Chapter 19 #2
“How many centuries has it been?” Celeste laughs, the sound bright and terrible. “Your friend is alive, Daciana. Or should I call you Elara?”
The name—my real name—hits me like a physical blow. The pieces are falling into place with sickening clarity.
“You’re the necromancer,” I say again.
Celeste shrugs, still smiling. “It took you so long to figure it out. All this time, you never knew who I was. But I knew who you were even before you were born.”
She takes another step forward, and I shift my weight, ready to act.
“Having a seer as a prisoner is really useful, you see. In every life, I knew exactly where you were going to be born. Of course, magic has some rules, so I couldn’t kill you at birth.
But I made arrangements for you to be watched.
” Her eyes gleam with cruelty and satisfaction.
“Each time, I watched you meet Kieran and fall in love with him. And each time, I waited for you to conceive.”
Behind me, I hear Astra and Selene gasp, but I don’t turn around. Can’t turn around. If I take my eyes off Celeste for even a second…
“You took me from my real family,” I say, and my voice is steady even though my hands are shaking.
“I had no choice.” Celeste spreads her hands as if this is all perfectly reasonable.
“You were born too close to gypsy witches. They would have protected you. I couldn’t have that.
So, I sent you far away, to the Silver Stone Pack, where nobody would know what you were. Where nobody would suspect a thing.”
“But why?” The words rip out of me. “Why do all this?”
Celeste’s expression transforms as she bares her teeth at me. “Do you even know who I am? Who I was? I was the queen! And then some witch came along telling me the kingdom where I had maintained purity for decades was going to revert to those hybrids because they give birth to some son.”
The venom in her voice makes me flinch.
“There was no way I was going to let that happen. My ancestors had seized power to protect the Wolf Kingdom from tainted blood. We were not about to let half-breeds sit on the throne.” She circles closer now, and dark energy begins to crackle around her fingers.
“So, I made the sacrifice. I cursed you and that mate of yours.”
Everything goes still. The world narrows to this moment, this revelation.
“Then, the attacks on Kieran and me—” I start.
Celeste hisses, her composure cracking for the first time. “It was Theodore, the fool. He could never follow instructions properly.”
“Theodore?” Her father!
“It doesn’t matter now.” The dark energy around her hands intensifies, and the rage in her voice says everything. “The curse has weakened enough that I can get rid of you myself this time. And I will make sure you stay dead.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Selene helping Astra toward the other exit. I have to buy them time. Have to keep Celeste’s attention on me.
“You can try,” I snarl, and then I shift.
The transformation rips through me in a heartbeat, and I launch myself at Celeste with every ounce of speed and strength I have. My wolf form is built for killing, built for tearing apart threats, and right now, she is the only threat that matters.
Celeste sidesteps impossibly fast, and before I can correct my trajectory, magic slams into me like a battering ram. I hit the ground hard enough to crack stone, the impact driving the air from my lungs. Pain explodes through my ribs.
I shift back, gasping, one hand pressed against my side. “How can you use magic?”
Celeste looks down at me as if I am to be pitied. “Because I had to taint my blood to keep my kingdom clean, you stupid girl. I am also a hybrid.”
The revelation should shock me, but I don’t have time. I roll to the side as black fire scorches the ground where I just was. I scramble to my feet, my ribs screaming in protest.
Celeste advances, magic swirling around her like a living thing. “Did you really think you could beat me? I’ve had centuries to perfect this. Centuries to plan.”
I dodge another blast of dark magic, feeling the heat sear past my face. The herb garden erupts into chaos around us, plants withering and dying where her magic touches them, wooden posts splintering.
“Astra, go!” I shout, not daring to look back.
Celeste’s eyes track toward where Astra and Selene are trying to escape. “Oh, no, I don’t think so.”
She moves toward them, and I throw myself in her path. She backhands me with a bolt of pure force, and I crash into the table. It collapses. Food scatters. My vision blurs.
