For three centuries, Mack Woods had been a ghost in more than just name.
The cottage he called home was tucked into the deepest, most suffocating folds of the forest surrounding the royal palace. While the other members of the Seven built sprawling estates or elegant villas to house their growing legacies and heirs, Mack had chosen a structure that felt less like a residence and more like a crypt. It was small, angular, and draped in shades of charcoal and obsidian. Inside, the light seemed to die before it could hit the floor.
He lived in the marrow of his own grief.
The trauma of that hour on the battlefield- the scent of jasmine and rain, the electric spark of Taylor's skin, and the sickening sight of her blood painting the grass, stayed with him like a permanent frost. He was a Lycan, an immortal being destined to pace the earth for millennia, and yet the Fates had tied his soul to a regular wolf. It was a cruel, statistical anomaly.
Lycans almost exclusively mated with their own kind or other high immortals to ensure their life spans aligned. Mack had been prepared to watch Taylor grow old while he remained frozen in his prime; he had been ready to love her through every wrinkle and grey hair. But the Moon Goddess, in her infinite, cold wisdom, hadn't even given him an afternoon.
He had become a scholar of silence. He read books by the hundreds, his eyes tracking lines of prose for days on end without him ever moving a muscle. He didn't eat, didn't sleep, and rarely turned visible. He was waiting for the clock of the universe to run down, waiting for the moment he could finally pass his title to Elizabeth and disappear for good.
But then came Selene.
Mack hadn't cared for the prophecies. He hadn't cared for the stirrings in the palace or the frantic energy radiating from Leo. He had stayed in his dark cottage, staring at the grey walls, until the trouble she brought with her became too loud to ignore. The war for her hand had dragged him out of his shell, forcing the "Ghost" to become a blade once more. And though he felt the hollow ache of his mate's absence every time he saw Leo look at Selene, his loyalty to the King remained his last tether to reality.
The morning after the Alphas had been sent packing, the air in the palace was still heavy with the scent of ozone and divine residue. Mack stood in the corner of King Leo's lavish office, his body and scent completely scrubbed from existence. To anyone else, the corner was empty. To the Seven, who knew the subtle pressure of his presence, he was a silent, watchful shadow.
The room was a study in clashing temperaments. Leah sat on the edge of a velvet chair, the rhythmic scritch-scritch of her nail file the only sound in the room. Her expression was one of polished boredom, a defense mechanism born of a century of being the "perfect" Lycan noblewoman. Beside her, Megan was a vibrating wire of energy, whispering at a mile a minute to John, who nodded with his usual stoic patience. Drew and Jax were huddled together, their voices a low, rumbling mumble as they debated the tactical failures of the recent siege.
And then there was Christian. He sat in the center of the room, his jaw set so tight it looked ready to shatter. His aura was a dark, brooding cloud of skepticism. He didn't trust the sudden influx of "miracles," and he didn't like how the world was shifting beneath his feet.
At the center of it all sat Leo. Behind his massive mahogany desk, the King looked more grounded than Mack had seen him in two hundred years. The madness that had plagued him- the hair-trigger temper and the predatory restlessness, had vanished, replaced by a terrifyingly calm focus.
Selene was perched directly on his lap, her back pressed against his chest. Leo's arms were wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.
It was a display of Lycan possessiveness so raw it would have been scandalous if it weren't so clearly necessary for Leo's sanity. Selene looked slightly flushed, her fingers nervously picking at the hem of her dress. She clearly hadn't fully adjusted to the "lap-sitting" phase of Lycan mating, but she didn't move away.
Leo cleared his throat, the sound vibrating through the room like a low-frequency hum. The Seven immediately fell silent.
"We have some new developments," Leo said, his green eyes flicking to the girl in his arms.
Selene gave a small, helpless shrug. "I mean... you guys already kind of saw the outburst. The whole 'floating in light' thing was a bit of a giveaway."
"I have so many questions!" Megan squealed, nearly launching herself out of her seat. "Are you really... Her? Like, the one we pray to when we want a mate and a good harvest?"
