The Alpha God’s Luna by Marissa Gilbert
Chapter 72. Stars Burn. Part I
Fenrir blocked another desperate attack from his nemesis, wondering what was taking Astrea so long and regretting he couldn’t go searching for her.
The God of Vengeance was properly exhausted by now, but so was he. It really didn’t help that he didn’t have his full strength with his body kept between life and death in the mortal realm.
The spectacle had run its course, leaving no room for attributing Fenrir’s potential victory to mere chance. Resolute he’d had enough, the wolf prepared to bring this to an end as he had little time left.
“I will avenge my father!” Vidar spat blood to the ground, acutely aware of his people’s intense gazes in his direction. They looked disappointed, and he knew that with each missed blow, he was losing another bit of their respect. This realisation led him to a cascade of mistakes, so the glorious victory he had dreamed of for so long was slowly slipping from his grasp.
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“You had centuries to do that,” Fenrir reminded him, “but suddenly, you can’t wait any longer?”
“Let’s just say I wanted to see you suffer first!” The son of Odin narrowed his eyes, ready for his next move. Channelling his wrath, he waved his hand, conjuring a blazing wall of fire which engulfed the battlefield in a deadly inferno.
The Asgardians around them gasped; some even materialised their shields for protection, but Fenrir spun the spear in his hand, dissipating the flames with ease, to everyone’s astonishment.
“You can’t fight fire with fire! If your father could see what you’ve turned into, he would be so embarrassed right now!” A chuckle left the Alpha God’s chest. “And that’s me saying that. The man who hated Odin more than anyone else. At least I still had some respect for him. You—you are nothing but a disgrace.”
Vidar let out an angry scream, lunging at him with another s***h of his blade.
“Says a mutt who could only dine with us as a pet!”
“And just look how that worked out for you all!”
Fenrir intercepted the desperate attack with a smirk playing on his lips and kicked his adversary’s leg, dislocating his knee and throwing him to the dirt without gracing his insult with a response. It was all in the past. He had moved on a long time ago.
Vidar was a good warrior. Great even, but not a match for him in a fair fight. The God of Vengeance’s main advantage lay in the peak of his divine power that had grown all these years since he lived close to the Source. Fenrir was deprived of that, not to mention that his current state wasn’t his strongest, but he was still ready to fight and win. He had centuries preparing for this exact moment. Devoss, Bash, Warg and Kara had helped him train for that battle, even when they were not sure if it would ever happen. Now, the centuries of dedication finally borne fruit.
Fenrir’s eyes met with Devoss’ just for a split second. The old fox was probably the best of his teachers, thanks to his brash tricks and cheating. He always kept the wolf on his toes, so when Vidar decided it wasn’t beyond him to cheat either, he was prepared.
The ruler of New Asgard had to duck down to escape Fenrir’s spear. Desperate, he dug his fingers into the earth under his feet, whispering a quick spell. The ancient demon language was his last hope. Playing noble was not working out in his favour, and now it looked like he had nothing to lose.
The earth trembled and groaned, fissures spreading like veins across the ground. The solid surface fractured, and the widening cracks moved towards Fenrir as a wave of deadly energy threatened to swallow him whole.
Dark ancient magic.
Demon magic.
He watched it with an arched brow, not a muscle flinching until it almost reached him. When it was near, he hit the ground with his spear, simultaneously throwing a few beads and creating another shattering wave of energy to oppose the destruction coming his way and subduing it before it could bring any damage to him.
Whispers and gasps rippled through the crowds.
“How did you—” Vidar gritted his teeth, knowing this was one of the best tricks up his sleeve. He couldn’t fight the mutt with fire, he did not have any divine weapon to oppose his father’s spear, and he clearly did not have superior fighting skills.
