Filed To Story: The Perfect Luna by Marissa Gilbert
“A dirty and unnecessary part!” Vidar insisted. “You will not need the beast once we are married.”
So, he wanted her as weak as possible. That was that.
Just play along, Nova growled. Its not like we are going to marry him, anyway.
True, Astrea retracted her claws. I’d better die again.
Literally nothing else is worse than this man.
“I will think about it,” she said aloud and pursed her lips, wishing for the dinner to begin already so that the two of them didn’t have to talk anymore.
“You didn’t really think you’d be able to keep her,” her mate said. “If you ever wanted to get your divinity, you’d have to say goodbye to her anyway. Werewolves can’t be gods. It doesn’t work like that. Besides, what’s another wolf to you?
Your constant rebirths ensured each wolf spirit was dissipated later. Surely you knew that.”
She wanted to stab him with one of his fancy golden knives, but several servants appeared out of nowhere, pouring wine and removing dome lids from the golden dishes.
Astrea could feel how restless Nova was. They both refused to think about what her getting the divine powers back implied. The world needed her as Astraea, not just Astrea. But she needed Nova, her loyal companion.
Well figure something out, her wolf assured her. We always do.
Astrea hated this. No matter what she did or how hard she and Fenrir tried, someone they loved would end up hurt.
One of the servants brought a tray of bread for her, and she waved him off.
“Please, help yourself to anything you like-” Vidar gestured at the food, encouraging her to eat and clearly hoping for a change of subject. “Divine food tastes different. I am sure you remember. It’s been a while since you’ve been treated like the goddess that you are.”
“You’d be surprised,” Astrea’s words were laced with venom as she forgot who she was talking to for just a mere moment. “Fenir worshipped me whole just hours ago-“
The God of Vengeances eyes glowed intense red, and he moved so fast she didn’t have time to react before his palm wrapped around her neck, lifting her up in the air.
“You really shouldn’t have said that!” he hissed as she struggled against his grip. A mortal against a god.
Now Astrea knew how he had managed to kill her so many times. If just a few words were enough to make him attack her…
However, she refused to be the victim again. He took too much from her. From everyone she loved.
Not to mention that she was a whole different person now.
Hectically, she scanned the space around them and kicked the table with a glass goblet balancing on the edge in less than a second. She caught it and, not wasting time, splashed it in Vidar’s face, shocking him momentarily. His grip on her neck was still too tight, so she smashed the glass over the wooden edge and stabbed his hand with what was left of it, digging the glass as deep into his flesh as she could.
Vidar screamed, releasing his grip and letting her fall to the burnt ground, her beautiful white dress stained both with soot and his blood.
“You ungrateful b*tch!” He raised his arm, a fire sword appearing in it.
She knew that sword. She remembered it all too well, along with the metallic taste of blood in her mouth it gifted her
every encounter they had.
Astrea wanted to shove that sword up his arrogant as.s and grabbed as many ashes as she could fit into her palm, ready to throw it in his face for a distraction.
“Stop!” a resounding female voice interrupted them as their heads snapped toward the Moon Goddess.
***
“Excuse me?” Joran stared at his brother, arrogance replaced by confusion on his face.
“You heard me,” Fenrir taunted mercilessly. “Let’s not pretend you weren’t thinking about it, dreaming even.”
The Serpent’s jaw flexed, and he stood up, fists clenching.
“Even if I did, never in a million years would l imagine you of all the gods offering yourself on a silver platter like this.”
“So?” Fenrir let out a dark chuckle.
. “Does it taste better
when you lace it with betrayal, and I know nothing of it?”
Joran closed his eyes just for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Is that what you think of me?”
“Can you blame me?” The wolf god scoffed and stretched his neck, preparing for a fight. “I am shocked I still don’t have a knife in my back, considering my generous offer. Do I need to turn and pretend I don’t see it? Would that work for you?”
“I think I’ll pass.” Joran gritted his teeth and started walking towards the exit when Fenrir caught up with him and punched his jaw.
Hard.
The sound of cracking bones made Riannon flinch, and Gideon carefully tried to lead her as far away from the two divine siblings as possible. At the same time, Kara, Bash, Devoss and Warg watched them from different corners of the room, barely reacting to the show.
“Are you nuts?!” Joran seethed, spitting blood.
“Maybe I am just tired of letting you get away with everything. This was a long time coming.” Fenrir circled him just like a predator would do with his prey
“I am not playing this game! Not when Astrea-“
“You are not to speak her name!”
Another powerful blow, and Joran staggered, trying to keep his balance.
“I protected her for years!” The dragon wiped the blood away from his face. “Better than anyone ever before!”
“You tortured her more than Vidar did!” Fenrir growled, and that seemed to work because Joran charged at him, eyes glowing and claws elongating simultaneously.
“Take that back!” he yelled, trying to at least scratch his brother, but the wolf dodged each time, angering him more.
“It’s the truth!” the wolf deity snarled, secretly locking his gaze with Kara, who nodded promptly, signalling to him that this was enough. “Even that psychopath didn’t think of putting her in a silver pit!”
Fenrir froze just for a moment, and immediately, his sibling’s sharp claws sliced through his chest. For a whole moment, Joran felt how close his brother’s heart was to his fingertips, feeling the vibrations of its beats. So close… and so wrong.
He retracted his claws, stepping away. If Astrea saw him now, she would have attacked him herself. He knew that much.
The sound of something heavy hitting the floor brought him back to reality, and he turned on his heels to see Fenrir kneeling on the ground, his palm on his chest just where he had pierced him moments ago. Dark blood, the colour of the finest wine, was soaking through his fingers, and Joran’s lips parted in shock from the realisation that, for some reason, his brother was not regenerating
A half-smile playing on his lips made his stomach churn.
“What did you do?” The Serpent whispered in horror as it dawned on him that Fenir coughed blood, meaning something was fundamentally wrong with him.
Gideon Stormhold was about to move, but his wife stopped him, shaking her head.
They knew. They all knew.
“I can never leave her alone with that monster! Plan or no plan-” Fenrir confessed with a heavy sigh, and only then his friends charged towards him, catching him before he fell to the ground.
“You-” Joran’s mind was hectically trying to understand what was happening.
Fenri opened his palm to demonstrate the magical dust left after he activated one of his crystal beads.
“You stopped your own regeneration!” The dragon felt a surge of nausea, his head spinning. He guessed that part but still couldn’t see the reason behind it. How would this help Astrea?
“I’ve done more than that,” Fenrir chuckled. “I paused my immortality too.”
“What kind of ability is that?” Joran felt panic coursing through his veins. He had never met someone with such power before.
“The one I took it from considered it a curse,” his brother confessed. “Don’t you worry. There was only one bead like that. It was a rare gift.”
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?