Selene bit her lip, her eyes darting toward Christian, who remained a statue of disapproval. "Well, I'll start with the basics. I am Mjesec- or Selene, as I am now. I am the Moon Goddess, and I'm here to... well, the goal was to bring the white wolves back to life." She said the last part with a rising inflection, as if she were asking a question.
"You don't sound entirely sure of your own mission, Goddess," Christian grumbled, his voice like grinding stones.
Selene sighed, the sound heavy with a weight that seemed too large for her small frame. "I'm only unsure because I feel like I need to do more than that. The white wolves are a start, a symbol of balance, but being down here... seeing the war, feeling the pain... I feel like there's a larger reason the Heavens let me fall."
"More?" Jax snorted, a short, sharp bark of a laugh. "Bringing an extinct race back from the dead is a hell of a Tuesday, Selene. What else is there? Ending death?"
Selene shrugged again, her pearlescent hair shimmering in the sunlight. "I don't know. I just feel like I'm meant to be a bridge. But the clock is ticking. I'm tied to this form now."
"You're planning on leaving?" Christian asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Not by choice," Selene explained. "I'm mortal in this body. I will live a Lycan's life, and when this body dies, I return to the Heavens. But the choice I made... it means once I go back, I can never return to Earth. Not like this. This is my one and only life among you."
"She had to choose," Leo added, his grip on her waist tightening almost imperceptibly. "Between being a physical part of our world or being a distant shadow in the sky. She chose the mud and the blood. She chose us."
The room went silent for a moment as the weight of that sacrifice settled. Mack, from his corner, felt a twinge of something he hadn't felt in years: respect. To give up the perfection of the stars for the messy, agonizing reality of Earth was a gamble only a fool or someone deeply in love would make.
"What was it like?" John asked, his voice quiet. "Up there? In the white light?"
Selene's expression softened, a faraway look entering her violet eyes. "It's hard to describe in words. It's not just a place; it's a state of being. Warm. Homey. Like the moment you realize you're safe after a long journey. It's a peace that doesn't exist down here."
"Then why come here at all?" Christian grumbled, leaning back and crossing his arms. "If the Heavens are so perfect, why bother with us mutts? Why suffer the cold and the hunger and the... the war?"
Leo let out a warning growl, the sound vibrating in the floorboards, but Selene simply rolled her eyes. She wasn't offended; she was the Goddess of these people, she knew their hearts better than they did.
"Among the reasons you all already know- the survival of the Lycans, the return of the white wolves, there was one deciding factor," Selene said. She took a deep breath, her voice turning melodic and ancient. "Long ago, the Goddess of Life came to me. She was a creator, a weaver of souls. She asked me if she could create the perfect man, but she wanted him to be wolfish in nature. A pinnacle of what a protector should be. She had made perfect counterparts for the other deities, and it was my turn to design a heart."
Mack watched Leo. The King had gone rigid. His muscles were bunched, and a flicker of green fire danced in his eyes. Jealousy- pure, unadulterated Lycan possessiveness, was beginning to leak from him like radiation.
"I told her I didn't care much for what he looked like," Selene continued, oblivious to Leo's growing tension. "The other deities focused on the aesthetic- the height, the jawline, the symmetry. I told her to focus on the spirit. I wanted someone with a personality that could anchor a Goddess. I wanted someone brave enough to defy even me, but kind enough to weep for a fallen bird. When he was finally made and placed upon the Earth, I watched him. I watched him from the Heavens for hundreds of years. My eyes never left him. I watched him grow, I watched him lead, I watched him suffer in his loneliness.
The silence in the room was now absolute. Even Leah had stopped filing her nails.
"Until one day," Selene whispered, her hand moving to rest over Leo's large hand on her waist. "I grew bored of just watching. I wanted to know the man personally. I wanted to hear his voice not as a prayer, but as a conversation. I tied his fate to mine with a thread of starlight to make him easier to find. I went to my celestial garden, told my family I was going to pick a flower, and I intentionally fell. I threw myself into the void so I could be reborn, just to walk beside him."
Leo's breath was coming in short, ragged bursts. The jealousy that had been bubbling in him was being replaced by a staggering, overwhelming realization. The room seemed to shrink around them.
"Who is he?" Jax asked, leaning forward, his voice barely a whisper. "Who is the man a Goddess fell for?"