The group implodes with laughter. Feeling my own cheeks flush, I don’t dare look in Axe’s direction.
Maurleen grins cheekily, twisting a curl around her index finger. “Personally, I prefer the term ‘knocking boots,’ but, seeing that you’re a mechanic, I couldn’t resist.”
The burly Sentinel howls in response, his canines glistening under the light. “Axe would laugh, but he’s clenching his asshole too tight.”
Even Jabir can’t catch his breath. His mate rolls her eyes, groaning, “You’re all pigs. Filthy, moronic pigs.”
Qinnu coughs into his arm. “Prude.”
Wyatt blinks uncomfortably. I look over just in time to see the Alpha’s lips curl ever so slightly upwards. Axe waits for the laughter to settle before clearing his throat.
Nell’s stormy eyes narrow. “My mother met one of the Servants once. She and the previous Luna were startled by her desperate attempts to get them to flee. Before a host of vampires captured her outside of Volken’s capital, she apparently spoke of a divine secret the oracles were sworn to protect. One that only the Servants would have such intimate knowledge of. Whatever it was, it apparently got her killed.”
Maurleen swallows. It is a story she knows all too well. “There is a curse.”
Axe's good arm clenches. He doesn't like where this is going.
"As you all know, when humans with second sight reach maturity, their scent evolves. After the night Vessa was attacked back in the Heartlands, Wyatt and I realized that her scent wasn’t just amplified; rather, something else was attracting demons. Something hypnotic, like the energy of the full moon at its maximum influence. We had to retreat from pack life for a while. There were so many attacks that, even with my visions, I couldn't anticipate them. We tried to give Vessa what normalcies we could. But no matter how wide the ocean, sharks are everywhere, waitin’ for a single drop of blood to hit the water. These creatures are just the same. They’ve been hunting for the Sponsa Noctis longer than you and I can fathom.”
“The Bride of Midnight?” Jabir clarifies. “Please, that legend has to be three thousand years old.”
Maurleen nods. “It is. According to stories I heard from the first Servant who found me, that is how long the Blood Master has been waiting for her.”
Jabir peers over at me as he recites the myth. In league with the other gods, the moon goddess stole the Master’s bride away, convincing the maiden to poison herself with nightshade before the heir to Somnium could claim her human life and immortalize her. The plan was ingenious, considering that Clethra, his mother, had linked her own life to his betrothed so that her power might also flow freely through her. Consequently, both women died. Consumed with wrath, the Blood Master butchered and enslaved her wolf progeny, vowing one day to reclaim his bride and use her blood to retake his throne and unleash the ultimate undead army from the depths of hell.
"Of course, that was before he realized how fast we could multiply," Nell adds.
Maurleen's account of history is right on par with this—the Blood Master struggled for nearly a century to bring lycans to heel but never could. The first pack to originate out of ancient Poncipia, capital of the Eastern continents, staged a successful coup and nearly killed him in the process. But while he was apparently torn to ribbons, a demigod just needs a few pints of blood to regenerate.
Axe doesn’t follow. “The Sponsa Noctis lived and died when our Goddess still walked the earth. Are you suggesting that the Blood Master intends to use Vessa to resurrect her?”
My nerves are about to swallow me whole. "Not quite," I say.
Maurleen steadies herself. “Vessa is the Bride born again, the result of a debt owed to him by the gods of Sempiternus.”
Qinnu bolts out of his chair. “Thefuckdid she just say?”
Jabir moves to defuse him, gripping his shoulder firmly.
Maurleen carries on. “Upon her death, the Luna goddess swore to make amends, forging a curse. The soul of his mortal bride would one day be made new, only to be known by those who possess the sight of the oracle. For three millennia, she held up her end of the bargain, but with a clever loophole. Aprotector. The Sponsa Noctis would have a lycan mate, a fact known only to myself and a handful of witches in her service.”
A laden silence overtakes the room. Qinnu’s chest falls rapidly. His eyes are fiery arrows aimed right at me.
For a moment, Axe says nothing. Everyone in the room waits for his direction.
When my hand brushes against his elbow, Axe’s face morphs into a dark glare. “You believe with absolute certainty that my mate is this Sponsa Noctis?”
“I do. But please, you must understand that?—”
Wyatt jumps to her aid. “We kept her away from my pack for as long as we could. But eventually, I had to bring her in. It was the only way to protect her until Maurleen knew for certain where to locate her mate.You, Commander. You can keep her secret safe here, where you have far more resources.”
Qinnu’s temper ignites. “Resources? You mean more families? More lives for the Blood Master to come and collect? Do you realize this bomb you’re dropping is going to start a war?”
Maurleen grimaces.
Wyatt glowers a shade darker. An asp, readying to strike. “Mind your tone, pup.”
Peeling off the sling, Axe pushes out of his chair, the legs screeching unbearably against the granite. “Whatever you’re about to say, Qinnu, push it down.”
