chapter five
870 Words
Damien POV
As I moved away from the battlefield, Lucien and my men followed behind me.
Suddenly, something strange happened. My vision blurred, and every muscle in my body screamed in protest. I sank to my knees, the sword slipping from my fingers. The battlefield—the screams, the blood, the chaos—all faded into the background.
“Alpha Damien!” Lucien’s voice rang out, sharp and panicked. His face, usually so cold, was twisted with bitter fear.
My body heard him…but it couldn’t respond. It was as if everything inside me had stopped functioning.
“The wolfbane… it’s moving to his heart!” shouted one of my soldiers.
I knew I wouldn’t last long. My life flashed before my eyes.
I had taken countless lives and had become friends with death itself.
Who would have thought my time would come too?
My breath quickened as the wolfbane spread through me. Sweat coated my body. My legs went numb, then my hands, until it reached my chest—my heart.
Then… everything went black.
“Death can be cruel sometimes.”
The voice came from a distance. Not Lucien. Not any of my men.
It was soft, calm…melodious. A woman’s voice.
I knew I hadn’t imagined it.
My eyes snapped open.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. My chest rose and fell as I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling above me. My heart pounded violently.
This isn’t where I died, I thought.
Bright light streamed into my vision. The walls were decorated with gold patterns, far more luxurious than anything I had ever seen.
A voice spoke again. The same one from before.
I turned.
A woman stood before me.
Her presence alone made it clear—she was not like a wolf. Not like me. She was…higher. Far higher.
So I truly was dead.
Nana had once told me about the journey of the afterlife, though I never believed her.
How could I be dead and still on a journey at the same time?
The only explanation: this was the domain of the Moon Goddess.
“Oh… I see,” I said slowly, studying her. “You must be the Moon Goddess?”
I waited, expecting surprise. But she only chuckled softly.
“Smart,” she said. “Now that you know who I am… what made you seek my help?”
Her question left me confused. I hadn’t called her name. Not consciously, at least.
“I didn’t… I don’t remember calling your name,” I muttered. All I could think of was survival.
“Your desperation to live,” she said, her round eyes sparkling. “Even the strong fear death sometimes.” She chuckled.
“What will you have in exchange?” I asked, already anticipating tricks. People like this always wanted something. I had no patience for chit-chat.
She straightened, her playful gaze turning serious—almost intimidating.
“I will give you a chance to live,” she said, her tone soft but deliberate.
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow.
“You will live,” she continued, “but only as long as you do what I command.”
“You get to live as much as you want, but…” She paused, looking at me fiercely.
“You will grow weak… every night,” she said, a faint note of joy in her voice.
Even a pup could bring you down if you’re not careful,” she added, laughing softly at the thought.
Sweat ran down my back. Me? Weak? The son of Alpha Raymond? The thought was unbearable.
She knew I hated weakness, and her delight in my reaction was obvious.
“But,” she said, moving away from her golden chair, adorned with thousands of pearls, “if you meet your fated mate…”
She paused, letting the words sink in.
“You would return to your normal self.”
Not even a moment to breathe before she added:
“Your wolf… won’t recognize her though.”
How is that even possible? I hissed to myself. How could I recognize my mate if my wolf couldn’t? Our ancestry had no record of sorcery.
“There will be signs, Damien,” she said, her silver eyes gleaming.
“The strong should know how to love the weak. That’s how the world shows rule.”
Her lips curled into a cold, bitter smile.
“You must stay valiant,” she continued. “The treasure is hard to find.”
She returned to her golden chair, crossed her legs, and rested her hands on the armrest. With a snap of her fingers, a fan appeared, fanning her gently.
“But what if I mate the wrong person?” I asked, furrowing my brows.
“Don’t,” she screamed sharply. “The end is bad.” She snapped her fingers toward me again.
“Bye, friend,” she said lightly.
I watched as the floor beneath me split into two. Her voice echoed in the distance, constantly reminding me: don’t.
I closed my eyes. The world spun, but somehow, I stayed in place.
When it finally stopped, I opened my eyes—and I was in my room.
At last. I was alive.
- Writer
