Page 46

Seren

There was no pain—just silence.

When Seren woke, it was to softness.

The ground beneath her felt like velvet moss, cool and oddly comforting. The air shimmered like a watercolour painting—nothing held form for long. The sky was a wash of blues and lavender, and the trees—if they could be called that—swayed gently as if painted with restless hands.

She stood.

The landscape shifted as she walked, colours bleeding and reforming with every step. Hills turned into waves. Paths rippled like silk beneath her bare feet.

And ahead—up a gentle slope—waited a single tree. Gnarled and golden, standing sentinel before a swirling veil of silver mist.

As Seren approached, the mist began to stir—not gently, but violently, like a storm trapped in a bottle.

A low, thrumming sound vibrated through the ground beneath her feet. The air thickened, pressing in around her chest. The tree's twisted branches creaked and twisted as if bowing in anticipation .

The veil of mist before her rippled.

Then it split.

With a hiss like tearing silk, the fog peeled open—glowing silver at the seams—and something stepped through.

The world seemed to hold its breath.

First came the sound of anklets—clink, clink, clink—and then the flash of bare feet, dark and dusted with ash. Her silhouette was enormous. Not bulky, but boundless—like it refused to be contained by the dimensions of reality.

A woman.

Or... something wearing the idea of one.

She moved like smoke and fire, each step echoing with the weight of stars.

Her skin was dark as midnight, luminous, shifting like oil under moonlight.

Her hair was a wild halo of coiling shadow, crowned in gold and skulls that grinned with secrets.

She wore almost nothing—just gold and bone, silk and flame.

Four arms moved in a slow, fluid rhythm—serpentine. In one hand she held a golden trident that sparked like lightning. In another, a severed lotus dripping with black nectar .

Her lips curled into a red smile, too wide, too sharp.

Her eyes—oh gods, her eyes—were pools of endless darkness. No pupils. No light. Just void.

A halo flickered behind her head, not of holiness, but power—untamed and ancient.

Seren staggered back a step.

The woman grinned, full of delight and danger.

"Well," she purred, voice velvet and venom, showing gleaming silver fangs. "Aren't you a pretty little mortal."

Seren's breath caught.

She had expected moonlight and gentleness.

She got something else entirely.

The creature cocked her head and smiled, wide and fang-toothed.

"Oh, darling. Let me guess—you were expecting pale glowing skin, flowing white hair, and the personality of a doe-eyed saint?" She gave a breathy mock sigh and rolled all four wrists. "That's the PR team's version. I'm the real deal. "

Seren just stared.

The creature beamed. "Surprised? I AM the Moon Goddess, pretty morsel. But this"—she gestured to her own glorious monstrosity—"is the part they don't put in the stained glass."

She circled Seren slowly, all four arms moving with sinuous grace. "Now. Let's talk about your fated. That arrogant, tragically attractive arse." Her eyes glittered with malice. "Time to make him pay."

She rubbed her four hands together gleefully. "Should we boil him in oil? Curse him with premature male pattern baldness? Ooooh—give him a tiny male part?"

Seren just blinked.

The goddess blinked innocently. "No? Not your style? Fine. You're no fun."

Her tone changed—sharp now, colder.

"The bond. The one you are going to beg me to sever." She twirled her trident like a baton. "I cannot break it."

Seren's heart dropped .

"Buuuuuut," the goddess purred, eyes narrowing, "I may have written in a loophole. I do love a good twist. Let’s keep this between the two of us. The sisters of fate don't need to know, right?"

Seren nodded like a puppet controlled by her master.

"I can shave it down to a single thread," the goddess said. "Thin as spider silk. Delicate. And if either of you"—she pointed one claw at Seren—"consummate with another, the bond will snap."

Gone. Dissolved.

"You'll have your own fate," she added. "Your own life. Choice, Seren. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Seren nodded slowly. "And... him?"

The goddess's grin widened. "Same. But there's a catch, darling. There's always a catch."

She stepped closer.

"Since you are the one to request severance—you must pay the price. The fates linked your elements to prophecy. That power must be returned."

Seren's voice cracked. "I'll give it up. All of it. Just... let me keep my bond with the animals. Please. "

The goddess paused.

"Well, damn," she muttered. "That was a letdown. I was expecting more drama. But that’s not like you, is it, Seren?"

She twirled, then sighed. "Fine. Because my lovers have pleased me today and I'm feeling generous, you may keep three of your gifts."

She snapped her fingers. "I'll take back two. As for your mate—" She rolled her eyes. "The shift speed, the strength? That wasn't some average bonding side-effect. That was you. You're like a walking power potion."

Seren looked away, bitter. "No wonder he doesn't want to let me go."

"Exactly," the goddess muttered, suddenly serious. "But don't be so sure, little light. All is not what it seems."

She paced a slow circle, four arms folded behind her back. Then she stopped and looked Seren dead in the eye.

"He'll keep that gift," she said.

Seren blinked. "He can? "

"Oh yes," the goddess said with a shrug. "One gift. As restitution—payment for your freedom. It's the only reason I'll allow it. Think of it as a consolation prize. There must be balance."

She smiled, baring her fangs. "But he won't feel it the same way. It'll be there—yes. But dull. Hollow. Like a blade missing its wielder. The joy of it will be gone."

She stepped close enough that Seren could see the galaxies swirling in her pupils. "You don't have to be anyone's supercharging battery, darling. Not anymore."

Her form flickered—eyes glowing red, claws lengthening, teeth gleaming. Black wings unfurled from her back, casting a shadow over the entire sky. Faster than the blink of an eye, she disappeared to appear behind Seren.

"Still," she snarled, showing all her glinting fangs, "he must be punished. He spat on the gifts of fate. Who does he think he is?"

Lightning flashed. Thunder cracked. Her voice had teeth.

Then, as quickly as it came, it faded.

She coughed delicately. "Sorry. Anger management."

She smoothed her practically non-existent skirt .

"You will no longer feel pain from the bond. No more pull. No more agony. It will be muted at your end. Your mating mark won't hurt anymore when another touches him with the wrong intent."

Her voice grew softer. "You will have a choice, Seren. Freedom."

Then her eyes darkened. "But he... he will ache. Every day. For your voice. For your touch. Until one of you takes the final step."

She stepped back.

"Well? Happy?"

Seren said nothing.

Her sorrow hung thick in the silence. This was not what she wanted. But it was how it had to be.

For a breath, the goddess's monstrous face softened. Just for a moment. A glimmer of compassion.

Then it was gone.

She rolled her neck. "Sentimentality is so exhausting."

She snapped her fingers once .

"It's done."

Her voice echoed like thunder.

"Enjoy your freedom, darling. Now run along—"

The mist behind Seren turned black, swirling like a storm.

"—it's time to wake up."

And then—

The world tilted.

The wind howled.

And she was sucked back into the vortex.