He’d started working with demons precisely for that reason. They were the only ones who could offer him something he didn’t already have — a type of magic that could help kill all his enemies, no matter who they were. All he had to do in return was sacrifice a few people who’d wronged him. It was a mutually beneficial agreement. Even when they wanted to kill Astrea and take the essence from her dragonfly mark, it was still worth it. Or so he thought. Back then, he had no idea it was her last life. However, even if he’d known… he would probably still sacrifice his defiant mate. Power was better than anything anyway, and Hunters were always one step ahead of him. This was more important than having a stubborn woman.
Anger boiled in his chest. He ’d sacrificed so much for this. He was the higher being! A god! An heir of Odin! Brother of Thor and Baldur! He was not going to lose his kingdom to an abomination like Fenrir! And once again, he was ready to do what others couldn’t to achieve his goal. This was why he was always the winner.
Not thinking twice, Vidar threw his hand towards Kara, the spell igniting her wings, causing her to scream in pain. Fenrir snapped his head in his old friend’s direction, and Vidar took the opportunity.
“Die!” he hissed, charging and aiming at his enemy’s throat, but Fenrir was ready for that too, stepping aside and tripping him while knocking the sword out of his hand.
This time, the wolf ensured the spear’s blade was at Vidar’s throat, pinning him to the ground. The God of Vengeance tried moving away, which led to a slight cut on his neck because Fenrir did not budge. The blood unpleasantly trickled down to his chest from the fresh wound, letting him know his next move would be his last.
The spectators were quiet this time, paralysed by the realisation that their ruler had just lost the fight. None of them thought it was possible when the battle began, and now this was the result they faced.
“Kara, are you okay?” Fenrir asked without looking at her. “Yeah,” the Valkyrie responded while Bash helped her to put out the flames on her feathers. The woman hissed, and Fenrir snarled at the one who hurt her out of spite.
“Here!” He did not take his eyes off Vidar, knowing that it would be too risky now that he had won. He took a bead off his bracelet and crushed it between his fingers, throwing the green glowing energy at Kara to accelerate her healing.
“That was a dirty trick!” the Alpha God said, pressing the sharp spear tighter into the flesh of his enemy. “And was that the demon magic right now?”
“All is fair when fighting an abomination!” Vidar tried to look brave, but his voice trembled, giving away his fear.
Amusement curled into Fenrir’s lips.
“It still did not help you, did it?” he chuckled. “Now—yield!” Vidar’s eyes grew wide.
“Wh-what?” He must have been hearing things. “I said yield and accept your defeat before everyone who has witnessed our fight today!” Fenrir demanded.
“I would never.”
The blade drew more blood, and Vidar gulped in panic, still desperately trying to hide his weakness and hoping for a miracle.
“Wh-why don’t you just kill me? After everything I did to you—” Fenrir gave him a withering glance.
“Because when I killed your father, it did not make me feel better,” he admitted. “Yield, hand New Asgard to me and I will banish you to the mortal realm. This is your second chance and my last offer.”
Vidar contemplated, but Fenrir moved the spear up his neck so that he could feel the vibrations of ancient magic. If he did not submit, it would be the end of him. His essence would be back in the Source in seconds.
Vidar, son of Odin, would cease to exist.
“I—yield!” Vidar forced the words out, and disappointed gasps mixed with shock erupted. “New Asgard is—”
The blade slid down his throat, and a shiver went down the God of Vengeance’s spine. He lifted his eyes at Fenrir and furrowed his brows, watching the wolf deity breathing heavily.
Something was wrong with him.
“Finish—the sentence!” Fenrir ordered, his chest heaving.
Now Vidar saw he could barely stand on his feet. Fenrir swore under his breath. He could barely hold it together in this realm. Something was changing rapidly, and he realised his time here was up. Riannon was already trying to bring him back. However, he needed just a few more minutes… “Say the words!” He growled.
“You are not really here, are you?” Vidar sneered at him. “Like your father, the Trickster, you tricked us into believing that you are, but you are somewhere in between. The spear helped you fight, but you are neither dead nor alive — and I guess your body is calling.” Fenrir hated that he was getting weaker. The Queen of the West was making attempt after attempt to save his body back in the mortal realm. A few minutes more, and he would not be able to wield the spear. It was time to leave. He’d won the battle, and everyone present was his witness.
