Chapter 6 – The Dream of the Goddess

Irene

The trembling lingers long after the nightmare fades. I’m pressed against the headboard, a glass of water in my hands, the four of them close enough to anchor me without smothering me.

Elias is the first to break the silence. “Tell us,” he says softly. “What did you see?”

I draw in a shaky breath. My voice is fragile, but the truth burns too fiercely to keep hidden. “It wasn’t just a dream. The Mother Goddess came to me. She… she showed me why women are gone.”

Their eyes sharpen. Rowan’s usual smirk is gone; Cassian’s posture stiffens. Kevin leans closer, as if he fears missing a single word.

“She showed me the past,” I whisper. “I saw women… girls… like me. Hunted. Chased down as if they were prey. Beaten until they couldn’t stand. I saw men reject their fated mates, again and again. They threw them aside for rank, for power, for lust. The ones they didn’t reject…” My stomach twists. “…they used them. As slaves. As breeders. Locked away, forced to bear children without love, without care. I saw a girl dragged out from under a table by her ankle. A pregnant woman ordered to work until she bled. A mate begging to be chosen, only to be pushed aside.” My voice cracks. “And the Goddess made me feel all of it. Every cry, every scar. It wasn’t a story. It was real.”

The silence that follows is heavy.

Cassian’s jaw tightens. “It’s true,” he says finally, his voice low with shame. “Our records tell the same story. It wasn’t sickness or war that took the women from us. It was our own cruelty.”

Elias lowers his eyes. “We grew up knowing we’d never see a female wolf. But hearing it like this…” He shakes his head. “It’s worse than we ever imagined.”

Rowan scrubs a hand over his face. For once, there’s no joke in him. “No wonder the Goddess cursed us. If I were her, I’d have done worse.”

Kevin’s voice is soft, careful. “Did she tell you anything else?”

I nod, blinking back tears. “Yes. She said the Mother Tree will only bear daughters again if this world learns to respect and protect its women. If not, daughters will never return. And she said daughters can lead too—that a female can be Alpha. That men who can’t accept it aren’t fit to rule.”

The four exchange looks. None of them argue. None of them doubt me.

Elias leans forward. “Then that is what we do. We learn respect. We protect you. And we start here.”

Cassian rises, his command returning in gentler form. “First—warmth. Rowan, the bath.”

Rowan is already moving, grateful for something to do. He flicks the switch in the bathroom, and light spills across the tiles. He turns the taps, checking the steam with his wrist.

Elias helps me up carefully, his hand a steady weight under my elbow. “Slowly,” he murmurs. “The dream took more from you than you realize.”

The bathing room glows with soft light. Steam curls from the tub, carrying the scent of herbs. Rowan smirks faintly as he tests the water. “I don’t know about curses, but hot water solves half the world’s problems.”

“Rowan,” Cassian warns, though the edge is softened.

I sink into the tub, the heat soaking into my bones. Kevin kneels beside me, dipping a cloth into the water, wringing it out, and smoothing it over my arm with careful hands.

“You don’t have to,” I whisper, embarrassed.

“Yes, we do,” Kevin says simply. “Let us.”

Rowan rolls up his sleeves and helps with my hair, his touch surprisingly gentle. “If you can face a Goddess,” he says, “you can handle soap.”

Elias dries me with soft linen when I’m done, his movements precise as if I were something fragile. Cassian drapes a clean tunic over my shoulders, the fabric smelling faintly of smoke and sun.

By the time they guide me back to bed, I’m wrapped in warmth that has nothing to do with fire.

Kevin returns with a tray—fresh bread, a wedge of cheese, honey, and warm milk. He sets it on my lap like it’s a feast. “Eat,” he says. “If you want me to feed you, I will.”

I snort softly. “I can feed myself.”

Rowan steals a grape anyway. “Not if I get there first.”

Elias drizzles honey on a piece of bread and offers it to me. “Sweetness chases nightmares better than water.”

I nibble, and my body remembers hunger. The taste is simple, grounding. I eat again. Rowan pretends not to watch but relaxes when he sees me finish.

Cassian adjusts the blanket every time I move it crooked. It’s a small, silly thing, but it makes me feel safe.

Between bites, I murmur, “The Goddess showed me one more thing. The Tree was in my dream. It felt… sad.”

Elias nods slowly. “It has been sad for a hundred years.”

“Maybe it’s waiting,” Rowan says.

“Maybe it’s watching,” Kevin adds.

“Maybe it’s both,” I whisper.

Cassian meets my eyes. “Either way, we will stand with you there.”

Their warmth surrounds me, their shame and tenderness tangled together. For now , I believe I don’t have to carry this alone.