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Chapter 93: Follow Your Path
Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56
Lola EversonThank you for reading!
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A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 94: An Introduction
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A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 95: The Reading
There is something eerie about caves. The rocks carved out around you by water and wind over thousands of years. The temple is built over this cave system, we descended what felt like miles of stone stairs to arrive at the cave mouth. My body aches from the journey and my activities before. “Remove your robe.” One of the priestesses says to me. These are the first words they have uttered since escorting me to the temple as the Immaculate Mother demanded. I comply, resigned to following along. “These are the sacred springs of Selene. It is said the minerals hold the dreams of Endymion’s endless sleep; the water, the tears of the Goddess for her lover’s endless slumber.” Another priestess explains leading me toward the pool. “This is a ceremonial bath to cleanse you so the Immaculate Mother may see your path.” I suppress the fear rising like bile from my stomach. My mother warned me that the priestesses can detect witches. “We are one. We will push past.” Theia assures me in my mi
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 96: Darkness
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A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 97: Memory of Home
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The priestesses submit. Even the most steadfast of them eventually break. Their necks all bared to me. Theia hums in gratification. The Immaculate Mother is the first to shift back into her womanly form. She makes no effort to shield her body from me. She stands in her naked glory, no shame on her face, head held high. “There has not been a wolf from the Celestial Alpha line in centuries. The texts say the last wolf of the line waits for their match, which will only come when our true leader, the defender of the faith, is found.” The Immaculate Mother tells me. “Are you trying to say that is you? You are our awaited deliverer?” She says, voice full of doubt. “Impossible!” She studies my wolf. She is searching for something, but I do not know what. I tilt my head trying to understand. She grabs her robe and puts it on. She flips furiously through an ancient book placed on the altar. She abruptly stops, seemingly finding what she was so desperately searching for. “Here!” She shou
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 100: Ego
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A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 130: True Form
“May the Goddess anoint you with her love and bless you with your dreams.” “We give our devotion to the Goddess!” My mate and I reply. The priestesses are all around us. Their voices echoing off the walls of the cave, it’s impossible to tell how many are speaking as the voices echo around us. Our naked bodies only inches away from one another as we stand in the pool, his intoxicating scent masked by the abundance of minerals in the spring. “We ask our Goddess to cleanse you of all your impurities. Remove any malice from your hearts.” The priestesses chant around us. My body feels drawn to him. The urge I have to touch him is overwhelming, to just feel his skin pressed against mine. Any doubts I have floating away the second I am near him. I look ahead to the priestesses. I do not dare look at him in all his glory. One glance at him may be what breaks the dam holding back my urges, my last vestige of control. “Tonight, you are to shift into your true nature. The greatest trea
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A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 128: Rigid as the Great Mountain
“Waltz of the Mountains.” The King sneers. “Let’s see how well you keep up.” He casts a glare at Edward. “You know how your Grandmother adores the dance of her homeland, grandson. Do not disappoint her for the sake of your mate.” The warning is clear. “Yes, my King. I would not dream of disappointing.” He bows deeply, his hand on his heart pledging his allegiance. I remember our first meeting. “You play a dangerous game, girl.” He said with his hand around my throat. I suppose I am still that dangerous silly girl, too headstrong to fully submit. Incapable of bending to a tyrant. Incapable of silence. I am who I create. I feel Theia and Asteria in the front of my mind. Any overt display of power would be disastrous, so they lurk, careful not to allow their presence shimmer in my eyes. I deeply curtsy holding my hand to my heart as well, averting my eyes to the floor, not uttering a word. Silence and obedience. That is what the King demands. My stubbornness to blame for not b
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 127: Waltz
Silence. I dare not speak or move. “I have heard you can dance.” The King says in my direction. A small smile creeped on his lips. A sneer. “Yes, your majesty.” I say meekly. “You shall dance for us.” Edward looks at me with sadness in his eyes. A shimmer of anger rippling in his fields of green, at my faux pas. The weight of the King’s displeasure not only hitting me, but crushing him as well. Collateral damage. “I would love to see the waltz.” The Queen hums. “Edward can lead her if she does not know it. Besides, she will be expected to dance at their wedding celebrations.” I hope he indulges his wife. It is a far better option than being forced to gyrate in front of the King. His expression leads me to believe he wishes to not only remind me of my place but humiliate me in the process. The Queen’s suggestion is only her tossing a rope to her grandson to save him from the front row seat to my humiliation. The King looks to his Queen. “Very well.” He replies. “L
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Fairytales have a modicum of truth to them. Just enough truth that the reader can absorb the message, learn whatever moral imperative is being taught. The tricky part is discerning what little bit is rooted in truth, and what is an outright lie, a fantasy embellishment to keep you reading. I prefer the stories with happy endings, lessons are still learned, but the main character in the end is well and fine. Perhaps that’s my first mistake, assuming my placement in the tale is the main character, rather than the abused maid or gullible villager, or otherwise nameless background character. A person in the crowd as the King strolls down the street naked. A lady’s maid to the wicked queen or damsel in distress. A nameless cousin to the main character, who tried on the shoe but it did not fit. Perhaps I am the main character, in one of those tales where she tragically dies. Her choices and bad decisions leading her to death, rather than the happiness she was seeking. The Queen seem
