Page 48 of A Reign of Malice (Wolves of Lunara #3)

CHAPTER FORTY

AURORA

D amn those furballs. I kick the chair in front of me—solid marble, ancient, and priceless. It shatters like cheap pottery. A fitting metaphor for my mood.

I stalk across the chamber, throwing open the doors to my back patio and stepping into the open air. The horizon is blanketed in clouds, stretching in endless grays and whites. My sanctuary. My realm. The one place in all the godly spheres that should’ve remained untouched.

And yet, I let them in.

Wolves turned into shifters. God-born mongrels with too much will and not enough sense.

I let out a snarl as I remember the dead bodies on my floor and the way Isla’s emotions slammed into me like a wrecking ball. The guilt! She wielded that feeling like the world’s most precise weapon. One that I’d never experienced until then.

Nobody was supposed to get hurt. At least not that hurt. Hell, they weren’t even supposed to be here. I’d already decided not to involve them even though I knew the alpha blood would give us the advantage.

But then they had to need me. Had to send word for my help.

Really, they’re the ones who should feel guilty. Not me.

I merely took advantage of the opportunity they dropped right into my lap.

Each summer solstice, we indulge in a week of divine sport. A time for us to start friendly- ish wars within our factions, flexing our power while bending realms to our whims. This year was the tenth in a row that I intended to win.

And thanks to Theo and Estee’s melodramatic, star-crossed-lovers act, I almost lost.

Almost .

The golden trophy now sits smugly on my mantle, glinting in the firelight, mocking me. I should be celebrating. I should be wrapped in silk and wine, surrounded by the gods who helped me claim my victory, getting drunk as well as laid—not necessarily in that order.

But instead, I’m pacing.

Alone.

Thinking about them .

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I’m not supposed to care. Those fleabags were a joke gift from my father—living toys made to irk my brother, nothing more. I raised them into something remarkable, yes, but only because it amused me. They were never supposed to matter.

And yet…

They do.

Somewhere along the line, the toy became a cause. Their stubborn hope, their flawed bravery, their endless fucking loyalty wormed its way into me. And now I feel it. This strange, gnawing ache in my chest that doesn’t belong to a goddess who’s supposed to be untouchable.

Gods , how did I get here?

Laughter rolls toward me from below, carried by the wind from the after-party still raging in the clouds. I should go. I could go. I should wrap myself in pleasure and pretense, act as though Lunara never existed, never mattered, never burrowed its way under my skin.

But I stay.

Still waiting for Elyn to return.

She’s no longer a wolf. No longer just a healer. She’s something more now—something mine . A demi-god, crafted by my hands, blessed with my blood, imbued with just enough divine fire to ensure she outlives the world she was born into.

She’s perfect, efficient, and most importantly, she gives a damn in ways I shouldn’t .

That’s why she’s their liaison now. The wolves’ divine connection, their thread to me and my realm, it’s all on Elyn. And maybe, just maybe, giving her that title will buy me back the distance I desperately need.

Maybe if I don’t look too closely, I can go back to the way things were. Cold. Unbothered. Free.

But I know the truth, even as I lie to myself.

Because somewhere beneath all the chaos, beneath the bloodshed and divine strategy, one of those fleabags looked me in the eye and showed me kindness .

And the part of me that didn’t laugh in their face?

That’s the part that terrifies me most.

The clouds shift, pulling me from my own madness.

It’s subtle, barely a ripple in the sky, but I feel it.

She’s back .

I turn slowly, already bracing myself for whatever dramatic flourish she’s about to appear in.

But there’s no burst of light, no swirling vortex, no thunderclap.

Just Elyn—calm, quiet, newly divine in a way that feels earned rather than bestowed. She steps onto the balcony, her robes catching the breeze like they’re stitched from the light of dawn. Her eyes, once a soft violet, now gleam with an energy that mirrors my own.

“You’re late,” I say, because I don’t know how else to start.

She smiles like she’s humoring a child. “And you’re pacing.”

I scoff and turn my back to her, pretending to find something deeply fascinating about the sky. “Just stretching my legs. Definitely not waiting around like some lovesick mortal.”

Elyn steps beside me, her presence quiet but firm. “You were worried.”

“No,” I lie. “I’m annoyed. That’s different.”

She says nothing, which is somehow worse.

I sigh. Loudly. “Did they win?”

She nods. “Aeson is dead. The castle is rubble. Sloane and Julian live, as do the other royals.”

I hate the rush of relief that floods my chest. It’s uninvited and undignified.

“I assume you offered them the choice?” I ask, voice carefully neutral.

“I did. They’re staying. But not as rulers of Venaris.” Elyn’s gaze flicks toward the horizon, thoughtful. “Julian asked to unite the two kingdoms under Alcaris.”

