Chapter Five
867 Words
Yessica stood in the hallway, her heart heavy with a sadness she couldn’t name. It settled deep in her chest like a stone, unmoving and cold. She wished she could be like Marilyn stoic, unreadable, untouchable. But she wasn’t. Her emotions painted themselves across her face like ink on parchment.
Marilyn, ever perceptive, noticed.
“You must understand something, Yessica,” she said softly, her voice like silk over steel. “This cloister… it’s a game of chess.”
“Chess?” Yessica frowned, confused.
“Yes, dear. Chess.” Marilyn turned from the window, her silver eyes reflecting the darkness outside. “The smartest wins. The rest? Pawns. All of us are pieces in a game played by hands we’ll never see.”
Yessica’s confusion deepened, but something in her gut twisted with recognition.
“No one truly belongs here,” Marilyn continued. “Not really. But we can carve out our own place. Forge our own destiny.”
Yessica didn’t fully understand the words, but she understood the feeling. She had joined the cloister to escape a life that had never wanted her. A mother lost too soon. A father who remarried and forgot. A house where she was treated like a burden, a shadow, a mistake.
She had come here seeking purpose. Belonging. Love.
If only she had known.
“You should go,” Marilyn said, her tone final. “As the Abbess commanded.”
“I will,” Yessica whispered.
She turned and left, her steps lighter but her heart heavier. Behind her, Marilyn watched with a smile tugging at her lips.
That girl, she thought, is fire wrapped in silk. Courage masked by innocence. Of all the pairings she had orchestrated, Yessica’s would be the most thrilling. Manuel would need someone to challenge his arrogance. And Yessica… she would need someone to test her strength.
Marilyn turned back to the window. The sky was moonless, the stars veiled. Her powers were weak under such darkness, but she could feel them returning,slowly, steadily,as the souls of the slain werewolves slipped into the ether.
She thought of the child she had held earlier. Her first direct descendant.
Monica.
The name came to her like a whisper from the stars. Monica. A child born of chaos, yet untouched by it. A child who carried something none of her other creations had ever possessed.
Hope.
Marilyn’s heart ached for the wolves who had died that night. But their deaths were not in vain. Soon, the balance would shift. The convent would no longer hold power over their kind.
“All will be well,” she murmured. “Monica is proof of it.”
She knew Orion would be furious. He always was. He never understood why she risked her immortal life for her children. But how could she explain it? Without them, she had no reason to exist.
A sudden voice sliced through the silence.
“She will grow quickly. And then they’ll know.”
Marilyn didn’t flinch. “You want to take her.”
“She’s my pup,” the voice growled. “You saved her this time. But what about next?”
“I was expecting you,” she said calmly.
The hooded figure stepped into the light. “I won’t let you use my daughter as a pawn in your games.”
“Nick,” she hissed. “She is my descendant. My creation. She already belongs to me.”
In a flash, he was on her,his hand around her throat, lifting her off the ground.
“You lost everything,” he snarled. “Your life is worthless. Don’t make me end it.”
Marilyn choked, her voice rasping. “Oh? You disappoint me, Alpha Nick. Perhaps I should take back the life I gave you.”
His grip tightened. “Are you threatening me?”
His hood fell back, revealing cream-colored hair, silver earrings, and a face carved from beauty itself. He was her mirror,her son.
“Never,” she gasped. “I am your goddess. I do what I want.”
He released her. She stumbled, coughing, but quickly regained her composure.
“One day,” she said, “you’ll see. Everything I’ve done… it’s for them. For the future.”
“For my pup?” he spat.
“For yours. And the many others yet to be born.”
“What are you planning?”
Marilyn smiled. “Soon.”
At dawn, the cloister stirred. Yessica stood by the carriage, flanked by Sisters Alyssa and Victoria. Her cloak was drawn tight, her eyes distant.
“Yessica!” a voice called.
She turned to see Marilyn descending the stairs, her robes billowing like storm clouds.
“A word before you leave,” Marilyn said.
Yessica followed her inside.
“I have something for you,” Marilyn said, reaching into her sleeve.
“What is it?”
“A necklace,” she said, placing it in Yessica’s hand. “To hide your scent.”
Yessica stared at the delicate silver chain, its pendant shaped like a crescent moon.
“Why are you helping me?” she asked.
Marilyn smiled, enigmatic as ever. “Because, dear Yessica… even pawns can become queens.”
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