Mated to A Golden Goddess

Five

Matthew

We found them together—my parents, the King and Queen, and Lirella’s parents, who for decades had served as my uncle’s Beta and his mate. All of them stood in a tight cluster near the fireplace, speaking in low, urgent tones. The air felt like a storm about to break.

I stepped forward, my question cutting through the tension.

“Mom, Dad—what is going on right now?”

Lirella’s mother looked at her husband with something that could have been guilt or dread. “Honey,” she said at last, “I think it’s time we told them the truth.”

“You’re right,” he answered, his fingers finding her waist as if to steady them both. He turned to the King and Queen with a measured bow. “Prince Matthew, Your Majesties—Lirella, we owe you an explanation.”

The Queen’s violet eyes glittered with concern. “Let’s go somewhere private,” she suggested. “Away from prying ears.”

“I could not agree more,” the King replied. “Come to your home—there is something we need to see.” The way Lirella’s mother’s face went pale told me this wasn’t a casual revelation; whatever waited would change our lives forever.

⸻

Lirella

Our walk to my house felt like walking into a room that had already been set for judgment. My parents were the Beta pair to Matthew’s uncle—loyal, powerful, but always a little outside the glittering world of the palace. Our house was respectable—two stories of sturdy timber and well-kempt gardens—humble next to the palace but warm.

We didn’t bother with small talk. The tension between my parents, the royals, and Matthew made every step feel heavier.

“Follow me,” my father said, voice steady as he led us inside.

He took us through the kitchen, past the rows of family portraits, and down a narrow staircase into the basement. I blinked at him. “You knew about this?” I asked, surprised.

“Of course,” he said. “This is part of our duty.”

We reached the far wall. My father placed his hand against it. A soft thrum passed through the palm, and a faint Runic pattern shimmered. The stone swung aside like a secret eyelid. Beyond it lay a vault—steel doors, motion sensors, rows of glass cases—the kind of security reserved for crowns and relics. In the center, on an illuminated podium beneath a glass dome, lay a book bound in cracked leather and gilt filigree, script on its cover I could not read.

A magnetic draw pulled at me. I could feel it in my bones—familiar as a dream I could not place.

⸻

Matthew

We stood like trespassers in a treasury. Jewels blinked under glass, artifacts from eras I’d only read about in dusty court records. But all of it faded when Lirella’s gaze found the book. She stepped forward as if walking toward an old friend.

“Lirella,” her mother said, voice thin with apology. “You never told me how much it called to you.”

Lirella’s father—Beta to my uncle—moved to the security panel and killed the sensors. He walked to the podium, placed his hands on the glass, and the dome lifted free with a soft sigh. He cradled the book like something alive and walked toward us, sorrow and resolve making the creases at his eyes deeper.

“This has been in our family for a thousand years,” he said. “It is the Prophecy, written in Old Draconic. Only a few of us can read it. It was given to our line by the Moon Goddess herself. We have hidden in plain sight to protect the bloodline. I never thought—” He swallowed. “I never imagined it would be you, Lirella.”

Her disbelief broke into something sharper than anger. “What prophecy? Why me? Why have you hidden this? And why was my mate glowing when he shifted?” Her voice cracked on the last word; fear spattered through it.

“Answers,” her father said gently. “All of them. But first—” He opened the book and pressed it into her hands. “It calls to you. Take it. Let it show you.”

⸻

Lirella

I didn’t want to touch it, and I couldn’t stop myself. The leather was cool under my fingers. The moment I closed my hands around the spine, the room changed.

Light spilled from the book, pages flipping as though in a storm. Power rushed through me so sudden and strong I thought I would fracture. The world narrowed—then fell away.

I woke in dark emptiness and called out, but no one answered. Then a light swelled and Desiree stepped from it—my wolf, moon-bright and warm, pressing her snout into my palm. Relief unfurled like silk. I hugged her like a child finding a lost toy.

“Where—what is this?” I asked.

“You are inside the Prophecy,” Desiree said, her thoughts like a whisper that smelled of pine and frost. “This place is Aurelios. Stay calm.”

The darkness dissolved into a panorama: a silver lake, mountains stitched along the horizon, forests that leaned toward us like old friends. Desiree walked across the water with sure-footed grace. Then two figures appeared—one a unicorn with a pale horn that glowed ice-blue, the other a dragon of red scales with a scar over his left eye. At the sight of them something in me bowed, not from fear but from recognition.

The unicorn spoke first, voice like wind over chimes. “Please do not bow to us,” she said. “We bow to you, Moon Goddess.”

