Deanna entered with a tea trolley, and a huge grin on her face. "Now, for a more pressing matter in the present! How are things with you, my child? You’ve been like a ghost these days."
Alinta smiled gratefully as she poured herself some tea and grabbed a muffin. "These smell divine! Thank you, Aunt Deanna. I'm doing well, I’m finally able to close the chapter on my mother’s passing and found peace. I’m ready to make some much-needed changes to the cottage I had been putting off."
"That is wonderful news to hear, my dear! Your mother would be so thrilled. I know Estelle would want for you to move on and be happy."
Alinta stared down at her cup while stirring the spoon gently, she could only nod her head in agreement, for Deanna spoke the truth, but it was difficult for her to talk when hearing her mother's name. "Anything else?" Deanna asked playfully, raising and lowering her eyebrows to lighten up the mood.
Alinta's cheeks flushed, and she quickly dismissed the question. "Nope, unfortunately, no news to update you on there, Aunt Deanna."
The old woman giggled, enjoying the playful banter. "You know I'm just teasing you, my child. The right man will come along at the right time."
The two women had a long, lovely visit. By the time it was time to say goodbye, it had grown dark outside. Alinta shifted into her wolf form and sprinted all the way home. She disliked lingering after dark, especially since a terrifying incident that occurred three months ago. The run took her fifteen minutes, reaching her home unscathed.
"That was a nice run! Thanks, Als," hummed Angela, feeling satisfied.
"I think we both needed it, especially to get home safely," said Alinta, panting. She locked her door and headed straight to the bathroom to clean up and get comfortable. As the warm water rained down her back in the shower, Alinta couldn’t help but reflect on the coincidence that the Rogue Deity was prophesied to return on her birthday, which coincided with the 8th crimson moon. The number eight symbolized new beginnings, but for werewolves, the blood moon was considered a bad omen, heralding the death of a king. Alinta's thoughts began to spiral as she pondered connections to the past and the potential misfortunes that lay ahead.
"Hey, you know I can hear your thoughts, Als. Don't start thinking about bad things; everything will be fine," Angela said gently, offering comfort to her person.
"Thanks, Ange. Sorry, I almost got carried away with my overthinking again," Alinta replied gratefully as she closed the faucet. After her shower, she made herself a cheese sandwich for dinner and headed directly to her mother's room. Alinta had never moved into her mom's room after she passed away. She tried to keep everything as it was and cleaned it weekly. She had a few of her mother's perfume bottles and would occasionally spray it, just to feel her mother's presence through one of her five senses.
Alinta only went there when she was feeling down or needed comfort. She took her laptop from under her arm and placed it on her lap. "Mom, it's that time again. Please give me some strength," Alinta sighed aloud. Angela remained silent, sharing the same emotions as Alinta. In her heart, she whispered the same words. They shared a moment of silence until Alinta found the motivation to press the power button on her laptop and took two bites of her sandwich.
When the login screen appeared, she set her meal aside and typed in her password to access the search engine. Alinta continued her research on rogue deity lore. The mythical creatures had their own World Wide Web because they were collaborating with the government. After forty-five minutes of searching, Alinta stumbled upon a promising page. It was crudely designed, resembling a website from the late '90s, but it contained the information she had been hoping for.
The page was more of an event advertisement than an informative document. At the top was a brief description of the deity and its history, which portrayed the deity in a more positive light than what Aunt Deanna had told her. It read:
Many years ago, our Moon created the perfect wolf, a Deity with the ability to take over the minds of corrupt kings and leaders. However, one day he met his match and was devoured, tainting his existence. Even in defeat, our Deity banished himself to prevent any harm to his people. It has been prophesied that he will return on the 8th Crimson Moon. Our Lord shall return, glorious and unblemished, marking the death of a corrupt demon and the rebirth of our beloved Deity.
Join us on the 25th of November at Bare Mountain's Shadow Caverns. The party starts at 18:00. Please click the link to book your tickets.
Alinta found it intriguing how this page presented a positive ideology about the Deity. Not once was the word "rogue" mentioned. Were these people associating the Deity with goodness because of his past deeds before he turned?
Hearing Alinta’s thoughts, Angela responded while Alinta took another bite of her food. “It is sad how the Deity was consumed and corrupted. However, don’t see this as a form of poetic license. It states the obvious—celebrating his return. Who knows, it could be like an occult or something.”
Alinta pondered Angela’s theory but, ever the optimist, considered another possibility. “Do you think he might have been battling the evil part of himself and could come back, reverting to his original self?”
“Caution, Als. We don't have the expertise and knowledge to make a final conclusion.”
“I guess you’re right, maybe we could ask Aunt Deanna what she makes of this the next time we see her.”
Angela nodded in agreement, her heartbeat quickening with excitement as she exclaimed, “You know what I smell?”
“Oh boy, I think I do,” whined Alinta, knowing that whatever it was, she wouldn’t be able to say no.
“Yup! I vote for doing in-depth research and writing a proper thesis!” Angela barked excitedly while spinning in a full 360-degree turn.
“Seriously, a thes…” But before Alinta could finish her sentence, she noticed movement by her window and immediately ran over to inspect it. When she saw nothing, she pulled the curtains shut. “You know what? I have an idea. Let’s go to our favourite spot after work tomorrow to think things over.”
“Yes!” exclaimed Angela. “Let’s get some sleep!”
Alinta agreed with her wolf’s wise suggestion and returned to her laptop. She quickly bookmarked the page and then shut it down. After finishing her meagre meal, she washed her plate, poured a glass of water, and got into bed.
