Touched by the Veil - Untamed Goddess Trilogy - Book 1

THE GREAT DECAY AND THE PRIMAL ORDER

They called it progress.

In the year 3025, humanity stood at the peak of its arrogance. Disease was no longer feared. Death was treated as a design flaw. Science, greed, and genetic ambition twisted together until the line between salvation and sacrilege vanished completely.

The final experiment was called Project Chimera.

It was meant to unlock beast DNA, to cure illness,

strengthen the body, and “improve” humanity. Instead, the engineered virus mutated, escaped containment, and became airborne within days. The world named it the Ruin Plague. It didn’t just kill. It rewrote.

Eighty percent of the population died within the first year. Cities collapsed. Power grids failed. Towers cracked beneath creeping roots and vines as nature reclaimed the planet with brutal efficiency. Machines died. Concrete became soil.

Those who survived did not remain human.

Bones stretched. Teeth sharpened. Instincts ignited. Humanity fused permanently with animal blood, giving rise to beastkind, shifters bound to ancestral animals and driven by primal power that required no machines, no technology, only instinct. The old world crumbled, and something ancient awakened.

In the generations that followed, the first true beast shifters began to dream of two divine beings watching from beyond the Veil.

Thoron, Beast God of Fire, Strength, and the Hunt, a massive lion-wolf hybrid clad in molten armor that shifted like lava, his voice a living thunderstorm. He taught males to honor rage without surrendering to it.

Let your beast breathe, but never let it lead.

And Virena, Beast Goddess of Moon, Bonding, and Blood Harmony, a sleek glowing panther crowned with crystal antlers, her presence soft and terrifying in equal measure. She gifted females the power to soothe, to anchor, and to bind the feral chaos Thoron unleashed.

You were born to bind the beast, not break him.

Together, they formed the Twin Veil, twin creators shaping a new world from the ashes of the old.

For a time, balance held.

Male beastkind manifested dominant power, raw strength, aggression, and territorial instinct. Female beastkind carried harmonizing power, expressed through aura, emotional regulation, and biological stabilization. Neither could survive safely without the other.

This truth became law.

THE PRIMAL ORDER

As beastkind evolved, power demanded structure. Thus arose the Primal Order, a five-tier ranking system governing all shifters. Males and females are measured on the same scale, but their energy manifests differently, dominance versus harmonization.

Male Primal Order

Emberfang

Young or low-power males, barely managing beast control. Allowed to apply for bonds only at public events.

Ashclaw

Stable beast energy with proven restraint. Common guards, traders, and scouts. Eligible for mid-tier bonds.

Rageborn

Combat-proven with high energy output. Required to undergo discipline rituals and supervision during Mooncalls. Often serve as elite hunters and protectors.

Diremark

Dangerous, dominant, and revered. Forbidden from approaching unbonded females without escort. Must wear control bands or undergo monthly calming rites. Can only bond with equivalent females.

Wyrmshard

Apex, mythic tier. Legends whispered about in fear. Instinct bleeds into human form. Some lose speech entirely when triggered, communicating only through growls and command. If left unbonded too long, they go Full Feral. Only Myrren females can anchor them.

Female Primal Order

Glowkin

Gentle soothing energy. Stabilizes Emberfangs and Ashclaws. Used in nurseries, healing tents, and safezones.

Velavine

Medium tier. Stabilizes Rageborns. Encouraged to bond with two to four males, often forming small village harems.

Solstice Bloom

Powerful enough to anchor Diremarks. Typically bond with five to seven males. Known for aura manipulation, dream sharing, and emotional echoes.

Noctira

Capable of calming any tier, including Wyrmshards. Their presence alone causes most males to kneel. Protected by law and ritual. Rare, dangerous, and sacred.

Myrren

Mythic tier. Fated soul-bond females. Rarest in existence. Can fully claim a Wyrmshard with a single look. When aroused, can trigger Mooncalls across entire territories. Many believe the gods walk through them.

Females were once rare but sacred. Over centuries, power corrupted. Some females became entitled, cruel, and manipulative. They hoarded mates, discarded them, and used their soothing aura to control rather than heal. Many refused bonds entirely, driving males into feral madness that left territories soaked in blood.

Virena saw it all. And when her daughters refused to return to grace, she whispered a curse into the moonlight.

Until my daughters return to grace, I will seal the wombs one by one.

Female births dwindled. Some were born sick. Some voiceless. Some unable to bond at all. The Myrren all but vanished. The gods fell silent. Only a handful of worthy females still receive visions or dreams.

THE REVERSE HAREM SYSTEM

Balance demanded correction.

A single male cannot absorb the full harmonizing aura of a powerful female without fracturing. A single female cannot anchor a high-tier male without burning herself out. Nature adapted.

Thus, the Reverse Harem System emerged, not as indulgence, but as survival.

Females may claim multiple males as long as balance is maintained. Each tier has a natural bond limit.

Glowkin: one to two mates

Velavine: two to four

Solstice Bloom: five to seven

Noctira: eight to twelve

Myrren: unlimited queen shit

Each bond forms a living circuit. Weekly aura contact is required or bonds strain and fracture. Sex strengthens bonds, but so does touch, shared sleep, and emotional intimacy. Neglect is dangerous.

Imbalance is fatal.

THE BEASTKIN OF VERDANCE

Verdance is no longer ruled by cities, but by territories claimed by beastkind.

