CHAPTER 438: HOW IT MUST HAVE AMUSED YOU

FIONNA’S POV

Leaving the Red Sisters and becoming one of Daemon’s men meant that Fionna had to put up with so much mental work than she actually bargained for. And on top of that was handling her Alpha’s cranky attitude that seemed to have multiplied by hundreds ever since the war ended.

Put it quite simply, Daemon NorthSteed was a royal piece of ass, and if she were still the Fionna she once was when she was still with the Red Sisters, she would have challenged him to duel just to vent her anger.

Even if it meant she would lose. He at the very least deserved to taste the venom of her claws even if in reality, his power had grown to the point he was untouchable.

But now, being the Delta of the NorthSteed Pack, soon to become the United Northern Pack if Daemon had his way with the unification plan that he had baked, Fionna had to become more mindful.

She had to take consideration of rules and acting as brash as she usually did was no longer an option. At all times, she was meant to act as befitting a woman of her status. After all, the Alpha King’s Delta could not be seen acting any less than a rogue.

Not like she minded. Sooner or better when the whole heat dies down, she wouldn’t mind so much. For now, instead of worrying about the next man to put six feet in the ground, she was touring the North alongside Marcy DireWolf’s insufferable ass, while they brought down the names of packs and replaced them with the title, the United Northern Pack.

For the smaller packs, it was quite easy. Not with the incentive that Daemon was offering. Their Alphas willingly stepped down under the promise that they would be made Zeta Lords to oversee their packs as supervisors. Hence, they handed over their Alpha powers to Daemon.

But for the Five High Ranking Packs, practically now four for the BloodMoon’s were almost done for, were the real devils and they put up one hell of a resistance.

With the BloodMoon Pack of the former Luna Queen, Bella BloodMoon, practically swallowed under Daemon’s regime, they feared for what would become of their legacy so a simple promise to make them Zeta Lords was hardly enough.

Not when too many of them loved the power they held in their hands. From the highest Alpha, to the religious Thetas.

But Daemon’s determination was to contend with the love they had for their powers. And what a great contender it was.

With Zina residing in the Temple to mourn her mother, the mad had been working him dead to the bones. When his enemies slept, he was wide awake, plotting their demise. And when they woke, he was setting the stage for their downfall.

She dared say she was yet to meet anyone that was nearly as hardworking as he was. With a ferocious intensity, he poured over documents day and night, coming up with more than one creative way to make the High Ranking Packs bend to him. And currently, testament to how widespread his fame as the Great Beast Wolf spread, the Matriarchy Pack had journeyed all the way to the Ice Palace to ask for forgiveness of their crimes—

—their crime of siding with villains that not only brought ruin to Vraga as a whole, but also attempted to take the life of the one chanted as the Great Seer and the Moon Goddess reincarnated herself.

Daemon refused to see them, so the all-women pack remained standing in the fierce snowstorm of that day, led by their tough matriarch who refused to budge an inch that day.

The spectacle was somewhat depressing, so Fionna found herself leaving the castle to the one place she could breathe properly—the Temple where Zina was at.

"Where are you going?" A deep, guttural voice carried on to her. Even without turning, she knew it was Marcus DireWolf, the man who had become her personal nemesis these past few days while they worked stoically together.

"By now, I believe the one place I visit outside these walls has become public knowledge to you," she said without stopping in her strides.

"The Temple?" His voice came as a question that quite annoyed her.

"Surely there’s no need to flaunt before me the fact that you’re in charge of intelligence, Beta DireWolf." She said brashly, "Besides, am I to report my movements to you as well?"

It was one thing to report to one temperamental man as it was. Add another to the mix, and she might just run mad already.

"You’ve been using such a venomous tone on me," he had the guts to say, "shall I inquire on how I have offended you?"

She scoffed, then whirled to him. She had decided not to visit his crimes while she was busy taking care of the Red Sisters after Zina’s kidnap, but she had no interest in swallowing her anger.

Before she could spit the venom bubbling within her, he produced a pendant. Her raw onyx-stone pendant which he claimed he had done away with.

"You made it seem like it meant a lot to you so I had it restored." He said with that impassive face of his that she had an overwhelming urge to smack.

Even now, he still dared to toy with her by not admitting that he was Kaliga the Merchant. The same man who dropped the onyx stone with her more than ten years ago.

She didn’t take the pendant from him, instead crossed her arm against her chest. "Aren’t you tired of pretending already? Or did you seriously believe that I will never find out it was you?!"

He didn’t even think long of her words. "I thought you must have realised it since," he deadpanned instead to her shock, "but simply refused to confront me."

She narrowed her eyes at him, balling her fingers into tight fists. "How fun it must have been to watch me pine for a shadow I never knew of when it was you." She gritted, "it must have amused you that ten years later, I still hadn’t gotten over that cursed encounter. Or the item that you dropped."

For the first time, it seemed he struggled for words to say which was new. He might not be the biggest talker, but Marcus DireWolf was never lacking in words.

She scoffed, and then turned her back at him without waiting for what he wanted to say. He might as well burn in hell with that stupid pendant. Even if the words he said all those years ago became her healing balm and motivation when she hit it rough.

It’s either you’re strong, or you’re gone.

Minutes later, she found herself before the temple, and it was like drawing in a lungful of fresh air.

The place was full and brimming with a long queue of people that came from far and wide, all just to have an audience with Zina.

As per usual, most of them would never get to have their chance to see her until months later. The best they could get now was a visiting tag, asking them to come on a later date. But Fionna easily entered through the back door.

She waited until it was Zina’s break time so as not to interrupt her session. But before she knew it, Zina was done, and her maidservant Seraph, was ushering her in.

That day marked it exactly one month after the war, yet the block of grief in Zina’s eyes hadn’t waned one bit.

It was heartbreaking. But not as much as knowing the girl who survived their hellish childhood with her was still alive.

Regardless, Zina beamed at her as she always did regardless of the weight she carried. "At this rate, I would begin to suspect you have a hidden motive for visiting me so much. Not that I am complaining."

Fionna smiled.