Chapter 139 - Chaos Begins

Chapter 139 - Chaos Begins
Chapter 37 - Chaos Begins

Drayen Stormclaw POV

Granalf was snarling in the back of my skull the entire time, pacing tight circles like he wanted to chew through steel.

“They took our sisters,” he growled. “They took our brothers. Why are we still standing here? Why aren’t we hunting?”

Because we were all exhausted. Because the air still hummed with leftover battle magic. Because every adult still at the Academy had demanded we stay put and wait for orders.

Because none of that mattered when the ley lines themselves had snatched Nyxaria, Lyrielle, Lucen, and Rhaen out from under our damn noses.

I paced the length of the unused training hall again, my boots grinding into the old stone. Around me stood the whole second generation, Rowan Verric, Kaelen, Finnian, Seren leaning against a pillar with her fangs halfway bared, Azara fucking glowing with how pissed she was, Saphira, Kerra, Mae, Theo swaying on his feet with overstimulated fury, and Maeve…

Maeve who was tucked right under Rowan’s arm. Again.

Granalf huffed. “Your sister is clinging to the wolf boy.”

He wasn’t wrong. Rowan’s hand rested lightly on Maeve’s hip, his thumb brushing where her shirt met her skin. It was subtle, soft, and way too intimate for a casual moment. She leaned into it unconsciously, as if his touch soothed her frayed nerves.

I side-eyed him. Hard.

Rowan noticed and froze, his ears reddening. Maeve turned pink and pulled slightly away, though Rowan still kept himself close, protective, worried, and furious beneath it all.

I’d deal with that in a minute.

For now, I planted myself in the center of the room and said, “We need to do something.”

Azara crossed her arms, her demi-goddess aura crackling. “No shit we need to do something. The question is if we can.”

“We can,” Seren snapped. “We have enough power between us to crack mountains.”

“Breaking mountains isn’t the problem,” Kaelen rumbled. “Raelith is.”

The name hit the room like a dropped sword.

Finnian swallowed hard. “We can’t let her keep them.”

“We won’t,” I said.

Granalf snarled agreement. “Rip her to pieces. Tear her heart out through her spine.”

Theo rocked back and forth, muttering, “We need a plan. Plans are good. No plans get everyone killed. And I like not dying.”

Saphira flicked a curl over her shoulder. “I say we go now. Just slip through the forest, follow the scent trail, and hunt.”

“That’s suicide,” Kaelen growled.

Azara looked at me. “Drayen? What’s the plan?”

I hated that they were looking at me as if I were suddenly Alpha. I wasn’t. I wasn’t my mother. I wasn’t ready. But I was the eldest here. And my sisters were gone.

I took a breath. “We need to...”

A sound like the world itself tearing cut me off.

A portal ripped open above us, no gentle shimmer, no slow ripple, just a violent tear of light and sound, silver exploding through the ceiling and swirling like a cyclone.

Granalf yelped. Everyone else shouted or shielded themselves.

And then...She was there. My mother.

Elowen Skye Thorne, the kind of queen legends sharpen their teeth on.

She stood in full divine glow, her hair rippling like living moonfire, and magic coiling around her skin like a second aura. Her mates flanked her, each radiating impossible, dangerous power. Vaelrix burned. Ashrian shadowed. Daxon glowed molten silver. Bram shook the earth with each inhale. Lachlan’s runes crackled with stormlight.

They didn’t walk into the room. They materialized like a prophecy. Nyx would’ve fainted from excitement if she were here. I couldn’t breathe. None of us could. The presence of gods clung to them like stardust.

“Mom...” I began.

“No.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it shook. “You will NOT launch a rescue without the adults.”

Her eyes, glowing blue fire, swept across every single one of us.

“You are powerful,” she said softly, “but nothing compared to Raelith. Nothing. Raelith is wielding stolen chaos magic you are not trained to counter. She would slaughter you before you reached the edges of her domain.”

Rowan stepped forward, his voice cracking. “But they’re our sisters, our family....”

“And that is why you must live,” she answered gently. “All of you.”

Nyx and Lyrielle weren’t even here and yet her voice trembled on their names.

“I am watching over them,” she promised. “I am protecting them. And Chaos…”

Her jaw clenched. Magic flared.

“…Chaos is with me. With us. You must trust that.”

Lachlan’s voice rumbled next. “Yer mum speaks true. Ye cannae go runnin’ in like maddened pups. Ye’d die afore ye lifted a blade.”

Rowan blinked. “Holy shit, you really talk like that? Even in the divine realm?”

“Aye,” Lachlan said with a grin. “I’m nae stoppin’ just because everything’s shiny.”

Even now, in the middle of panic, he made a few kids choke-laugh.

Vaelrix stepped forward. “Focus on staying alive. Protect the Academy. Train. Stay sharp. If Raelith strikes here again, you will be the front line.”

Ashrian’s shadows curled around his feet. “We’ve trained you since childhood for moments exactly like this. Remember everything.”

Bram nodded. “Your parents trust you. Trust yourselves. But stay put.”

Daxon, my dad, looked right at me. "Son, I'm trusting you. Protect them. We love you."

My throat tightened. “Mom… please…”

She came to me first. Of course she did. Slid her hands along my cheeks and pressed her forehead to mine.

“My son,” she whispered. “My wild wolf child. I need you safe. I need you leading them. I need you alive when your sisters come home.”

Something inside me cracked and shattered. She kissed my head, then stepped back, addressing all of us.