I laughed, disbelief strangling me. “Moon Goddess? I’m no Moon Goddess. I’m Lirella Banks, Beta’s daughter—”

The dragon’s voice rolled like distant thunder but soft as a hearth’s warmth. “Child, you do not yet know. You have the Moon Goddess within you. We waited for her return. Long ago Selene told us she would be betrayed, that she would return in another form when we needed her most.” His name was Droccolo; the unicorn was Celestina.

“But gods don’t die,” I said. “How could she be killed? Who betrayed her? And why me?”

Celestina’s eyes were patient. “She was betrayed by one she trusted. A god turned traitor. The tale is old and bitter. Selene’s spirit guarded the world through others’ hands after her fall. We disguised the truth as legend—safer that way. Only a few of us knew the full story.”

Droccolo’s scarred jaw worked. “We did not wipe the memory entirely; we preserved it. The Prophecy was our way of keeping hope—of guiding the next Moon-born. You are the Golden Wolf, the Goddess returned.”

My thoughts spiraled. “If this is true, why don’t I feel more powerful? Why does Matthew—my mate—glow when he shifts?”

Celestina answered gently: “Because you are a reincarnation. Powers will grow; many must be earned. As for him, he is your Guardian. Selene decreed that her protector would be forged from one who loved her unconditionally. He is chosen.”

Droccolo’s eyes softened with something like regret. “Not all gifts are instant. You will learn. You will have a choice when the war ends: remain in this realm with those you love, or ascend to Aurelios. Selene wanted the Moon Goddess reborn among mortals so she might choose.”

My head spun with possibilities. “You say a war—who is the enemy? Who betrayed Selene?”

The dragon’s scales caught the light. “Kodian. He was once her advisor and messenger. He discovered a poison capable of killing a god and used it on Selene as a test. He was cast down—demoted to mortal—but his cruelty didn’t end. He has used witchcraft and dark pacts to extend his life and build followers: witches, demons, vampires. For a thousand years he has gathered an army. Now he stirs; now he moves.”

Celestina’s voice went thin and urgent. “We have intelligence until the fifth full moon. He will be ready then. You must learn quickly. Above all—trust your instincts and your heart. Trust Matthew.”

The scene dissolved like mist. I woke back in the vault, the book closed in my lap, Desiree curled at my feet. I was in Matthew’s arms—safe, solid, smelling of smoke and leather and him. The room hummed with questions. My parents’ faces were taut with hope and fear.

⸻

Matthew

She came back like a tide—confused, trembling, the kind of vulnerability that made me want to fold the world around her. When she opened her eyes, the last of the light from the Prophecy leached away, leaving only the ordinary amber of the basement lamps. But something in her had shifted: a steadier line to her shoulders, a frightened courage in her mouth.

“You saw them,” I said softly.

She nodded, fingers brushing my cheek in a motion as old as comfort. “They said I’m the Moon Goddess reincarnate. Selene. They called me the Golden Wolf.”

My chest tightened. A thousand scenarios skittered through my head—glory and danger braided together like the twin threads of a fate I hadn’t asked for. “And Kodian?” I asked.

Her father—my uncle’s Beta—spoke from the doorway, voice low. “The book said his name. Kodian is not a myth. He poisoned Selene. He’s been gathering power for centuries. We have until the fifth full moon before he strikes in force.”

Fifth full moon. The dates hung between us, a countdown that made my skin go cold. I thought of the pack—of training yards and sharpened blades, of witches in shadow and dragons in dream—and felt the weight of promise curl around my ribs.

“We’ll train,” I said before I could measure the sound. “At dawn. We start at dawn.”

Her hand slipped into mine and she squeezed. Trust passed between us in that small gesture—an ember of something fierce and binding. Behind us, the book breathed softly on its podium, waiting.

⸻

Lirella

The vault’s silence wrapped around us like a mantle when the royals and our parents left, giving us a moment that smelled like old paper and destiny.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked my parents, not accusing now but needing the truth.

“We protected you,” my mother said simply. “We hid the Prophecy and the truth because if it were known—if Kodian’s followers suspected—no child would be safe. We hoped Selene’s return would come quietly, and that the world might be spared. We were wrong.” Her voice broke on the last word.

I closed my eyes and thought of Desiree—of running across the lake, of dragonfire and a unicorn’s bowed head. I thought of Matthew and the heat of his hands and the glow that had flared in us both.

“We have until the fifth full moon,” my father repeated. “We’ll teach you what we can. The Palace will offer tutors. The King will call counsel. But know this: you will not be alone.”

I let the sentence fill me until it steadied my breath. Alone had been the scariest word in my life until Matthew’s presence cut it in two.

“Together,” I said.

He answered me without looking—voice sure and quiet. “Together.”