Moonlit Vows Of Vengeance

Chapter 120: Word From Lucas

The first rays of dawn spilled across the bed like soft gold. Warmth filtered through the sheer curtains, brushing against my skin. I woke slowly, blinking into the light, the memory of last night wrapping itself around me like a second skin.

Kieran was still beside me, one arm draped loosely over my waist, his breath steady against my shoulder. For once, there was peace in his face. The warrior lines had eased, and he looked younger, almost boyish, like the world hadn’t carved its weight into his bones yet.

I turned my head slightly, watching him sleep. My hand hovered above his chest, just barely brushing the curve of his collarbone.

And then I stilled.

Because I felt it again—that guilt, like a shadow slithering under my ribs.

Lucas.

His name flickered through me like a buried ember. Not just because of what we’d once shared, but because of the silence. Because he and Lyra had been gone too long. Because I hadn’t heard from them since the ritual. Since everything started unraveling.

I shifted slightly, trying to rise without waking Kieran.

But his eyes opened the moment I moved.

"You’re not slipping away, are you?" His voice was rough with sleep, low and warm.

"No," I said softly, brushing his hand. "I just... needed air."

He studied me for a moment, searching. Then he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

"Then let’s breathe together," he murmured.

I smiled faintly. "We should get dressed."

He rolled onto his back with a sigh. "Reality always ruins mornings like this."

I sat up, reaching for the silk robe draped across the foot of the bed. "Reality hasn’t knocked yet. But it will."

And right on cue, a firm knock echoed at the chamber door.

I closed my eyes briefly. "There it is."

Kieran was already on his feet, tugging on his tunic as he crossed the room. He cracked the door open and muttered with whoever stood on the other side before turning to me.

"It’s Fiona. She says it’s urgent."

I tied my robe tighter and motioned for her to come in.

Fiona entered quickly, her expression grim. "We received a hawk this morning. From Lyra."

My heart jumped.

"She said that she and her brother reached the northern marshes," Fiona continued. "But they encountered more than they expected. Something ancient is stirring there. Not just the river clans, but something very dangerous. Lyra said it keeps speaking your name."

"My name?" I stepped closer, my pulse picking up.

"Yes. It called you *She Who Fell Twice.*"

My stomach turned. That wasn’t a mortal phrase. That was divine.

"She’s asking for permission to return with her brother.

The silence between us stretched.

"Send a hawk back," I said. "Tell them not to return. Or wait, I’ll prepare something from the archives."

Fiona nodded, but she didn’t move.

"There’s more," she said. "This one came... separately."

She handed me a second scroll, the seal already broken.

It was Lucas’s handwriting.

Athena,

There is something you must know. Something I’ve only just confirmed.

There is a god among us, but he does not wear a god’s face. He walks in mortal skin, hidden, even from the divine. He calls himself Aetherion. And he seeks Caelum. Not to stop him... but to crown him.

—Lucas

I stared at the parchment until the words blurred.

Kieran read it over my shoulder, and I felt his posture shift behind me.

"Do you believe him?" he asked.

"I don’t know what I believe," I said, voice tight. "But Lucas has never lied to me about danger."

Fiona glanced between us. "Is there a problem? Should I inform the outer guard?"

"No, you may leave." I said quickly. "

As soon as she left, Kieran folded his arms. "This changes everything."

"It always changes," I whispered, moving to the balcony, the breeze curling around my bare legs. "I thought Caelum was the apex. The monster behind the veil. But if others remain—if they’re already here..."

"You need your power back," Kieran said quietly.

I met his eyes.

And for the first time, I admitted it out loud.

"I’m not enough without it."

"You’re more than enough to me."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to sink back into the warmth of his bed and pretend the world wasn’t unraveling at the seams. But there was no time.

"I need to return to the Divine Rift," I said.

He blinked. "You can’t go back there alone."

"I won’t. Not yet. I need to prepare. I need to know if what Lucas saw is real—and how to find *Aetherion* if it is."

"You’re not doing this without me."

I turned, facing him fully. "Kieran, I need you here. If this... creature is inside our walls, I need you watching. You’re the strongest werewolf that I know"

"I’m not just your sword, Athena."

"No," I said softly. "You’re my compass. Which is why I trust you to hold the line until I return."

He stepped close again, his hands settling on my hips.

"I don’t want to wait another decade to touch you," he said.

"You won’t," I promised. "But I need to go while the trail is still warm."

The longing in his eyes was mirrored in my chest.

We stood there, forehead to forehead, with everything breaking and nothing said.

And then he kissed me.

Lucas’s POV

The marsh stank of old blood and moss.

Lyra moved ahead of me, her feet light despite the sinking mud. She’d grown sharper over the past weeks—quieter, deadlier, her eyes colder. We weren’t the same wolves who had left Athena’s palace. We couldn’t be.

"Something’s watching," she whispered, pausing near a crooked root.

I felt it too. Not just eyes. A presence. Vast. Hungry. Dangeruous.

The reeds shivered. The water rippled.

And then the air bent.

He stepped from the fog like he’d always been there.

A man, tall and pale. Not quite human, not quite beast. His eyes were starless voids, and his smile was too calm.

