Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 139: Shadow Under the Blood Moon Part 3

The night passed in the blink of an eye for Narinder. He had barely closed his eyes, or so it seemed, when the crowing of a rooster broke the silence of the early morning. However, in that brief moment of rest, he had found a haven of peace. Narinder remained embraced by his loves throughout the night, never letting go of them for a moment. His body, though tired, found comfort in the warmth of Lambert and Goliath.

Narinder's soft, steady purr resonated like an echo of his contentment. It was a low, serene sound that arose from deep within him, a reflection of the intimate connection he shared with them. Goliath, wrapped in his usual mix of roughness and tenderness, had spent the night clinging to Narinder's left side, while Lambert, with his usual sweetness, rested on his right, resting his head on the god's chest as if it were his natural place.

Narinder enjoyed every second of that fleeting moment, curled up between them. In his dreams, everything was calm, and when he woke up, that same warmth filled him with determination. Today would be the last day of the blood moon ritual, and with it, the tasks related to the ghosts would come to an end. Although it was not a difficult task, the burden of the white crown made every action feel exhausting. But as he felt the embraces of Lambert and Goliath, he knew he could face anything.

When he tried to move, Goliath murmured in his sleep, in an almost childish tone:
—Nooo... —tightening his embrace as if he wanted to chain him to the bed.

Narinder let out a soft laugh, purring again at the sight of the goat's vulnerable side. Lambert, as if sharing the same thought, also hugged him tighter, muttering something unintelligible but clearly focused on keeping him there.

"You guys are really stubborn," Narinder said quietly, not intending for them to hear him.

With much effort, and after several attempts to persuade his loves, he finally managed to get the three of them to start moving. Lambert was the first to open his eyes, although he clearly wanted to continue resting. He stretched with a yawn that ended in a small smile as he said, "Good morning, Narinder. I guess it's time to face the world again."

Goliath, on the other hand, protested more. He covered his face with his hands and murmured, "Five more minutes... or five hours."

Narinder had to intervene patiently, first stroking Lambert's ears and then Goliath's neck to encourage them to get up. After much effort, amidst yawns and complaints, the three finally managed to get ready. Lambert was the quickest, as usual, putting on his red cloak and bell with a calm smile. Goliath took more time, checking every detail, though in the end he seemed more alert after dousing his face with cold water.

Narinder, for his part, dressed with calculated movements, adjusting his robes elegantly. As he finished, he looked at his two companions with a mix of love and pride. Despite their small protests, they were together and ready to face whatever the day had in store for them.

With one last glance at the messy bed they had just left, Narinder smiled to himself. The connection between them was an anchor in his life, a constant reminder that even in the midst of chaos, he would always have a place to call home.

Lambert, despite his deep love for Narinder, enjoyed moments of solitude walking through the cult. With a calm smile, he walked among the structures he had built himself long ago, greeting the cultists and observing their activities. He stopped to watch as some worked in the garden, others looked after the children or simply rested under the light of the red moon, enjoying the peace that the cult offered them. Lambert breathed in the pure air, letting his mind clear. Every corner of the place reminded him of the sacrifices and triumphs that had brought them there, and that thought filled him with pride.

Goliath, for his part, had decided to do something more dynamic. He dragged the cult's muscular octopus to the practice area, despite the creature's protests.
"You have no choice, eight legs. A little exercise won't hurt you," Goliath said with a mischievous smile as he handed a wooden sword to the octopus.
"Why me? There are other cultists available," the octopus protested, trying to get away.
"Because you are strong, and I need a challenge, not boring practice," the goat replied, raising his sword.