I blink at her. “That was his idea?”

She nods again. “You were right about him. He just needed to remember who he was. ”

“I’m always right,” I mutter, crossing my arms.

This time, Elyn laughs deeply, and it echoes off the clouds like music.

“I told them about the curse,” she continues after a moment. “That it died with Aeson. Their water will run clean again. Their lands will thrive.”

I nod, feeling the tightness in my chest ease just slightly. But there’s one more thing I have to do. Just as I did before with Asher’s father.

When one of my wolves turns too dark, they don’t get a second chance to redeem themselves in the next life. Nothing, not even pesky mutts, will ruin what I’ve created.

“Elyn,” I say, still watching the clouds churn with a low, silvery glow. “Feel like taking a detour with me?”

She inclines her head, curious. “Where to?”

“The afterlife,” I answer casually. “Just a quick trip to erase an unwanted soul.”

She blinks then slowly walks back toward me. “You’re not going to let Aeson reincarnate.”

“Of course not,” I say, my jaw tight. “That vile creature isn’t broken. He’s poison. And poison spreads if you don’t burn it out at the root. You saw what he did. What he became . There’s no place for that kind of corruption in my creation. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

Elyn hesitates for only a breath before nodding. “Then let’s end it properly.”

I grin, wicked and sharp. “I knew I chose you for a reason.”

With a flick of my hand, the air around us thickens, stars folding in on themselves as a rip forms in the space between one breath and the next. The portal hums with divine energy, its edges gold and black like ink dipped in the night.

We step through .

The shift is immediate.

This part of the afterlife isn’t fire and brimstone, not unless I want it to be. It’s a field. Golden and endless and silent.

And standing in the center of it is Aeson.

Or what’s left of him.

He looks like a man stripped down to bone and shadow, eyes vacant, mouth stitched in confusion. He’s not snarling or defiant as I half-expected. He’s small. Diminished.

“Is he aware?” Elyn asks, her voice soft but guarded.

“Yes,” I murmur. “He’s tethered here and doesn’t know why. He’s made his choice to be reborn. Yet nothing has happened. Now he gets to learn the reason.”

Elyn stares at him, her posture relaxed. “I look forward to seeing you work.”

I nod then walk forward, my skin already itching from the pureness of the afterlife. This isn’t a part of our universe I prefer to spend time in.

Aeson lifts his head as I approach, eyes meeting mine, and for a flicker, I see a glimpse of the monster he was. The cruelty. The ambition. The hunger. It makes my job that much easier.

I raise my hand, power crackling at my fingertips.

“I warned you,” I whisper unforgivingly. “I don’t allow second chances.”

Light erupts, engulfing him in a blaze of searing white flames. No screams. No fanfare. Just the snapping finality of a soul coming undone.

When it fades, nothing remains.

Not even ash.

The wind shifts, sweet and clean.

I turn back to Elyn, who watches me with quiet awe. “It’s done,” I say .

She nods. “As it needed to be.”

We step through the fold again, the world sealing behind us with a soft shimmer. We’re back on the balcony, the sky beginning to darken as another day comes to an end.

“So,” I say, forcing nonchalance. “You’re not going back?”

She turns to me, her grin firmly set. “Not until you ask me to. My place is here. With the gods. With you .”

My throat tightens, and I look away too quickly. “Don’t say things like that. I’m emotionally unstable enough as it is.”

“I can tell,” she says with a chuckle, reaching out to touch my arm.

Her fingers are warm, centering me.

“You’ve always done the right thing, Aurora,” she says softly. “Now is no different.”

I shake my head. “Not always for the right reasons, though.”

“That doesn’t mean what you’ve done doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

We stand there in silence, the clouds parting around us, stars glittering overhead like scattered shards of fate.

“Are you ready to face the other gods?” I say as I turn to head back inside. “I hope you like chaos and deeply repressed feelings, because we have a celebration to make an appearance at.”

“I was raised by wolves,” she quips. “I think I’ll manage.”

That earns her a crooked smile.

Elyn begins to walk back inside ahead of me, but she pauses at the threshold. She glances over her shoulder, eyes sparkling with something I don’t want to name.

“It’s okay that you do care about them,” she reminds me.

I arch a brow. “Careful. That sounds dangerously like an accusation.”

She shrugs. “Caring won’t kill you. You’re a goddess. ”

I roll my eyes. “Noted. Now, can we get the hell out of here before I hug you or something equally horrifying.”

She holds an arm out for me to lead the way, choosing silence this time.

And for the first time, the quiet doesn’t feel empty.

Maybe I do care.

Just a little.

Gods help me.