Chapter 263 – The Luna Trials Novel by Marissa Gilbert

Filed To Story: The Perfect Luna by Marissa Gilbert

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she lowered her head, her voice shaky. “We aren’t mates.

“Did you stop loving him then?” Savvy tilted her head curiously. anymore.”

It was the most obvious question in the whole damn world, but for the first time, Brigit had to admit it, at least to herself.

She’s never stopped loving Aspen. In fact, she only loved him more with each passing day: Mate bond or no mate bond. She did not need a magical pull to tell her that he was the one for her.

It was a whole different story for him, though.

“He probably hates me, and rightfully so,” she whispered, eyes downcast.

“He wants to hate you,” Savannah tried to explain, choosing her words carefully, “But each time he woke up in agony while he was healing, it was your name on his lips.”

A quiet little sob escaped Brigit’s chest, and the Lycan Queen stepped closer to shield her from anyone else observing them.

“If you love him, truly love him, you will fight for him. And you will earn his trust back,” she said, giving the she bear’s hands a tight squeeze. “I am not promising that it’s going to be easy, but ”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Brigit interrupted her friend. Yes, now she could call Savvy that. A friend. “If there is at least the tiniest chance of him loving me again—”

“He never stopped,” Savvy grinned, but the grin slowly turned into a snarl. “However, Brigit, hurt him one more time, and I will personally send the whole northern army for you!”

“I won’t!” the werebear chuckled. “I-”

“Save those words for him,” Savvy let go of her and turned on her heel, looking over her shoulder. “He is the one who needs to hear them.”

Joran did not want to come back.

At first.

But as the world he worked so hard to build started to crumble, the memories of an insolent boy who did not want to be tamed flashed before his eyes, awakening something he was sure was long dead.

The Dragon God felt his Champion d*ie while he was on his way to chase his favourite Dragonfly, infuriated that the war so carefully planned was ruined by his brother, who wasn’t even supposed to be there.

What was Fenrir thinking? They had a deal! He wasn’t supposed to meddle in Joran’s business anymore.

So, when that wolf decided to bless everyone too and ruin the last remaining advantage of the bear army, it enraged Jormungandr.

It infuriated him so muci: that he’d made a mistake with Bjorn, leading to him taking his anger out on his Champion.

Of course, the bear was invincible. He’d given him one of the most precious powers out there. When the dragon had thrown him away, Bjorn was supposed to be fine. Nothing could K*ll him.

Yet something did. Or someone. After all, Fenrir was there. It could have been him, and if it was indeed the Alpha God, then he would pay for this.

To his own shock and resentment, the Serpent regretted his fit of anger. The boy was foolish, but it was partially Joran’s fault for persuading the Moon Goddess to link him with the Western Princess. What seemed like a great idea at the time did not work out so well in the end. He should have arranged their meeting earlier, but it was impossible to predict that she would fall in love with the Northern Lycan King and then choose him over both of her true mates. That had never happened before. It was a stipid mistake to not interfere and also partially his Dragonfly’s fault… She had distracted him and held him back during crucial moments.

It hurt him more than he’d expected to feel Darius’ death. With all his flaws, the boy was promising, and Joran spent years mentoring him. It was one of the reasons the Serpent had once switched sides from his father to him. Bjorn looked like he would be able to finish the job and break both powerful Lycan Kingdoms once and for all.

Initially, the deity did not plan to come back for his body. Bjorn failed him, and it was reckless to return to where Fenrir could appear again. After all, his motives were unknown and it was too early to test his brother. Joran wasn’t ready for that yet. It would require even more elaborate planning before they could meet. And if Fenrir wouldn’t withdraw when that day came, Joran would have to K*ll him.iSomething he should have done years ago if he was honest with himself. However, there was something he needed Fenrir to do before his death. And when it was done, it would finally give Joran exactly what he wanted..

The deity tried to ignore the ugly, heavy feeling that scratched him from the inside, making his heart ache. He didn’t think he was capable of these emotions anymore, but even he had to admit that he did not want to leave Bjorn to rot in the lands he couldn’t conquer. The White Bear King deserved more.

When he arrived at the scene, the Northerners were lucky to have already departed. The dragon deity would have destroyed anyone in his way because he was still in that state of mind where he had to admit that everything had gone wrong. He hadn’t lost for a few hundred years already. And it tasted just as bitter as he remembered.