"You bear her scent," he said, voice like smoke. "The fallen goddess."

Lyra’s hand went to her blade.

I stepped forward. "Who are you?"

He tilted his head, amused. "You knew me once. Before names mattered."

"Aetherion."

He didn’t deny it. "You’ve come far for truths you won’t survive."

I clenched my fists. "Then speak quickly."

But he only smiled wider.

"Caelum rises. And when he does, she will fall again. This time... permanently."

Athena’s Pov

The moonlight poured through the windows like liquid silver, catching on the fine embroidery of the curtains and the pale curve of Kieran’s bare shoulders as he stood by the window.

"You should sleep," he said, voice rough from the night’s demands.

I shook my head. "I won’t find peace in sleep tonight."

He walked toward me, his steps slow, unhurried, and knelt in front of me.

"You’re carrying too much again," he said gently, placing his hands on my thighs. "You don’t have to bear all of it alone."

I reached out and threaded my fingers through his hair, grounding myself in the familiar strength of him. "It’s not that simple. There’s always more. Another betrayal. Another expectation. Another war on the horizon."

He looked up at me. "But in this moment, there’s only you and me."

Something in my chest cracked open. The pain I had buried beneath my ribs all night—the fear, the fury, the ache of holding power with hands that were still healing—rose like a tide.

"I don’t want to be strong right now," I whispered.

Kieran stood slowly and drew me to my feet. His hands moved to the clasp of my robe, undoing it with reverent care, peeling it away from my shoulders like he was unveiling something sacred. I let him.

My breath caught as his eyes roamed over me, not with hunger, but with something deeper. Worship. Grief. Love.

He cupped my face. "You’re mine. You’re mine. Let me remind you."

I didn’t speak.

I kissed him.

The moment our lips met, the rest of the world melted away. His hands slid down my back, pressing me flush against him, and I felt the strength in his grip, the promise in his touch.

He lifted me gently and laid me back on the bed like I was made of something precious. I reached for him, needing him closer, needing to forget everything except this.

His body covered mine, every line of him fitting against me like a second skin. His mouth moved over my throat, my collarbone, slow and patient, until I was trembling beneath him.

"Kieran," I whispered.

"I’m here," he murmured against my skin. "I’m always here."

He entered me with a groan that sent shivers down my spine, filling me with the only kind of certainty I’d known in weeks. I wrapped my arms around him, my legs around his waist, anchoring myself to him as he moved within me.

We didn’t rush. We didn’t speak. We just breathed together, moved together, hearts beating in sync. Every thrust was a vow, every moan a confession.

Tears burned in the corners of my eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming release of holding too much for too long. He kissed them away, whispering words I didn’t fully hear but felt in my soul.

I clung to him as he moved faster, deeper, our bodies burning with something holy. My nails scratched down his back as the waves of pleasure built inside me, tightening and cresting until I shattered around him with a cry I didn’t recognize as my own.

He followed me seconds later, groaning my name into my neck as he spilled into me, his body shaking from the force of it.

We lay together afterward, tangled in sweat and sheets, hearts still racing.

I turned to him, resting my hand over his chest. "Promise me this won’t change when the war comes."

He kissed my forehead. "The world can change, gods can fall, kingdoms can burn. But this—" he took my hand and pressed it to his heart, "—this is mine. Always."

I closed my eyes and let myself believe him.

Just for tonight.

The night was quiet. For once.

Kieran’s arm was draped loosely around my waist, his breathing even and warm against the back of my neck. I had drifted into sleep not long ago, lulled by the afterglow of what we had shared—the soft steadiness of his presence, the kind of intimacy that made me forget, for just a little while, the storm always waiting at the edge of my thoughts.

But peace never stayed for long.

At first, it was a strange fluttering sensation in my fingertips. Then a pulse through my chest, like something stirring beneath my ribs.

I gasped.

My back arched against the sheets as an invisible force ripped through me.

The shaking began.

First subtle—like a chill crawling across my skin—but then my body jerked violently, spasms seizing me in waves. My legs kicked out. My arms trembled uncontrollably. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t scream.

Just tremble.

The sheets twisted around me, my limbs thrashing, breath torn from my lungs.

Kieran jolted awake behind me.

"Athena?" His voice was sharp with panic. "Athena!"

He sat up, gripping my shoulders, but I couldn’t look at him—my eyes were wide, unseeing, fixed on the ceiling that now looked like it was bending and rippling like water.

"I—can’t—" I gasped, but the words choked off in my throat.

My skin burned.

The marks on my body—faint, divine sigils I had carried since my rebirth—flared suddenly, a brilliant silver-white light that pulsed through the room.

Kieran cursed under his breath, holding me tighter. "What’s happening? Talk to me!"

I couldn’t. Not with my jaw clenched so tight it ached.

Then, suddenly, the shaking stopped. noveldrama

Just as violently as it had begun.

My body collapsed back into the mattress, drenched in sweat, lungs heaving like I had run miles. My muscles twitched and cramped beneath my skin. I blinked, finally able to look at him.

He looked terrified.

His hands cupped my face, gently brushing back damp strands of hair.

"Athena. What was that?"