Meanwhile, once the lights switched off a lone black wolf stood in the distance, looking at the little cottage, reluctant to leave, "Oh my Alinta, one day you will not be so alone, look how you sit silently, only conversing with your wolf in your thoughts."
"I can't wait to tame my Angel, I will never allow her to leave my side," husked his wolf yearningly.
"All in due time, Onyx, all in due time, for I myself can't bear this any longer, we waited for far too long."
"What's stopping us from taking her now? They had their freedom for almost twelve years."
"Calm your anxiousness! We have a plan and need to stick to it. Besides, good things come to those who wait."
"I swear to the Gods, if your plan fucking fails, I am going to do things MY WAY!" his wolf snarled spitting excess saliva through his sharp teeth.
That evening, Adorus retreated to his little corner, not the slightest bit interested in anything around him, only gazing into the heavens with a serious, calculative expression.Orion, too, was preoccupied; he and Kyle were in deep conversation, speaking of how, once Alinta was saved and Draven defeated, the world might finally be safe again.Silas and Angela were nestled together, tending to his mate, ensuring she was well. He still could not believe she was finally free of her hex.“Yes, I am fine!” she giggled shyly each time Silas found an excuse to touch her with his nose and muzzle. He was happy to see his mate well; this was nothing short of a miracle.“You have been through so much, my love. Though you have healed, I must be certain not a single trace of that rotten magic remains within you,” he said gravely, then cheekily licked her cheek. Silas was overjoyed to see Angela as her old self.“Ow!”“What is it, my love?” Silas asked at once, concern sharpening his tone. Angela
In the heart of the vast desert, two men clashed in hand-to-hand combat within an arena carved entirely from stone. The blazing sun bore down on them, conditions in which Adorus thrived, while Orion struggled. Yet he did not dare give up.Four days had passed since Adorus had begun his training, but Orion remained weak, worn down by the continuous backlash, showing little progress. The Sun God’s patience waned, his attacks growing fiercer as he swung his fiery cane with effortless precision, one hand mockingly folded behind his back.Relentless, he broke Orion’s bones and battered him to a pulp each day, only to heal him afterwards.Now, his movements driven by irritation, Adorus aggressively struck Orion’s chest with a swift jab of his cane, hurling him from the arena. Orion crashed onto his back, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs, yet he forced himself back to his feet, despite the pain.“You are useless! To think I would ever allow you to become my daughter’s mate!” Adoru
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months since Orion and Silas returned to Silver Forest. Whispers among the animals spread like wildfire, rumours that Rose Thorn Forest and its surrounding territories had fallen under the grip of a malignant, powerful force.Word also spread of the Valencia Lupus Bellatores’ disappearance, a young girl of only fifteen.Orion held his head in his hands, silent tears slipping through his fingers… just like his mate, his hopes and the will to go on had slipped away. Silas remained quiet, listening to his broken person’s thoughts while curled protectively around Angela.They were in a pitiful state, hollowed by the repercussions of betrayal. Orion's fated mark was gone, lost beneath festering flesh. At first, Silas had shifted into his wolf form, hoping it would heal as normal scars would, but it was no use; no magic could mend a defiled holy bond. The rot spread instead, Orion’s chest and shoulder turning a sickly grey, as his health worsened each p
The new year had settled into its fourth month. Draven had just returned from his hunt, his mood soured by failure, unable to find Silas, and unsuccessful in locating the final Lupus Bellatores. He had abandoned the tower entirely and taken refuge in the territory of his ancestral home. There, he restored the ruins of the castle he had once lived during Crustblood's reign. Deep in the dark forests, he began to reclaim the surrounding land as his own. He was preparing for war.He effortlessly teleported to the master chambers where his prize was fast asleep. A woman dressed in period clothing as a chambermaid bowed before leaving the room. Alinta was free to roam the vast castle, but because of her delicate state, she spent most of her time either in bed or in the library.“Breathtaking, as always, my sleeping beauty,” Draven sighed in utter satisfaction, his anger almost instantly diminished at the sight of her.He grinned as he gazed upon his desire. She looked radiant and flawless,
It had been three days since Kyle's disappearance, and the memory of the CCTV footage replayed in Orion's mind.On the recording, Kyle had just entered the police station and was walking down the long corridor towards his office. As he reached for the handle, a dark, shadowed force engulfed him and then vanished. Two people rushed towards the spot, completely taken aback by what had happened.Now confined to a small hotel room, Orion sat on the ground, struggling to hold himself together. Defeat weighed heavily on him; uselessness gnawed at his soul. He had failed again, failed to protect his mate, and now… a dear friend. He heaved hollow sobs, his tears soaking his hands, not knowing what to do anymore.Everything seemed as though it was already too late. There was a shift in the atmosphere, a premonition that something terrible was about to come.The backlash from the betrayal of the bond now struck tenfold. He hunched over, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him by
The ghastly sight of the dungeon evaporated, now replaced by the view of a magnificent medieval chamber fit for a king. Its interior extravagantly draped in rich fabrics of violet and onyx. The air carried the strong scent of velvety burnt amber, and low candlelight cast its glow, accommodated by subtle flickers from excited flames licking at its burning wick. Draven’s heavy steps upon the black marble floors echoed through the room as he eagerly made his way to a vast, richly carved ebony four-poster bed.He carefully laid Alinta upon its silken sheets. His gaze rested on her, his features softening as it shifted to doting obsession. Once he was satisfied with her peaceful state, he strode towards a luxurious armchair close by, settled in it, and closed his eyes.One last task remained; something he had been anxiously anticipating for months."You were able to mark her?!" Bellinor roared in fury as he realised his voice had returned, but he broke into a sudden scream as an unknown fo