Chapter 141 - Mobilizing

Chapter 141 - Mobilizing
Chapter 39 - Mobilizing

Elowen POV

The divine realm was a strange mix of peace and torment. Training with Selene left my bones buzzing with power I barely understood, and yet the stillness afterward cut sharper than any blade. I wasn’t built for stillness. I wasn’t built to watch from above.

Chaos hummed inside me like a caged star, pacing and muttering about tearing Raelith apart piece by bloody piece. Lysirra paced right alongside her.

“We are stronger than gods now,” she growled inside me. “She steals our children and expects patience? I want her head.”

“So do I,” I whispered back, my breath trembling.

Daxon heard it, even from across the marble terrace where he sat watching the divine viewing pool shimmer with images of the mortal realm. He had grown stronger, infused with the same chaotic celestial energy I now held. His new tattoos glowed whenever he breathed deeply, rippling like ink shifting beneath skin.

Both of us knew the truth neither of us wanted to speak. We would not be allowed back.

Not like this. Not with power that could unmake continents by accident.

Selene had been gentle in the telling, but gentle truth still stabbed.

Daxon exhaled slowly. “They’re still at the Cellar.”

I moved beside him, curling under his arm as he shifted me into his lap. His warmth steadied me, grounding me the way he always had.

The viewing pool rippled again. Deep in the academy’s underground bar, the dim lights pulsed, shadows swayed, and our son… beautiful, wild Drayen Stormclaw… was standing with his new mate in his arms.

Half drunk. Half feral. Entirely proud of himself.

His wolf had exploded with delight, so loudly Lysirra still snickered about it.

Gisella...gods, she was stunning. A fire-souled dragon with molten magic in her eyes and a laugh that hit the bond between her and Drayen like a spark to oil. She clung to his shoulders, still breathless, and still flushed from the claiming bite that marked her visibly.

I felt Daxon smile into my hair when Drayen nipped his mate’s collarbone playfully and she swatted him.

“Look at him,” Daxon murmured. “Absolutely unashamed he nearly ate her in front of thirty people.”

“He gets that from your side,” I teased.

“He gets the feral part from you,” Daxon countered, brushing a kiss to my cheek.

Maybe. Probably.

I watched them, my heart swelling with pride and fear and something bittersweet. Gisella was strong. Drayen’s equal. His anchor. His fire. They would need each other for the battles coming.

Chaos curled around my ribs, whispering again. “Mate bonds make warriors harder to break. Good. They will need everything.”

Daxon hummed softly beside me. “Do you think he’ll have more mates?”

I swallowed.

“It’s… possible,” I admitted. “He’s strong. He’s elemental and wolf and dragon-blooded. The gods love to tangle destinies when the soul can bear it.”

Daxon chuckled. “He’ll handle it.”

“He will.”

But something in my chest tightened. Because we wouldn’t be there to guide him. We wouldn’t be there for any of them.

The thought sliced something in me so deep Chaos went silent in shock.

Daxon must have sensed the shift because he pulled my hand into his and squeezed.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

My eyes burned.

“Let me see the girls,” I breathed.

Daxon reached out and the viewing pool shifted. Darkness replaced the warm firelight of the Cellar. Cold stone. Blood-forged bars. Heavy chains etched with spells that I recognized far too well.

My daughters. My beautiful, brave daughters. Nyxaria. Lyrielle.

And their mates, the Velmira twins, who were now their bonded partners in every way.

All four of them were trapped in that twisted cage Raelith once used on Soria and Varek.

My stomach knotted.

Lyrielle was curled against Rhaen’s chest, her face blotchy from crying but still furious, glowing faintly where her scales peeked through. Nyxaria held Lucen’s limp hand, whispering to him in broken, trembling breath.

They were trying to be strong.

But they were terrified.

Chaos snarled, shaking the divine realm’s air. Lysirra shoved against my ribs like she wanted to tear through worlds to reach them.

I pressed my palms to the pool’s surface and let magic flow, gentle, warm, shimmering threads of chaos woven with moonlight.

My voice drifted through the veil, soft enough not to alert Raelith.

“My sweet ones… I’m here. I see you. I love you.”

Lyrielle’s head jerked up. Nyxaria gasped. Lucen’s fingers twitched weakly. Rhaen’s breath hitched.

I sent more warmth, and more comfort and healing.

“You are not alone. You are not forgotten. Hold on a little longer, my loves.”

Chaos shook inside me again, wanting war, but goddess-law bound my hands. One wrong move and Raelith would spill their blood just to spite me.

I had to wait.

I hated waiting more than anything I had ever hated in my life.

Daxon touched my back gently. “Show me someone else. Please.”

His voice had cracked. I shifted the pool again.

This time the image sharpened into the Stormclaw Keep in Minnesota. Snow piled high against the doors. And my heart broke before I even saw him.

Alpha Draven Stormclaw sat slumped at his kitchen table, a bottle of cheap whisky half gone. His hair was longer now, more gray streaking through it, and his beard was untrimmed. His eyes were hollow. Totally empty.

My father-in-law. My friend. My first real protector after my own father died.

He looked… lost....and so unbelievably alone.

Daxon made a sound I had never heard from him. A wounded, broken sob.

“That’s my dad,” he choked. “Gods..El… he’s...he’s not okay. He’s not...he’s...fuck”

He covered his face with both hands.

Lysirra whimpered. Chaos pressed against my spine like it wanted to cradle him.

“I can’t leave him like that,” Daxon whispered. “He’s alone. He thinks we abandoned him. He thinks he lost me forever.”

No mother could watch their mate fall apart without moving. And no goddess could watch a loyal man drown in sorrow when hope was right here.