However, Asgardians could not be trusted and Astrea was still not here. He couldn’t leave… Not yet.
Their plan was different. He needed her to be here before he could leave safely.
“You’re out of time!” The revelation widened Vidar’s eyes. “I have enough time to end you!” Fenrir seethed and prepared to do just that, but a wave of electricity ran through him, freezing him for just a second. That mere moment was enough for Vidar to roll away and scramble back to his feet.
“He can’t fight now!” he screamed, pointing at Fenrir, who was now using the spear for support while another wave of electricity rippled through him. “Kill him now, and we are free of him forever! Help me defeat this monster! Together, we can do that! Attack him!”
Devoss, Bash, Warg and Kara exchanged glances and bared their weapons, stepping closer towards Fenrir as the Asgardians began to wield their powers.
Eyes glowed, magic of all shades crackled in the air. The gods and the mere citizens of Asgard were ready to kill the one they always took for the enemy.
“Cousin?” Bash raised his brow at Magnus expectantly, and the latter seemed shocked by the way he was addressed. After all, he was a mere infant during Ragnarok and barely remembered anyone from these times. “You look just like your father,” Bash explained how he recognised him. “How about a helping hand?”
Magnus pressed his lips tight, torn between a desire to follow his heart and what he was taught. His people were still standing in a protective circle, the last obstacle between the Asgardians and Fenrir.
“I am sorry,” the son of Thor muttered, “my warriors won’t fight our own people. That’s different. We gave an oath—”
“Yeah, sure.” Bash rolled his eyes, losing interest quickly. “We know how noble everyone here is. There’s no need to explain.” Magnus clenched his fists, looking down, and then waved his hand, signalling his warriors to break their formation and step aside.
Vidar finally came to his senses and materialised his fire blade into his hand, ready to impale a weakened Fenrir with it from the back. He was already inches away when a wall of blinding light formed right between them, throwing him back.
The radiant light engulfed everything and everyone, overwhelming and all-consuming. No one could see anything, lost and disoriented on the spot. All colours and forms were erased, leaving them all defenceless.
Vidar screamed in agony; the skin on his hands turned into charcoal, and his sword was lost once again.
“Didn’t I tell you,” Astraea smiled as she observed everyone helpless and at her mercy. “Stars can burn. You should have listened.”
They could not see her yet, but her sweet voice rang in their ears.
The light was gone in a flash, and the world slowly filled with colour again. Blinking, Vidar was searching for where her voice came from until he finally saw her at the top of the stairs. Right where he was expecting to see her earlier today, walking to the main hall of Valhalla as his bride.
The Goddess of Stars was back and more beautiful than ever before. Her long white hair cascading down to her knees in soft, perfect waves put forth an ethereal glow that he remembered so well. He’d dreamed of her like this, of wrapping those locks in his fist and making her his, again and again.
Vidar devoured her with his eyes, unable to resist his own mate in this form.
Her gleaming dress was made of thin shimmering starlight infused threads, woven into intricate patterns reminiscent of constellations. She was a vision, and he could stare at her forever if not for the stern glare full of hatred she was offering in return. Her eyes were different now from any of her lives. Full galaxies were swirling and storming inside, a reflection of her cosmic gift.
That brought him out of his stupor.
“You drank from the Source—” he whispered, and the corners of her lips tilted up in amusement.
“I bathed in it,” she admitted without so much as a hint of regret, her grin growing wider. “And I wasn’t there alone.”
Niki gasped, knowing that even her werewolf speed wasn’t enough to dodge the demon whose jagged teeth were already too close to her.
She had been careless!
The impact happened so quickly that she had a hard time processing it. Her head hit the floor, and some of the glass pieces on the ground cut her flesh, eliciting a groan from her. Yet still, she didn’t feel the teeth piercing her neck and draining her blood. The creature was so heavy she could barely move. It was surprisingly soft, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it until the scent of Wintergreen hit her nostrils.