The Ursar, bear shifters of mountains, forests, and frozen northlands, massive and unyielding.

The Felnari, big cat shifters of grasslands, jungles, ruins, and cliffs, sleek, cunning, and pride-bound.

The Vargan, wolf shifters of forests and tundra, pack-driven, scent-bound, and obsessively loyal once bonded.

The Gorrak, primal ape shifters of jungle canopies and stone temples, terrifying in form and brilliant in mind.

Serpents, panthers, lions, tigers, bears, wolves, and dragons long thought extinct, all bound by blood, instinct, and divine law.

The land is not owned. It is guarded. And still, the prophecy endures.

From shadowed womb and fire born blood,

A she beast shall rise who kneels to none,

But loves like the wind, fierce and free.

Through her, the balance will be restored…

Or broken forever.

The gods watch. The beasts wait.

And somewhere in Verdance, the wild prepares its correction. Sahiyra Veyne has never known the softness of silk, the sting of politics, or the sound of her own name spoken with reverence.

Only the wild knows her. And it has never asked for her to be anything but free.

~

Sahiyra Veyne POV

I don’t remember the world before the wild.

I don’t remember my father’s face, or the way his voice sounded. Only that he died before I was born. They say he was a Wyrmshard...one of the most powerful beast born that ever lived. And one of the most dangerous. My mother told me his rage grew too heavy, too fast. She tried to calm him, to love him into peace.

But her power wasn’t enough. He went feral and didn’t come back. He died screaming, miles away from the cave where I was born beneath a red moon, wrapped in my mother’s cloak, crying for a man I never met.

And my mother? She loved me fiercely. Like the wind loves the trees...it never stops, even when it breaks them.

She was a Noctira, powerful in her own right. She taught me things most girls will never know. How to hush the panic in a young male’s chest with only my heartbeat. How to hum low, belly deep songs that made even angry beasts lie down and close their eyes. How to listen, not just with my ears, but with skin, with bone, and with soul.

We didn’t live in a village. We didn’t register. We didn’t bond. We lived on the edge of the great wilds, where only the brave or the broken dared go.

And when I was ten, the wild bit back. It came in the form of a feral, a true beast, not a shifter. No words. No restraint. Just hunger and claws and death. I watched it rip her apart. I screamed so loud my throat bled. I tried to use my gift. I touched it, sobbed, and pleaded. It didn’t stop.

So I ran. No food. No shoes. Just blood and dirt and fear. I don’t know how long I wandered...days, maybe weeks...but when I finally collapsed beneath the twisted root of an old bonebark tree, I remember whispering into the dirt.

“Please… don’t let me die.”

The forest answered. The alpha direwolf came first. Towering and silver eyed. His fangs dripped with old blood as he circled me. I was too weak to move, so I just looked at him and said, “I’m not afraid of you.”

He lay down beside me. Then came the birds. Not small ones. Ravari...feathered hunters the size of wolves. They dropped fish at my feet like tribute. The silverback came next, his roar shaking the moss beneath me. He built me a shelter. No words. Just kindness. Just presence.

And I understood them. Not just emotionally. Literally.

Their voices weren’t made of sound, but they were still loud, and they still wanted to be heard. For the very first time in my life… I felt seen.

I belonged to the beasts now.

Nine years passed like water over stone.

I learned to hunt by scent. To fish by whispering to the river. To climb without sound. To soothe broken creatures with my hands and my voice. I was no longer a child. I was a woman now, grown wild in the dark, shaped by claws and wings and thunder.

Sometimes, when I slept, I’d dream of eyes in the sky. One like molten gold, watching me with fire. The other, silver and soft, humming with moonlight. Thoron and Virena....the Twin Veil, the god and goddess of beastkind. They never spoke to me directly, but I could feel them. Their pride. Their presence. Like parents watching from the stars.

I should’ve felt lonely. But the truth is… I was free. No bond marks. No politics. No spoiled females hoarding mates like toys. No males growling and snapping over who deserved my touch. Just peace. And hunger. And the breath of the forest against my skin.

Tonight, I had three rabbits strung from my belt, a fresh fish in my satchel, and a warm buzz of satisfaction in my belly. I was walking back toward my den near the ravine when I heard them.

Voices. Male voices. Rough. Deep. Laughing. Cursing. Sharp with edge and dominance. I froze, sank down low into a crouch, and closed my eyes to scent the air.

Shifters. The scent hit me hard. It was a mixture of sweat, musk, campfire, iron and adrenaline. So much heat. So much need. My skin prickled. I hadn’t seen a shifter in years. Not since my mother died. And now there were… at least ten? Maybe more? Moving together through the trees like a hunting party.

Curious, I stalked closer. My bare feet made no sound as I weaved between ferns and roots. I climbed the ridge above their fire, crouched low in the thick underbrush, and stared down into their camp.

They were massive, and very pleasant to look at. Some were shirtless, and their well defined muscles gleamed with sweat. They all had weapons strapped to their backs or hips. Others were growling over meat roasting on a spit. One was pacing, clearly irritated. Another leaned against a tree with a haunted look in his eyes, like he hadn’t slept in days. And their energy… gods, it was thick. Ferality bled off them in waves.

Untethered, hungry, and beautiful. They didn’t even know I was watching. But I watched them like the prey watches the predator. And maybe… I wasn’t afraid.

“So this is what beast men have become,” I whispered into the trees, as my lips curled in a soft smile.

“Let’s see if they bite.”