“Continue training. Hold the Academy. Listen to Taya and Rivena. We will aid you from above.” Her voice thickened. “I’m coming back. One way or another.”

The portal ripped open again. And she was gone. Just like that. Silence strangled the room.

Then Rowan muttered, “…That was fucking terrifying.”

Theo nodded fast. “Divine power level ten. Maybe eleven. Eleven point five. I’m sweaty.”

Maeve burst into tears. Kaelen pulled her close.

Seren hissed and kicked a training dummy so hard it exploded.

Azara whispered, “We have to be strong. For them.”

I scrubbed my hands over my face. “We need to get our heads straight. Let’s go to the cellar. We all need.....something.”

“Alcohol,” Finnian said.

“Blood,” Seren added.

“Chaos cookies,” Theo suggested.

Kerra blinked. “Is that a thing?”

“It should be,” he muttered.

We shuffled out together, sluggish, wounded, and trying not to fall apart. Down into the hidden staircase behind the old tapestry, down into the underground student-run bar/blood bank/club that every adult pretended not to know about.

It smelled like sin and spilled liquor.

Rowan and Maeve brushed hands the entire walk. Not obvious. But not denying it either.

Once inside, we commandeered a booth. Shots were poured, five in rapid succession, and all of us slammed them back like we were trying to drown panic.

Granalf finally stopped pacing. Then he froze.

“Drayen.”

His voice dropped to a low, hungry growl. “Do you smell that?”

I paused mid-shot. At first I thought it was someone’s perfume.

Then I realized it.

Melted sugar. Warm vanilla. Bubblegum.

My heart stopped.

Granalf roared with delight.

“She’s here,” he howled. “Our mate.”
___________________________________

Gisella Drakaryn POV

The Academy Cellar pulsed with low music and witchfire lanterns, the kind of buzzing underground energy that made students reckless and staff pretend they didn’t notice. I wiped the sweat from my neck as I flopped into the booth across from my little sister, Mika, who was nervously shredding a napkin.

“You need to chill,” I told her, pushing a shot glass toward her. “You’re going to shake yourself into a coma.”

She groaned. “My dragon rider trials are in two weeks, Gisella. TWO.”

“You’ll be fine. Eliana says you’re dramatic.”

Mika glared at me. “Your dragon insults me more than you do.”

“That’s how she says she loves you.”

Mika downed the shot. “Then she loves me violently.”

I laughed and took a sip of mine. Nights like this were rare, me on break from cocktail shifts, Mika unwinding instead of studying herself into oblivion. I wanted this for her: a real Academy life. Friends. Magic. A future.

Me? I was just the older sister working extra hours to make sure she didn’t fail.

We were halfway through shot number three when the air changed.

A scent hit me so fast my spine locked.

Leather. Rain. Forest wolf. A spark of ancient moon-touched power. It wrapped around me thick and electric, like lightning had melted into perfume.

Inside me, Eliana, my dragon spirit, shot upright with a roar that rattled my bones.

“HOLY HELLFIRE, GISSELLA...our mate is HERE.”

“What...” I choked, gripping the table so hard it creaked.

Mika blinked. “Gis? What’s wrong?”

But I couldn’t answer. Because I turned. Not slowly. Not gracefully. Like gravity physically grabbed my chin.

And across the Cellar, in a booth lit by violet witchfire, a group of royals sat laughing and shoving each other, radiating the kind of confidence only powerful young fae ever had.

But I only saw one of them. He turned at the exact same moment....like someone had yanked him too.

Our eyes met. And my entire world flipped.

Tall. Broad. Muscles for days. Shaggy black hair falling into ice-gray eyes. A jaw that could cut stone. Sun-bronzed skin. A presence that hummed with alpha wolf power.

I knew him instantly. Drayen Stormclaw. The Queen’s eldest son. Heir to Aetheros. Literal prince of the fae-realm.

My breath broke. Eliana roared with joy.

“MATE. MATE. MATE!”

Drayen’s lips parted. His chest rose sharply.
His wolf must have been screaming, because he looked at me like someone had just carved his fate into reality.

Behind him sat Rowan, Theo, Eryk, Finnian, Kaelen, Maeve, Mae, Kerra and Seren, even Azara, Elowen’s whole damn second generation super-squad.

And Drayen wasn’t listening to a single one of them.

He was staring. At me. Me. Gisella Drakaryn. Cocktail waitress. Poor dragon girl. Zero titles. Zero legacy. Zero right to even breathe near him.

I swallowed hard and....My eyes raked down his chest. Those shoulders. Those arms.That stupid perfect V taper.

Before I could stop myself...I bit my lip. A stupid, tiny, traitorous nibble.

Eliana screamed. “OH I LIKE HIM ALREADY....BITE HIM NEXT.”

“Absolutely not,” I hissed back internally.

But it was too late. Drayen saw. He definitely saw.

His expression changed, his shock sharpening into something hungry and primal. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees, his eyes locked on my mouth.

Mika whispered, “Who in the ever-loving hell is he staring at like that?”

But I barely heard her. Because Drayen Stormclaw, heir, warrior, and living legend, slowly stood from his table.

His gaze never leaving mine. My pulse hammered. My legs went numb. Oh gods. He was coming toward me.

Mika squeaked. “Uh, Gis? Gisella? Why is THE Drayen Stormclaw walking over here like you owe him your soul?”

I couldn't breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but watch in stunned horror as Drayen crossed the Cellar with one goal....

Me.

His wolf aura rolled across the room like a stormfront.

And just as he reached striking distance....