The Goddess Vessel のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

VANESSA'S POVThe howl of victory faded, leaving a ringing silence that was filled not with emptiness, but with a profound, weary peace. The last sliver of shadow slipped from the moon, revealing its full, brilliant silver face once more. It was over.The grove was a testament to the battle. The air still hummed with spent energy, both the chilling void of the enemy and the warm, silver echo of our collective light. Scorch marks from my blasts scarred the earth, and the altar stone, though cleansed, now bore a new mark-the place where Adrien had plunged the moonstone dagger, a hairline crack filled with a soft, permanent glow.The wounded were being tended to. Moans of pain were met with gentle hands and soothing words. The air smelled of blood, ozone, and the sharp, clean scent of healing herbs. We had lost warriors. Silas and Cora were gone, their absence a permanent, aching hollow in the pack bond. Others bore injuries that would leave scars, both visible and not. The cost had been

VANESSA'S POVThe weeks that followed the battle were a study in contrasts. The physical scars on the land and on our people began to heal with the remarkable speed of werewolf regeneration. The grove was cleared, the bloodstains washed away by rain, and new grass began to sprout where the earth had been scorched. The crack in the altar stone, now pulsing with a soft, steady light, was not seen as a flaw, but as a sacred war memorial, a permanent reminder of the night we chose to stand as one.But other wounds took longer. The silence where Silas's booming laugh should have been. The empty seat at the dining table where Cora used to hold court. The pack bond, though stronger and clearer than ever, now had permanent, tender voids where our lost members had been. We learned to carry the grief without letting it break us, to let the memory of their love fuel our resolve instead of our sorrow.The prisoners were dealt with justly, as Adrien had promised. Their knowledge was extracted, the

VANESSA'S POVThe obsidian box sat on Adrien's desk like a poisonous insect. The air in the study still hummed with the echo of the violation, the psychic stench of the Crimson Sun's probe. My thumb throbbed where the rose's thorn had pierced it, a tiny, steady pulse of pain that anchored me to the moment.The fear was still there, a cold knot in my stomach. But it was being smothered, forged in the furnace of Adrien's silent rage and my own simmering defiance. They had sought to make us feel small and watched. Instead, they had handed us a weapon: their arrogance.Adrien's voice cut through the heavy silence, low and sharp as a blade. "Kael."His Beta, who had been staring at the bloody rose with a look of pure hatred, snapped to attention. "Alpha.""The perimeter is no longer a line. It is a sphere. I want watchers on the highest peaks, looking not just for bodies, but for that... feeling." His eyes flicked to me, and I gave a slight, confirming nod. He knew. He'd felt the psychic i

VANESSA'S POVThe first location was a place of old power. A clearing where the oldest tree in the territory stood, its gnarled roots digging deep into the heart of the land. It was a nexus point, Sage Nolan explained, where the pack's energy naturally gathered and flowed. A perfect anchor for our first line of defense.The journey there was silent, tense. Kael and two of his most stoic warriors flanked Nolan and me, their eyes scanning the dappled shadows of the forest for threats both seen and unseen. The air itself felt charged, as if the woods were holding their breath. I clutched the charged moonstone shard in my palm, its gentle hum a constant, reassuring presence against my skin.We reached the clearing. The ancient oak stood in the center, a silent, wise sentinel. Its branches stretched out like protective arms, and the air here was still and reverent."This is the place," Nolan murmured, his voice hushed in the sacred space. "The connection is strongest here. The stone must b

VANESSA'S POVThe rage that poured from Adrien was a living thing, a storm contained within the four walls of his study. It was cold now, a deadly, focused ice where before it had been a wildfire. He had turned from the window, and his eyes, when they met mine, were chips of frozen emerald.He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The scroll on the desk said everything.Kael, looking as if he wanted to rip something apart with his bare hands, finally broke the silence. "They are trying to lure you out, Alpha. This is a goad. Pure and simple."The dead raven was a grotesque paperweight. The message, written in the same crimson ink, was shorter, more vicious."A strong Alpha protects his pack. A weak one lets his parents' killers taunt him from the shadows. Which are you, Adrien Mistwood? We are waiting."It was a masterstroke of psychological warfare. They had taken his deepest wound-the loss of his parents, the foundational tragedy of his leadership-and were using it as a hook to pull him