“You’ve always been persistent,” Celeste says. “In every life. Always so determined to protect everyone. It’s pathetic.”
I push myself up, spitting blood. “Better than being you.”
Her face twists with rage, and she lifts both hands. Dark energy coalesces between her palms, building to something massive, something that will level everything in its path.
Behind me, I hear Astra cry out, a sound of pain that cuts through everything else.
“Astra!” Selene’s voice, panicked.
“The baby!” Astra gasps, and I risk a glance back.
She is doubled over, Selene supporting her weight, and I see the wetness spreading down her legs.
No. No. Not now.
“Astra, please…” Selene is practically dragging her.
But Astra straightens, her face contorted with pain and determination. Her eyes begin to glow with that strange, golden light that marks her unique power—the power to command any shifter. She’s aiming for Celeste’s wolf, trying to force her to submit.
Celeste laughs. The light flickers around her, and then, nothing. Astra’s power slides off her like water off stone.
“Nice try, Your Majesty.” Celeste’s smile is cruel. “But I’ve had a long time to learn how to shield against that particular trick.”
Astra crumples, another contraction tearing through her. “Selene…”
“I’ve got you,” Selene says, but she sounds terrified. “We just need to—”
Celeste lifts her hand toward the garden entrance, and the air begins to shimmer. The smell hits me first: decay, death, wrongness.
They come shambling through the garden gate. The guards. The ones who were supposed to protect Astra. Except now they’re dead, their skin gray and mottled, their eyes empty, white orbs. Blood stains their uniforms. Their weapons hang loose in already decomposing hands.
“No,” I breathe.
There are at least a dozen of them. Maybe more. They move with jerky, unnatural movements, spreading out to surround us.
“Stop them!” Selene screams at me, supporting Astra’s weight as another contraction hits.
I shift again, ignoring the pain in my ribs, and throw myself at the nearest undead guard. My teeth sink into dead flesh, and the taste is vile, wrong in every way. But I tear and rip anyway, trying to disable him, trying to give Astra and Selene time to escape.
But there are too many of them. Far too many.
A sword slices across my shoulder, and I yelp, spinning to face a new threat. Another blade catches my flank. I’m fast, but I’m one wolf against an army of the dead. They feel no pain, no fear. They just keep coming.
I hear Astra scream again, and through the chaos, I see Celeste stalking toward her, dark magic swirling around her hands.
I try to reach them, but three guards pile onto me, pinning me down. Dead hands grab my fur, pull at my legs. I thrash and snarl, but—
The garden gate explodes.
The wooden doors blast inward, ripped from their hinges by sheer force. Splinters spray like shrapnel. The undead guards nearest the entrance are thrown backward, scattered like leaves.
And then, they’re here.
Three massive wolves burst through the destroyed gateway, and the fury rolling off them is palpable, a physical force that makes the air itself tremble. They’re not just angry. They’re enraged.
The first wolf moves with power and deadly grace, muscles rippling beneath his coat. His eyes burn with absolute murderousness. Kieran. I recognize him instantly, and relief floods through me so powerfully, I almost go weak.
Beside him, another wolf nearly as large moves with deadly precision. Lucian. The King. His lips are peeled back from massive fangs, a low growl rumbling from his chest that sounds like an earthquake building.
The third wolf is slightly smaller but no less terrifying, his eyes fixed on the undead with predatory focus. Seth.
They don’t pause. They don’t assess. They attack.
Kieran hits the first line of undead like a battering ram, his jaws closing around a corpse’s neck and tearing. The head separates from the body with a wet crunch, and he tosses it aside like garbage before lunging for the next one. His movements are savage, efficient, and absolutely merciless.
Lucian goes for the legs, his massive jaws crushing bone like kindling. An undead guard swings a sword at him, but he’s already moving, too fast to track. He catches the guard’s arm in his teeth and rips it clean off, then spins and slams his weight into three more guards, sending them flying.
