Zane | ✔︎

Chapter Forty-Nine | The End of Knighthood.

The Priestess of Luna sat there. 

All alone in the forest of Delvia.

On a rock of black obsidian.

Her belly swollen with a child, a child given to her by the grace of her Goddess' blessing. 

And the reason why history was going to be made.

Oriana's blue eyes and equally icy, pale body were covered in sacred robes of white, robes of the temple she tended to every day, awaiting the night this baby would arrive. Her third trimester was difficult, but she never once cried.

In her heart, she could sense the pain residing in the King's castle, her eyes wandering beyond the dark trees with souls to look at the silhouette of the dark temple that held many horrors and secrets. 

Veera was in there.

She hadn't met Veera in weeks. 

Her letters were rejected by the guards from delivery, yet no news wouldn't have stopped her from feeling Veera's suffering.

And with those images of her getting raped and beaten in mind, her legs closed tighter.

With her small hands caressing the belly ever so softly, she remembered the first son she bore out of blessing as well. It was a night of great valour, just a few years ago, under the first Summer Moon of the year of Harvest. 

The pregnancy was seamless, and her birthing an omnipotent son of a Messiah was a sight. 

She couldn't stop loving him.

She prayed in her mind, prayed that the son she had to give up in the Shadow Moon Pack would be united with the daughter now growing in her body.

Oriana missed Pier. 

She knew Pier was not going to be a normal wolf, but a Lycan. 

She wondered if the daughter she was carrying, inevitably cursed by Veera to carry her instead, would also be a Lycan or not. 

She knew the books.

She knew it was Beda she was going to mother. 

And the very flower that was her favourite, a comfort flower she would always grow in the temple of Luna, suited to be the name given to her human form.

Azalea. 

Oriana loved the flowers of Azalea. 

And she only hoped that if Pier were to meet Azalea, maybe even Lydorius would do so too. 

Because she knew she wouldn't be alive to witness her children's fight.

But her spirit wouldn't leave them alone either. 

"Zane Knight," Oriana whispered under her breath, her voice benevolent and terrifying, an image of a small boy with dark brown hair and black eyes coming to her head. 

"Know that my Azalea shall always love you, even in your wrath."

𓂃 ֙

The red-eyed madman looked outside his car's window with a sip of his Earl Grey tea, watching as most of the violent, bloodthirsty men outside, already covered in clan soil were ready to hurt someone.

His eyes dared to change from red to green, and from green to black.

His calloused hands, covered in rings, almost cracked knuckles from the sight of his army.

In the distance, he could already hear the cries of his victims. He could make out some wails, some bones cracking, and some children getting mutilated. It fueled his mission. It fueled his innate desire to take everything that they had.