CHAPTER 421: THE GODS THEMSELVES

ZINA’s POV

Time seemed to slow down around her. Stretched taunt like a band.

On her part was determination. But on Rowan’s part was fear that started as a small crack when he realized that everything was not in his control as he initially thought.

Now, that crack widened and swelled into a large hole. And together, they were both falling inside hell.

Zina didn’t make it of course.

Before the staff made it midway to plunging through her chest, he was snatching it away from her with lightning speed, testament to his incredible skills.

Then he harshly tugged off the blindfold from her, then gripped her by the neck in a death grip.

As if he could kill her. The thought made her laugh

"Look at me!" He snarled in her face, "look carefully at me and tell me if you think there’s a remote chance you will escape your fate today!"

Zina pried her eyes open, and then she looked at him.

And her surroundings.

They were not the same. Pulled away from the shield of her blindfold, the world before her seemed far different from anything she had envisioned.

Red furs decorated Rowan’s skin like blood bursting from his vein. A hideous, hateful, expression twisted his features as he looked like he was debating between marrying her for life, or maybe just killing her.

And the walls of the room they were in showed cracks. It might have survived the earthquake, but the signs of trauma still lingered there. Evidence of what it had gone through despite still standing tall amidst the rubbles that now surrounded it.

Even then, she could still hear the sound of earth cracking, foundations giving away, and stone crumbling to the earth.

"So it is true." Zina managed to gasp out while he choked her. She managed to wear a dark smile just for him, just because she wasn’t going down without her dignity intact.

She was Zina after all.

The Theta of the NorthSteed Pack.

His grip tightened while his teeth elongated. "What if it is true?" he gritted out, "just as we chained your mother for decades, you too will live in chains. Humiliated. Defeated. Unable to mourn the man you love. You will hang in chains watching the world you envisioned turn to ruins! Your visions, useless! And your gods, abandoning you!"

Zina grinned and his confidence cracked just a bit at the seams and at the sight of her disarming smile. "That is where you have it wrong, Red Wolf. I have no gods. I am the gods themselves."

He stilled for a moment, as if anticipating what was going to happen next because he could clearly see it in the gleam in her eyes that she still had one move against him.

Even at that, something like fear swirled in his eyes. Not profound, but enough to tell her that he wasn’t foolish enough to ignore her words.

She smirked at him. "Tell your Master to crawl out from where he is hiding. Eavesdropping is a habit that should be beneath the half-man that wishes to be the One Wolf that rules all."

On cue, a chuckle reached them. And Master revealed himself, crawling out from behind the oak tree.

"Did your wolf’s senses sharpen?" He drawled in an airy voice that betrayed the loss of his teeth which in turn impaired his voice.

"Not really. The gods have a message for you."

The meaning behind her words did not escape him. "So you think of yourself as a goddess?" He cackled, "I am not exactly surprised. Spiritual power tends to breed foolish people. Even the previous Luna of the NorthSteed Pack, your mother in law, believed that the child she would bear would unite the North. A shaman’s prophecy she said. Which was why I went for her head when she was heavily pregnant just to make a point. Unexpectedly, the life in her had more resolve than most."

Zina shook from rage, clenching her fists as he glared at the man who was now within their line of sight.

She managed to calm her lips that trembled while she levelled him with a meaningful glare. Tears filled her eyes, but not a drop rolled down. "The shaman was right. Daemon NorthSteed will unite the North. And the whole of Vraga will behold his greatness and fall at his feet because he is the Great Beast Wolf."

"Look into my eyes and tell me what you see?!" Master growled, "there can only be one such wolf for Daemon NorthSteed will die today by your blood and hands! It doesn’t matter that you resisted the Nirvana torture. You might be in control of your mind, but the Deformed? Your blood controls and fuels them. For eternity!"

At his last words, about eleven deformed appeared including the one they dared refer to as her father.

He stood at the centre while five flanked him on each side.

Tall, abnormal werewolves.

Grey skin with patches.

Yellow and red eyes with drool dropping between their jaws.

The one in the middle howled, then looked at her with an expression of fondness that threatened to have her puke her empty stomach out.

She returned the look with a glare filled with one filled with animosity. And Rowan chuckled at that, slightly releasing his grip on her neck.

"That is no way to treat daddy, Thralgor."

She released her clenched fists, and then she schooled her expression carefully. "Daemon NorthSteed will not die, not when I have not said a word in favour of it."

Discreetly, her hand reached for a sharp branch of the oak tree that she had broken off when she entered the room.

It was a branch with a sharp end. Sharp enough to plunge through her heart, and stop it.

If Rowan and his Master thought that merely collecting the staff from her would stop her, then they were quite off track because she had long prepared for an alternative.

The staff was made from the oak tree with sorcery. The branch might not have the same magic in it, but it was the source after all. And her findings when she consulted Norima Talga about the staff confirmed her theory.

She had barely reached for the staff when a foreign impact hit the walls around them. The cracks widened, and the walls collapsed on the ground like rubbles.

Rowan pulled her behind him while she struggled to see through the dust created by the rubbles what had caused the impact.

And that was when she saw it.

Or rather, him.

A teat finally rolled down her face for all her confidence and plotting, it seemed her accursed vision was speeding up faster than it should be.

"Daemon?" She muttered, for there was only one person who possessed such a gigantic black Arctic Wolf who prowled with grace and something lethal all at once.

And he was Daemon NorthSteed.