Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 137: Shadow Under the Blood Moon Part 1

Narinder, with extreme care, moved Lambert and Goliath so that their bodies fit together in an embrace that seemed tailor-made. The lamb, with its delicate, soft white wool, now rested closer to his chest, while the goat, with its rough gray fur, rested beside him, imposing but vulnerable in its sleep. With both of them in his arms, Narinder felt a comforting warmth that was not just physical, but deeply emotional, as if the weight of the past and the shadows of his mind were fading away for a moment.

His hands moved tenderly, caressing the fur of both of them. Lambert's wool was like a cottony refuge, soft and light to the touch, while Goliath's fur offered a rough but comforting contrast, a texture that spoke to him of strength and survival. He was careful, making sure not to wake them, but every movement carried with it a fondness that could only come from the love he had for them.

With a low sigh, Narinder looked away at the ceiling of the room, where shadows danced subtly under the dim light coming through the window. Echoes of the dream still echoed in his mind, a tangle of questions and possible answers that kept him restless. Had it been an effect of madness? Residual magic from the red crown? Had he really sealed his own powers away when he left the veil, hiding them in the relic? The black chain around the claw... was it just a symbol or something deeper?

A soft murmur escaped from Lambert, drawing his attention back. Looking at the lamb, Narinder felt a knot in his chest, but not from sadness, but from pure admiration. Lambert seemed so fragile and yet so beautiful in his dream. Her delicate features were accentuated with the serenity that only rest could grant her: the soft curves of her face and her peaceful expression.

Narinder then turned his gaze to Goliath, who, despite his relaxed posture, exuded an imposing presence even in sleep. The goat's rugged appeal was undeniable: his angular features, the powerful structure of his body, and that contrast between his rough attitude and the peace he radiated at that moment. Goliath murmured something in his sleep, a low, guttural sound that made Narinder smile tenderly.

A thought crossed his mind: this night had not been perfect, not as he had idealized it. The shadows in his mind and the memories of the dream had been a burden. But as he looked at Lambert and Goliath, asleep next to him, he felt something he had not felt in a long time: fulfillment.

For the first time, Narinder had both of them at his side, together, sharing not only warmth, but also a future full of possibilities. He stroked their fur again, and this time he closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the moment without further questions or concerns. Dawn was still far away, but for the first time in a long time, Narinder was in no hurry to face it.

The rooster's crowing echoed throughout the cult, but it was not a particularly harmonious sound. It seemed that the poor animal had gone through a restless night, and its morning call was more of a painful whimper than a greeting to the dawn. However, that was enough to wake the cultists, who began to emerge from their huts yawning and stretching in the dim light of dawn.

In the main room, Lambert was the first to open his eyes. Still half asleep, he looked up and saw Narinder watching him with that mix of tenderness and serenity that always made him feel safe. Lambert stretched a little, his wool ruffled by sleep, and with a soft smile said,
—Good morning, my god.

Before Narinder could respond, Lambert leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. It was a sweet kiss, full of love and gratitude, a gesture so simple yet meaningful that it seemed to fill the room with warmth. Narinder responded just as gently, caressing the lamb's cheek as the moment seemed to stretch out in time, oblivious to anything else in the world.

However, the sudden movement behind them broke the spell. Goliath, who had just woken up, watched them with an expression halfway between displeasure and discomfort. The blush on his cheeks was evident, but his mocking and grumpy tone tried to hide it:
—So, what? Huh? Now our intersections are going to be this cheesy and cloying?