Filed To Story: The Perfect Luna by Marissa Gilbert
“You look divine, my love,” he said, leaning down to her to remove her veil.
“No,” she whispered, her tone begging and eyes desperate.
Beautiful brown eyes…
The realisation came crashing down on him like a thunderstorm on a tranquil day. Astraea’s eyes were divine blue…
He yanked the woman closer to him, causing the magic on her face to dissipate and reveal the much plainer features of a young, terrified girl.
“Who are you?” he growled at her, tears streaming down her face.
“I did not want to!” she stammered. “She made me! I-It was some kind of spell! Please!”
“Where is she?” He asked menacingly, ready to kill the imposter.
The Halls of Valhalla burst into waves of whispers. Right when the alarm bells of the Source started ringing loudly through the air.
Now he knew where she was.
Vidar pushed the girl to the ground, and she scrambled away on her knees in the dress that someone as low as her was not supposed to even touch, let alone wear.
However, he did not have time for this. He had a bride to drag here by her short silver hair.
She couldn’t just let him be nice to her. She had to make this hard and ugly.
“Everyone, stay in your places!” Vidar announced. “My beautiful future wife decided to play one last game with me. Didn’t she, Mother-In-Law?”
His glare landed on Selene, who nodded calmly in response.
“Olympian tradition,” she lied on the spot. “You want a bride, you catch her.”
“Consider it done!” Vidar gritted his teeth and was ready to leave when a loud growl made his blood freeze in his veins.
No, it couldn’t be…
For a few minutes, Astrea observed the guards stationed around the intricately arched dome building at the centre of the empty square, making sure she took note of each and every one of them. The stakes were incredibly high as she had only one chance to reach the Source nestled within.
The path to it required crossing an empty yet heavily guarded space enclosed by towering walls. With no hiding spots available and a direct approach virtually impossible, she found herself at a distinct disadvantage against the Asgardians, the majority of whom probably wielded some form of divine powers.
Fenir gave her three rows of beads as any more might have raised suspicion, and maintaining a low profile was crucial to their plan. Each bead was priceless because these were her only defence against her adversaries.
Start with the ones on the walls, Nova suggested. Then they can’t hit you with anything nasty from up there.
I am not sure it’s a good idea, Astrea confessed. / will not be able to do it quietly, and if they notice me when I am up there, it’s possible I won’t be able to get down at all. Too risky.
Then let’s do it the old-fashioned way! Nova sneered, ready for a good fight. With a bang.
It was almost the time of the wedding ritual when the guards saw a petite maid clad in a delicate golden gown strolling out from the central entrance to the square, holding a covered tray in her hands.
She had taken only a few steps when the warriors swiftly aimed their sharp spears and swords at her throat.
“Stay where you are!” One of the men ordered, and she froze, her visible trembling betraying her fear.
“I-I have the gifts prepared for the Temple of Freyja,” she stuttered. “In honour of the newlyweds. It was an order of Selene, the Moon Goddess. Sh-she is the mother of the bride.”
The men exchanged doubtful glances, causing the woman to swallow uncomfortably.
“You are in the wrong place.” The warriors stepped aside, giving way to their leader, and Magnus sauntered towards her. “Freyja’s Temple is that way.”
He pointed toward the exit behind the dome on the opposite side of the courtyard, and the maid nodded respectfully, correcting her path.
“I’ll be on my way then. Apologies for disturbing you,” she muttered, speeding up.
Now she simply had to walk past the Source on her way to the indicated exit, all the while being observed by the guards trailing behind. Only a handful of them were stationed as sentinels for the dome building.
“Wait!” The voice of Thor’s son echoed through the square.
“What kind of maid doesn’t know where Freyja’s temple is?”
The woman flinched but did not stop, knowing she had been caught and every step was now essential. The magic that changed her appearance rippled, letting her know she had mere seconds until her mask was completely gone.
“New one?” Astrea suggested, hoping he would give her more time. Just a few feet more, and she would reach her goal.
“Isn’t that a dress for maids who take part in the wedding ceremony?” Magnus questioned further; his instincts kicked in at the worst possible time.
“I’ll get back there right after I am done with this task,” she kept lying through her teeth. “I follow orders of -“
“Slowly turn around and put the tray on the ground so that we can see your hands!” Magnus interjected as the warriors bared their weapons again, following their commander’s lead.
Releasing the illusion, she allowed her hair to return to its silvery-white hue, and her features settled back into their natural state. Some of the men were still surprised to see the change.
“Now,” Astrea sneered, removing the cover from the tray and demonstrating two shiny daggers she stole on her way here, “where would be the fun in that?”
“Seize her!” the captain of the guards shouted, and men charged at her from all angles, but Astrea had already crushed another bead on her wrist simultaneously, throwing the tray at the closest warrior and knocking him off his feet.
In a burst of energy, thick wisps of fog materialised, swirling and billowing around the square. The clouds expanded and exploded, their tendrils enveloping the area, allowing Astrea to disappear and even out her chances in the fight.
Her movements were like a dance of death as she manoeuvred through the clouds, striking her opponents with calculated accuracy, using beads where necessary.
A bulky warrior found her in the mist and lunged forward, his sword slashing through the air inches away from her.
The Dragonfly sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the deadly blade. Just in time for another to appear behind her. She swung, bowing down in time to escape the second blow, and delivered a swift kick to the back of her attacker’s knees, sending him crashing into the first guard. When the two men got back to their feet, she was already nowhere to be seen.
Finally, the advantage was on her side. They had magic and heavy armour, she had Fenrir’s beads, Joran’s training and her speed.
They may have been stronger than her, but right now, she was the only werewolf here. She could count on Nova’s senses as she navigated through the fog, staying mostly invisible to the men who were used to trusting their eyes over anything else.
She became a blur of motion, movements fluid and graceful as she masterfully took them out one after another on her way to her goal.
Fire! Nova warned her, and she barely managed to crush a protective bead, creating a shield around her. Flames hit it in seconds, trying to devour her, to no avail.
She was relatively safe, but her lungs burned thanks to the unbearably hot air, taking away from her strength.
Run! Nova suggested. I’ll heal your lungs!
Right! Astrea agreed, knowing she had to move. A tall Asgardian appeared out of nowhere, and she wondered how she missed him when he threw his helmet at her, and she barely dodged it, recognising Magnus, the only remaining son of Thor.
“Give up,” he grunted, annoyed she got this far, making his men look stu.pid.
He was a dangerous opponent. Not like the others at all. A god almost in the prime of his power, and a pure-blooded one at that.
“I knew your father,” she said, watching pain and frustration wash over his face. Joran taught her well, indeed. If she couldn’t overpower them, she had to get into their heads.” He would be ashamed of you,” she spat, causing him to flinch.
She threw a dagger at him, which he barely averted, letting her know she was on the right path.
He erased his weakness quickly, lips curling into a smirk. ” Why would he be ashamed? I am the defender of Asgard!”
“What Asgard?” she scoffed, swirling the remaining blade in her hands. “This is a faded memory of what it once was!
“And whose fault is that?” he seethed, stepping closer.
Another guard tried to knock her out from behind, and she deftly manoeuvred out of his reach, cutting his Achilles tendons on her way and making him fall to the ground in pain as she disappeared in the fog once again.
Only this time, Magnus followed her closely.
“Not mine!” Her voice echoed in his ears. “He killed me long before that.”
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?