Chapter 2: The Goddess’ Judgement
The ritual chamber beneath the Council Hall was sacred ground—carved from obsidian and moonstone, its walls etched with the runes of every Alpha who had ever passed into legend. No torch was needed here; the chamber glowed with an ethereal silver light, as if the breath of the Goddess lived in the stone itself.
Jessica stood at the center, barefoot upon the ancient sigil of Lunae. Her silver dress pooled around her feet, sleeves fluttering like wings. She held still, composed, yet inside, her blood thrummed with quiet fury and divine anticipation.
Sarah and Prince Apollo stood opposite her, clasping hands as instructed. Sarah’s face was pale, her lips tight. She hadn’t spoken a word to Jessica—not during the summons, not during the walk, not even now. But her eyes, red-rimmed and fearful, betrayed all.
Jessica did not offer her comfort. She owed her none.
The High Seer entered, her ceremonial robe adorned in starlight thread. She bowed first to the altar, then to Jessica. “Are you ready to proceed, Daughter of Valir?”
Jessica nodded once.
The Seer turned to Sarah and Apollo. “Your souls will be weighed. If your bond is true, the Goddess shall reveal it in flame. If not, the fire will falter.”
Apollo shifted slightly, unease rippling through his princely mask. Perhaps he already knew. Perhaps, like Sarah, he had known all along.
The Seer began to chant in the ancient tongue. Her voice echoed like distant thunder, and as she spoke, the obsidian floor shimmered with light. A ring of fire circled the trio, dancing higher with every syllable.
Jessica stood calm within it.
Then—suddenly—it stopped.
The fire froze in place.
A silence deeper than death fell.
And the flames turned white.
Jessica’s breath caught. The room seemed to bend inward, light pouring from the stones, the air, her very skin.
Then came the voice.
“She remembers.”
The voice was not the Seer’s. It was older. Vaster.
It was Hers.
Jessica turns her tearful eyes to the sky, “My Goddess! Mother of Dragons”
Everyone in the chamber dropped to their knees—Apollo, Sarah, even the Seer herself.
Only Jessica remained standing, her eyes wide with tears of faith, her body glowing faintly with silver light.
“She remembers,” the voice repeated, and the flame twisted into a pillar before them, pulsing like a heart. “My Songstress… you have returned. You, whom they defiled. You, whom I marked in another life. My Luna. My Alphaborn flame.”
Jessica gasped softly as memories she had not known she held burst open within her—her soul’s past life as Luna of the Celestial Brood, daughter of the Divine Flame, betrayed and slaughtered by those who should have protected her. The faces of Sarah. Cain. Even Apollo… all wearing different masks in that ancient life, but bearing the same souls.
“You were broken,” the Goddess said, sorrow woven into her divine tone. “But not lost. I could not undo the mortal crimes. But I could save your soul… hide your true strength… and place you where the blood of dragons still remembers its own.”
Jessica stumbled back a step, overwhelmed. Thorne’s voice called out from the chamber edge, “Jessica—”
But the fire turned to him.
“And you,” the Goddess said. “You who tore her killers limb from limb in that life. You who mourned her. Carried her soul-light through fire and storm. You have been patient, Alpha of the Chimaera.”
Thorne fell to his knees, head bowed.
“You were denied your daughter once. You shall not be denied again.”
Jessica’s heart pounded. The fire around her pulsed like breath. Her hands trembled—not with fear, but awe.
“She will have a mate worthy of her,” the Goddess declared, voice ringing through the bones of the world. “Her true Alpha…Her Soul Father, Thorne of Clan Chimaera… will ensure it.”
Gasps echoed.
Sarah sobbed aloud.
The flames turned again to the pair still holding hands, trembling.
“You,” the Goddess said, voice now filled with thunder. “You watched. You knew. You chose ambition over truth. Your soul was once noble, Apollo. Now it reeks of rot.”
The prince fell forward, his forehead hitting the stone. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “I—I was weak.”
“And you,” the flame turned to Sarah, “who called her sister… You betrayed her not once, but twice. You drugged her. You delivered her to monsters. You smiled as her spirit shattered. Had you been but brave and honorable she would have invoked me and saved you both!”
Sarah screamed, her body writhing under unseen pressure. “In the old life, you wore a crown you stole from her corpse. In this one, you nearly wore her title again.” The flames surged, bright and searing, until everyone in the room had to avert their eyes.
Except Jessica. She stood tall, straight, and unflinching, fire dancing in her eyes now too.
“But the soul of the True Luna cannot be caged,” the Goddess said gently. “Not forever.”
Then, a rush of warmth, and Jessica’s mark appeared.
A glowing silver symbol bloomed over her heart—dragon wings curved around a crescent moon. It shimmered like starlight.
The mark of a Draconic Luna.
She touched it, breath hitching.
Thorne was weeping now, quietly, head bowed to the ground.
The flames faded, the light receded, and the chamber felt unbearably mortal in its wake.
No one spoke.
Until Jessica did. Her voice was soft, but the power of the Goddess still laced it.
“Let it be known,” she said, “that I will not claim vengeance. I do not need to.” She turned to Sarah and Apollo. “The Goddess has spoken. I will never say your names again. That is my mercy.”
Then, she walked to Thorne. He rose to meet her, his eyes damp but reverent.
“Father,” she said, smiling faintly. “May I come home?”
He laughed—a sound broken and joyful. “You never left.”
He took her hand, then turned to the chamber.
“Let it be known to all Clans,” he declared, “that the rightful Alpha Luna of Clan Chimaera has awakened. That she carries the fire of the Goddess and the blood of dragons. That any who challenge her now… do so at their own peril.”
Jessica stood beside him, glowing with divine grace.
And in that moment, every soul present knew: the world had just shifted.
And its center… was her.