Seth fights like a demon, all teeth and claws and vicious precision. He doesn’t just disable the undead, he destroys them. Limbs fly. Bodies crumble. He moves through them like a scythe through wheat, his snarls echoing off the garden walls.
The three of them are a storm of violence, coordinated and devastating. They’ve clearly fought together before; they move like parts of the same organism, covering each other’s flanks, setting up kills for one another.
An undead guard manages to get his sword up to block my mate, but Kieran doesn’t even slow down. He catches the blade in his jaws—I hear the metal screech—and rips it from the guard’s hands. Then, he lunges forward and crushes the corpse’s skull between his teeth.
Lucian is a whirlwind of fury. He catches an undead guard mid-lunge, his jaws closing around the thing’s spine, and shakes it so violently that I hear bones snapping like firecrackers. When he drops it, the body doesn’t even try to get up again.
Seth has three guards on him at once, yet he doesn’t back down.
He spins, his teeth finding one’s throat, and as the corpse is falling he’s already launching himself at the second one, using his momentum to drive it into the third.
All three go down in a tangle of limbs, and Seth tears through them with methodical brutality.
But the undead keep coming. For each one they destroy, another shuffles forward. Dead hands reach for them, swords swing wildly—and still, Celeste stands at the center of it all, her hands raised, more magic building.
I manage to throw off my attackers and shift back, stumbling toward where Astra has collapsed against the garden wall. Selene is crouched over her, hands glowing with healing magic, but her face is pale with panic.
“The baby is coming,” Selene says when I reach them. “I can’t stop it. The stress, the fear—”
“We have to get her out of here,” I say, reaching for Astra.
“How touching.” Celeste’s voice cuts through the chaos. “The whole family, together at last.”
She stands in the center of the garden, surrounded by carnage, and she looks pleased. Dark energy builds around her, so much power that the air itself seems to bend and warp. The undead guards create a wall between her and the three wolves, forcing them to fight through the endless horde.
Kieran spots her, spots the threat, and breaks away from the undead, charging straight at her. His coat is stained with black ichor, his eyes burning with single-minded purpose.
“No!” I scream, but it’s too late.
Celeste sees him coming. Smiles. Lifts her hand.
A barb of magic forms there, black and twisted and wrong. Death magic. The kind that doesn’t just kill, it unmakes. It will rip his soul apart, scatter the pieces so thoroughly that even the Fates couldn’t put him back together.
She hurls it at Kieran.
I don’t think. Don’t hesitate. I just move.
My body crashes into the path of that dark magic, and pain explodes through me like nothing I’ve ever felt. It’s not just physical; it’s deeper than that. The magic tears through my chest, and I feel something vital shatter inside me. Something that can’t be healed.
I hit the ground, and the world goes red, then gray, then…
“Daciana!” Kieran’s voice, broken and desperate.
I try to breathe and taste blood. So much blood. I look down and see the wound in my chest, see the black veins spreading out from it like cracks in glass. The magic is eating me from the inside out.
Celeste’s laugh echoes through the garden. “How noble. How completely pointless.”
Through blurring vision, I see her walking toward me. Toward Kieran, who has shifted back to human form and is cradling me against his chest. His hands are shaking. His face is—
I can’t look at his face.
“Let me finish what I started,” Celeste says, lifting her hand again. “This time, you both die. No more resurrections. No more second chances.”
Kieran pulls me closer, as if his body can shield me from what’s coming. His hand covers the wound in my chest, trying uselessly to stop the bleeding.
“I love you,” I whisper, tasting copper. “I’m sorry. The baby…”
His eyes widen, but before he can respond, Celeste’s magic begins to coalesce.
And then, the light.
Pure, brilliant white light erupts between us and Celeste, solidifying into a shimmering barrier that spans the entire garden. Celeste’s death magic slams into it and stops, dissipating harmlessly against the shield.
“Get away from my daughter.”
The voice is cold, absolute, and achingly familiar.
Hera.