“Darius!” The sound came out muffled when she realised that her dragon bear was the one on top of her. She pushed herself from under him and greedily gulped the air when her head finally got out.
He tried to move off her, but something was preventing him, and very quickly, she knew exactly what that was. Dark wings spread above them when she saw a demon with his mouth covered with blood. Pieces of fur and flesh were hanging off its teeth, making Niki feel nauseous.
The vampire’s eyes focused on her now, and she tried to wriggle herself out, noticing one of her daggers nearby. The Firstborn stretched her hand but still couldn’t reach it.
The deadly creature crawled over the massive bear’s body towards her, clearly wishing to prolong its feast.
Niki grew her claws, since now it was her only weapon.
A wave of fire knocked the demon off Bjorn and sent it out of the window, its screeches piercing her ears.
Niki desperately looked around and saw Joran turning away from her to look at Riannon who was still trying to save Fenrir.
“Darius!” Niki whispered. “Please, send me a signal you are still alive.”
He was so heavy and she was absolutely stuck underneath him, but all her thoughts were just prayers to have him alive and well again.
He’d saved her.
Even without his vision, he’d sensed she was in danger and sacrificed himself. No one had ever done anything like this for her. “Darius, please!” She felt tears rolling down her cheeks. From the corner of her eye, she saw a few more vampires flying their way. They were the last ones.
Niki peered at Joran, but he was busy. Gideon growled, standing before her, ready to take the blow. She knew his presence would not be enough if he was alone.
The creatures charged at him, and he took the first one, pinning it to the ground and breaking its neck. Two more were fast approaching and Niki tried to free herself again.
Sparks of magic flew before her eyes and dispatched the threats. For a second, she believed it was Joran, but he was still in the same place.
“Are those the last of them?” Salome walked forward with Forrest following her. The witch held her hands ready for new spells.
“I think so, but keep an eye on the windows,” Forrest replied and his eyes locked with Niki’s. “This one is alive.”
He walked towards her fast and pushed the bear off her, giving her a hand.
“Are you all right, love?” he asked, but Niki only shook her head, crawling towards Darius.
A sob escaped her when she finally saw his state. Forrest nodded understandingly and stepped away. He still had all this mess to deal with.
“Speak to me!” Niki demanded from the bear when he saw him opening and closing his eyes. He was still alive. “Darius, please!” She hugged him and sobbed into his blood-stained white fur. “Remember, we have so many plans!” she begged him. “We were going to go away to travel the world! And then we were going to choose the best place to spend our lives together. Darius, I can’t do this without you. I need you!”
Two arms wrapped around her and she gasped seeing her bear in his human form again. She hoped that it would make a difference, but blood was gushing out of Bjorn’s neck and she tried to apply pressure, knowing far too well that wounds like this didn’t heal. Shifters were always going for each other’s necks in battle for a reason.
“Strawberry—” His voice came out all broken and gurgling. “Darius!” Niki cupped his face and gently touched his lips with hers. “Hold on, please. For me! I need you!”
He was silent just for a second, his grip on her weakening with each passing second.
“Straw—berry— I love you so much!” he breathed the words out. “But you don’t need me.”
“No!” she protested, her tears now spilling onto his face and breaking his heart.
“I’ve lived longer than I was supposed to,” he forced the words out, his breathing laboured. “It was my destiny to die a long time ago. Gods— play with us as if we are toys. Deep inside— they don’t care.”
She could hear his struggling heartbeat.
“Niki,” his fingers dug deeper into her flesh, “Whatever you do, don’t trust them. Keep away from them. Live your life. Be happy. Do — all the things we wanted to do.”
“Darius, I only want to do them with you!” A loud sob escaped her when he could no longer hold her. She was suffocating here, drowning in her own tears. “No, Darius, no! We can fix this.”
“You are the only thing I don’t regret,” Bjorn whispered, and his lips froze after he released his last breath.
“Joran!” Niki forgot about all the familiarities, calling for her Teacher. He was a god! He loved Darius. He had to save him again. Only, when she turned to look for him, Jormungandr was missing.