forest until it became an orchard. The Crystal River split through the Alphas’ territories, existing in Selene’s as a pond; she followed its snaking body to Apollo’s Keep. The sun was nearing noon and it was a gorgeous day. Though she preferred night, even she admitted that sunbathing wouldn’t be so bad. But only with good company.
Cresting the last hill, the Keep’s backside loomed ahead. Selene stopped to scan the spawning landscape before her. Then stiffened.
Seff. She was lounging on a blanket at the edge of the shore. The white hair and pale skin could have been any Magnolia, but Kiran wouldn’t be *romancing* anyone but her.
Because of course the fucker was lying next to her. She swore she could see his smile from one hundred feet away. Thoughts raced faster than her legs did, but when she heard Seff’s voice, a supernatural strength shot into her muscles.
*“Start with soulmates after death.”*
“*What* after *what*?!” Selene roared.
Seff Bleize whirled toward her, and Selene barely caught herself from tripping over her own feet. She was beautiful and her expression was *hopeful*. *Excited*. To see *her*. Selene located the Magnolia’s heartbeat and felt it sync with her own.
She was okay. Good.
Time to take care of Kiran.
She didn’t stop running until there were only inches between her and her counterpart, which was filled with an accusing forefinger. And only because he put himself between her and Seff. “Kiran, you fucking bastard!”
The gold god—gold eyes blazing like summer noon, gold hair tousled, gold skin clean and taut over muscle—glared as if trying to set her on fire. “How many times do you feel the need to trespass my territory, Selene?” he roared back.
“To make up however many you breach my harem!” In her peripheral, she glimpsed Seff’s face—half-hidden by Kiran’s arm holding her back. There was no sign of Sienna or way to know if she actually warned Kiran. “You let her be *attacked*?!”
Selene heard Seff’s heart skip a beat. She grabbed Kiran’s sleeve and demanded, “What?”
“Seff,” Kiran barked in warning.
She ducked under the Alpha’s arm and stumbled a few steps away from both immortals. The young female was wearing a white dress with a magnolia flower on it; it was pretty, Selene admitted, but it wasn’t blue or black, therefore it was irrelevant. Selene—and Kiran, damn him—reached for her instinctively.
*Let me comfort you*, Selene pleaded. *Let me take you away from here. From him.*
But Seff held up a defiant hand. “No. Don’t get any closer. Selene…what are you doing here?”
Her voice was hard at first, expression harsh. But when it softened at Selene’s name, Selene herself softened. Beside her, Kiran looked ready to implode. She didn’t give a shit. “I came to see if you were alright. Kiran sent a letter telling me you were attacked by some of your own pack?”
Seff extended her right leg; the calf was wrapped in gauze. The blood was dark and dried. “Just a bite,” she said reassuringly. “It’s healed now.” Before either could compete to unwrap the gauze, she unspooled it herself. Underneath more dried blood, unmarred flesh proved the quick healing of werewolves. “So no need to worry.”
Sufficiently assured, thank the gods, Selene bombarded Kiran, “Are they banished yet? Did the one die? Did the other one fuck well?”
Kiran bared his teeth viciously at her. “They are leaving today. No. No.”
Smugness inflated her chest and she simpered, “Sounds like you handled it well, yellow bastard.”
“*Yellow*?!” he bellowed. “You—”
Selene was fully prepared to embrace his temper, but Seff interrupted,
“Can I…visit her? For a little while?”