Locating Bjorn in all that snow wasn’t problematic for him, he could feel the remnants of his own energy at the end of the frozen river far too well. His Champion was washed ashore and then buried under piles of snow that Joran melted with a wave of his hand to see him clearly. The melting caused his newly injured eye to bleed again, only a small wooden hilt was poking out of it.

“Mistletoe,” Joran gritted out, not knowing whether to laugh or level these mountains to rubble. How did they guess? Who told them? This was literally one of only two things that could K*ll Bjorn. All this time, he’d feared him meeting the Northern Lycan King in battle, but it had to be this stupid twig that K*lled him.

No. He was not ready to accept that.

It would set him back in his plan, it would drain his powers, already weakened by recent events, but he would not let his Champion go out this way.

Not letting himself think twice, Joran knelt next to Bjorn and wrapped his hands around the little dagger. At least the mistletoe did not let the body decay as it was a magical death. So, he had plenty to work with.

Ideally, he would have wanted to return Bjorn in time to a moment where he could have changed all the recent events. It worked so well for the Moon Goddess with the one she chose to bless. The Goddess’ desperation made him laugh back then. Well, karma, indeed was a b!tch, and now he was in a similar situation.

However, that plan had one significant flaw. It would drain him even more, making him vulnerable, and he’d already used so much of his strength. He needed to restore himself first, so his options were limited for now.

Joran looked at his Champion one last time. Now he was missing both eyes, but again… the deity could work with that. For now, just one spark of life would be enough. He would have to think of the rest later.

Placing his hand on Bjorn’s chest, he shared with him one more speck of his divine power, giving him a piece of his own soul. An irrevocable act.

And just like that… Darius’ heart started beating again.

It was a long way to recovery, though. Luckily, werebears were not new to hibernation and this was the state Joran put him in for the moment.

The Serpent knew that it was better to take the bear away from here to safety. His time would come again. He would ensure that.

Shifting into his dragon form, he took Bjorn’s unconscious body into his claws and spread his wings, charging into the sky, slashing the air with his enormous wings.

The tall gleaming buildings of the Southern Republic were already visible when Joran turned in a slightly different direction.

He took his Champion to the island, where he trained his Dragonflies, watching neat lines of firstborns exercising before he landed.

A few of his highest ranking warriors arrived instantly to greet their master and looked at Bjorn lying at his feet questioningly, probably a*s*suming that he was some kind of prisoner. No one here knew about the one he chose as his Champion. That knowledge wouldn’t do any good to them.

“I want him healed,” Joran announced. He was about to leave when he added, “He is important, so… take good care of him.”

That startled his subordinates, but none of them would think to question him, so they stayed silent.

This was why Joran wasn’t used to disobed*ience.

His mood was still sour when he reached his luxurious quarters, so he went straight to his bar and poured himself the strongest mead he had at his disposal when he heard a chuckle.

“Hard day?” The last person he wanted to see now, other than his brother, turned out to be sitting in his chair. Forrest, the senior member of the Alpha Convocation of the Southern Republic and the one who loved to oppose him at every opportunity imaginable, smirked at him.

“Are you lost?” Joran gritted his teeth. “This is my domain. I’d be careful here if I were you.”

“With all due respect, Chairman, we needed you at the latest session,” the Southerner was not impressed by what was clearly a warning. “There is chaos after the defeat of our plan, and your absence is not helping.”

“Why is there chaos, Principal Chairman? Isn’t it your job not to let that happen?” Joran chuckled darkly, taking a sip of his drink and feeling his powers slowly start restoring. Sadly, too slow for his needs. “We didn’t take part in this war, after all. What do we care?”

“You know that we care if the West and the North are growing and cooperating,” Forrest stood up. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the deity brushed him off, “Nothing will help them when I am done with them.”

“The plan was not to use the Southern army,” the Alpha reminded him.

“The plan was to weaken the enemy without revealing ourselves. And we did just that,” Joran reminded him.

“You have revealed yourself, though.” Forrest poked at his wound.

“The deity in me revealed himself, but Jordan Nathair remained untouched in this mess.”

“And how about your brother? Will he be a problem?” The lycan kept pushing him to his limits.

“He will not,” Joran replied. “And you should stop meddling in my business. Go back to the Southern Republic and play your role until my return. Do some damage control and offer the North and the West some humanitarian help which they will, of course, decline. I have quite a few ideas of whom we should engage into this next to finish what we started.”

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