I stood. The divine air crackled.

“Open a rift,” I commanded.

Chaos surged in agreement. Lysirra barked inside me.

Daxon’s head snapped up. “We’re… going to him?”

“Yes.”

“But El...”

“Yes,” I said again, louder.

And with a tear of light, a rift opened over Alpha Draven’s kitchen table, shimmering with silver chaos and moonfire.

Draven jerked upright, his chair crashing backward. Whisky spilled across the floor.

“El?” His voice broke. “Daxon?”

We stepped through. Daxon didn’t walk. He ran.

“Dad,” he whispered, catching Draven in a tight embrace. “Dad...gods...Dad...”

Draven made a sound like his soul cracked open. His arms wrapped around his son so fiercely I thought ribs might break.

“You’re alive,” he sobbed. “You’re alive..”

I touched Draven’s shoulder gently. “We’re okay,” I whispered. “We’re safe. The kids… they need you. They need you desperately.”

Draven pulled back, wiping his face. “They’re in danger.”

“Yes.”

“I’m coming,” he said instantly.

“There’s a portal waiting at the Minnesota ley line,” I assured him. “Please go. Please be with them. Tell them we love them.”

He nodded once. And then he pulled Daxon back into one more rough, trembling hug.

“I’m proud of you,” Draven whispered. “I’m proud of all of you.”

“We love you,” Daxon breathed.

And then the rift pulled us backward, back to the divine realm.

Daxon hit his knees when we landed, his breath shaking.

I dropped beside him, pulling him into me.

“I wasn’t ready,” I finally admitted, the words ripping me open. “I wasn’t ready to leave them. I wasn’t ready to leave any of them...”

He wrapped his arms around me fiercely, holding me together when my heart tried to splinter. “I know,” he whispered. “I know. I’m here.”

Footsteps rushed in behind us. Vaelrix. Ashrian. Bram.
Lachlan. All four of my other mates slid in around us without hesitation.

Warm bodies. Warm hands. Warm love.

“I’ve got ye, mo ghrá,” Lachlan murmured, his accent thick and aching as he stroked my face.

“We’re with you,” Bram said quietly.

“Always,” Ashrian added.

Vaelrix’s chest pressed to my back, and a low rumble vibrated through me. “Chaos doesn’t break alone. Neither will you.”

Surrounded by all of them, the grief finally loosened.

My children were in danger.

But the realms were moving.

And I would shatter heaven itself to get them all back.
_______________________

Taya POV

Wine did nothing to calm panic, but it sure made the edges fuzzy.

Rivena lounged sideways in a war room chair like she’d been melted into it, one boot on the table and a bottle dangling from her fingers. Amaris sat cross-legged on the war table itself, swirling her goblet like she was debating throwing it at someone. I paced the floor barefoot because I could not sit still without vibrating out of my own skin.

“We need a plan,” I muttered. “Something real. Something that isn’t ‘rush in and die.’”

“Plans are for sober people,” Amaris said with a sigh. “We are not those people right now.”

Rivena snorted. “Speak for yourself. I’m… well, no, never mind. I’m absolutely hammered.”

Zuki growled in my mind, sharp and irritated. “You three are a disaster. Sit down before you trip over your own anxiety.”

“I will not,” I snapped aloud.

Both women blinked at me.

“Zuki again?” Amaris asked.

“She’s calling me a disaster.”

“She’s not wrong,” Rivena called, raising her bottle in salute.

I was about to throw a cushion at her when the castle doors exploded open with a roar that didn’t come from any mortal throat. Boots thundered. Guards scrambled. A storm of power swept down the hall.

My heart nearly stopped. Alpha Draven Stormclaw.

Dark hair, sharp jaw, storm-grey eyes burning like a tempest, radiating fury and command so strong the castle itself seemed to brace.

I didn’t think. I launched myself across the room and into his arms.

“Alpha Draven!” My voice cracked. “You’re here, thank the fucking gods!”

He caught me hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs, squeezing in a way only an Alpha father figure could, grounding and devastating at the same time.

“Taya,” he rumbled, setting me down but keeping his hands on my shoulders. “Elowen and Daxon visited me.”

Everything in the room froze. Draven looked… shaken. That alone terrified me more than any prophecy.

“They’re changed,” he said quietly. “They look like gods. Power rolling off them. Untouchable. They… they aren’t coming back soon.”

My throat closed. Zuki snapped in my mind. “Do not collapse. Not yet.”

“What did they say?” I whispered.

“That the children need me. That you all need me.” His jaw clenched. “And that Raelith has them.”

A ragged breath tore from my lungs. Then suddenly the Alpha snapped into full command mode.

“Get Kylion. Ravek. Rylen. Jace. Everyone. We restructure the defense lines immediately.”

Guards sprinted.

“Amaris,” he barked, “check the ley lines. I want every breach point mapped.”

Amaris nodded sharply, wine forgotten.

“Rivena, prep the witches. If we need a mass teleport or barrier reinforcement, you’re leading.”

Rivena stood like she hadn’t been drunk a single second. “Yes, Alpha.”

Then he looked at me, really looked at me, his voice dropping low.

“Taya, breathe.”

I tried. It felt like drowning.

“I feel like I’m failing her,” I whispered. “The kids, too.”

Draven cupped my cheek with a warm, callused hand.

“You haven’t failed anything. And you won’t be doing this alone. None of this is your fault."

Zuki hummed in satisfaction. “Told you. You are not alone.”

Draven gave me a small, sad smile.

“Let’s get to work,” I whispered.

Alpha Draven nodded, the storm in him steady and lethal.

“Good girl.”