Wealth. Material comfort. I used to imagine how it would feel to finally have them. A bed of my own. Silk sheets brushing my skin. Chandeliers casting golden light over me. The scent of divinity in the air. I thought once I had it all I'd be happy.
But I wasn't.
I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even try. Not when my soon-to-be stepbrothers had made it very clear during dinner that they weren't okay with tomorrow's wedding.
The tension at dinner had been suffocating, and now my throat felt dry, parched from stress. I debated whether to go down to the kitchen for a glass of water but hesitated.
What if I ran into one of them? Or worse… Flame?
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the soft sound of rain tapped against the windowpane. Soothing at first, but not enough to quiet my mind. I got up and crept silently to the door.
Peeking out, I saw nothing. Just the silence of a sleeping mansion. My mother had retired with Dafwem. I didn't need to wonder what they'd be doing with weather like this.
I tiptoed through the hallway and down the stairs, making my way toward the kitchen. I'd seen the butler take dishes there after dinner, so I knew where to go.
The silence felt eerie, too complete. When I finally reached the kitchen, I reached for the light switch and froze.
Someone was already there.
Blackmoon. The werewolf.
He stood leaning casually against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, his hazel eyes pinned on me. I instinctively stepped back. My heart pounded. Why was he here? Was he… waiting for me?
"Come in," he said calmly but didn't move. I Couldn't move.
"Come in," he repeated, this time stepping aside to give me space.
I swallowed the panic rising in my throat and walked in slowly. Cautiously. I reached for a glass and began to fill it with water when his voice came again, calm and disarming.
"You want a payment?"
I froze mid-action, turning my head to face him slowly. His gaze met mine, steady, unreadable. For a second, everything else faded. Just his eyes. They appear sharp, intelligent, and strangely intense.
"What do you want?" he asked again.
"W… Water," I stammered.
He raised an eyebrow, glanced down at my trembling fingers, and sighed. Then, unexpectedly, he stepped forward and took the glass from me, filling it with water himself. His fingers had brushed against mine lightly.
"I did some research on you and your mom," he said. "She was an orphan who fell in love with a man who didn't see her worth. Pregnant with you at nineteen. She's struggled every day since."
He turned and handed me the glass, our eyes locking once more.
"You want her happy, don't you?"
I swallowed hard. He was right.
I nodded.
"Then you can't come into this family," he said flatly. "You're not meant to be a Godlike. Your mother… she needs someone who can love. My father isn't capable of that. I'll pay you if I have to. Just take the advice while you still can. Don't let her marry him."
His words hit like a stone to the chest.
Pay us off? Pay… with what?
"My mother's happiness isn't for sale," I said, my voice soft but firm and I saw a frown suddenly appears on his face.
He didn't expect that. I could see it in the way his brow furrowed deeper. They'd all mistaken my silence for weakness.
"If she's happy with your dad… then there's nothing I can do to stop her."
He studied me again, this time longer. Like he was trying to figure out what I really meant. I looked down at the cup in my hand, surprised I didn't feel thirsty anymore.
"You know who I am?" he asked suddenly.
The shift in his tone made me look up. Something had changed in his eyes. Cold now. Hard.
"You… you're Blackmoon," I stuttered.
He shook his head.
"What's my identity?"
"A werewolf?"
"You know my brothers. Are they human?"
His questions sent a chill down my spine. I shook my head slowly.
"Then tell me… for a man to father six supernatural sons, what do you think he is? A human? Someone capable of love?"
I didn't respond.
"He's the god of chaos," Blackmoon said coldly. "And before he unleashes that chaos on you or your mother… find a way out. Okay?"