Chapter 21 The God’s Messenger
The marks spread like poison through my veins.
By morning, they had reached my collarbone. By afternoon, my chest. By evening, they crawled toward my heart with relentless purpose.
Three days until the gods arrived.
Maybe less.
“There has to be a way to slow it,” Kael said, watching Mora examine the black lines spreading across my skin. His own marks had appeared an hour ago, crawling up his arm. “Some spell. Some magic.”
“This is not magic we can counter,” Mora said tiredly. She had not slept since my daughter’s birth, and exhaustion lined her weathered face. “This is divine marking. Announcement to beings beyond our realm that the Shadow Queen exists and who stands with her.”
Through the bond, I felt Kael’s frustration. His wolf wanted to fight, to tear apart any threat. But you could not claw your way through a divine summons.
My daughter slept peacefully in her cradle, unaware that the gods were preparing to destroy her. The parasite had been silent since its revelation, retreating to wherever it lurked within her consciousness.
“How do we fight gods?” Lyra asked from her position by the window. Her arm bore marks now too, spreading from where she had touched my daughter during the birth. “Our claws and teeth will be useless.”
“We do not fight them,” Elder Thaddeus said grimly. “We negotiate. Plead our case. Hope they show mercy.”
“And if they do not?” Maya whispered, her own marked arm wrapped protectively around herself.
No one answered.
Because we all knew the truth.
If the gods demanded my daughter’s death, no negotiation would save her.
A knock interrupted the heavy silence.
Garrett entered, his face pale. “Alpha King, there is someone at the gates. She says she is a messenger. From the gods.”
My blood turned to ice. “They sent someone ahead?”
“Apparently.” Garrett’s hand rested on his sword hilt. “She asks to speak with the Shadow Queen’s parents. Alone.”
Kael and I exchanged glances through the bond. This could be a trap—an assassination attempt disguised as diplomacy.
But refusing would only anger beings we desperately needed to appease.
“We go,” I said, standing. “But Lyra and Garrett stay close. At the first sign of danger”
“We tear her apart,” Lyra finished, her eyes glowing amber.
We descended to the throne room where the messenger waited.
She was beautiful in the way winter was beautiful. Cold. Perfect. Inhuman. Her skin glowed with internal light, and her eyes held stars. She wore robes that seemed woven from moonlight itself.
Not a werewolf.
Something else entirely.
“Alpha King Kael. Luna Queen Sera.” Her voice resonated like crystal bells. “I am Asteria, Herald of the Divine Council. I come bearing their message.”
“Speak,” Kael commanded, though his voice lacked its usual authority. Even an Alpha King was nothing before the power of the divine.
“The Council has sensed the Shadow Queen’s birth. They have felt reality bend to accommodate her existence. They are not pleased.” Asteria’s star-filled eyes studied us without emotion. “The werewolf curse was designed with limitations. Boundaries. Your daughter exceeds those boundaries.”
“She is a child,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “An infant. She has done nothing wrong.”
“She exists. That is wrong enough.” Asteria gestured, and images formed in the air between us. “The Shadow Queen’s power will grow exponentially. By age five, she will be able to reshape reality with a thought. By ten, she will challenge the gods themselves for dominion.” The images showed my daughter older, beautiful and terrible, reality warping around her. “The Council cannot allow such a being to exist unchecked.”
“Then check her,” Kael said desperately. “Place restrictions. Limitations. Bind her power somehow.”
“That option was considered.” Asteria’s expression remained neutral. “But the Shadow Queen is beyond binding. Her nature is to exist outside all rules, all restrictions. She cannot be controlled. Therefore, she must be eliminated.”
“No.” The word came from my soul. “I will not let you kill my daughter.”
“You have no choice in this matter.” Asteria’s glow intensified. “In three days, the Council will descend. They will pass judgment. And if that judgment is death, as we expect it will be, you will surrender the child or watch your entire kingdom burn.”
“There has to be another way,” I said. “Some compromise. Some tests she can pass to prove she is not a threat.”
“A test?” Something that might have been curiosity flickered across Asteria’s perfect face. “What kind of test?”
“Whatever the Council demands.” I stepped forward, ignoring Kael’s warning through the bond. “Let my daughter prove she can control her power. That she will not threaten the divine order.”
Asteria was silent for a long moment, stars swirling in her eyes as if consulting with beings far away.
“The Council has heard your proposal,” she said finally. “They offer this compromise. The Shadow Queen will face three trials. Tests designed to measure her control, her wisdom, her restraint.” A pause. “If she passes all three, the Council will allow her to live under observation. If she fails even one, she dies immediately.”
“She is three days old,” Kael protested. “How can an infant possibly”
“She is the Shadow Queen,” Asteria interrupted. “She exists outside normal development. She will understand the trials. She will choose her responses.” Her gaze locked onto mine. “But know this, Mother. The trials are designed to fail. The Council expects her to prove their fears correct. To demonstrate that she is too dangerous to exist.”
“When?” I asked, though I dreaded the answer.
“When the marks reach your hearts. When the Council descends.” Asteria began to fade, her form dissolving into moonlight. “Three days. Prepare your daughter as best you can. Pray she surprises us. But expect to watch her die.”
She vanished.
The throne room fell silent except for my ragged breathing.
“Three trials,” Kael said quietly. “Against beings older than time. Designed for her to fail.”
“Then we help her pass,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “We prepare her. Train her somehow.”
“She is an infant, Sera. She cannot even hold her head up. How do we train her to face gods?”
Before I could answer, the parasite’s voice emerged from the shadows.
“You do not train her,” it said, and my daughter materialised beside us, her tiny form glowing with that mixed silver and void light. “You let me take control. For the trials. I am older than your gods. Wiser. Crueller.” The void in her eyes deepened. “Give me dominance for three days, and I promise you, she will pass every trial.”
“And in exchange?” I demanded, because parasites never offered help freely.
“She remembers nothing of the trials. Returns to her infant state afterwards. But the boundaries you set?” The smile on my daughter’s face was ancient and knowing. “They dissolve. I gain equal partnership. Equal voice in her decisions.”
“That was not our bargain,” Kael snarled.
“Our bargain was made before the gods declared war on your daughter.” The parasite’s voice turned cold. “Now you choose. Let me help and sacrifice some autonomy. Or face the trials yourselves and watch her die.”
Through our connection, I felt my daughter’s consciousness. Terrified. Too young to understand. Trapped in a body being fought over by powers beyond comprehension.
She could not face the gods alone.
But giving the parasite more control was exactly what it wanted. What it had been manipulating us toward all along.
“One day to decide,” the parasite said, my daughter’s form fading back to wherever it kept her physical body hidden. “When the marks reach your hearts tomorrow night, tell me your choice. Partnership? Or death?”
The presence vanished.
Leaving Kael and me alone with an impossible decision.
Trust the parasite and risk losing our daughter’s soul.
Or refuse and watch her executed by the gods.
The marks on my chest pulsed, crawling another inch toward my heart.
And somewhere beyond reality, I felt the gods watching.
Waiting.
Judging.
My daughter began to cry from her nursery, and the sound broke my heart.
Because I realised the terrible truth.
No matter what we chose, we had already lost her.
The only question was whether we lost her to the parasite or to the gods.
I looked at Kael through our bond, seeking answers neither of us had.
And saw my own despair reflected in his stormy grey eyes.
Tomorrow, when the marks reached our hearts, we would have to choose.
But I already knew what my answer would be.
The marks pulsed again, spreading faster now.
Racing toward the moment when everything would end.