Isaiah’s POV
The battlefield was eerily silent. The only sound was the ragged breathing of the survivors, their bodies battered, their minds barely able to comprehend what had just happened.
My knees hit the scorched ground, dust rising around him. My hands trembled as i clutched Stormi’s torn shirt, my grip so tight my knuckles turned white. The scent of blood and ash lingered in the air mixing with the fading traces of her essence. My mate’s
essence.
But she was gone.
My chest ached in a way I had never felt before. It wasn’t just paint was emptiness, a hollow, gaping wound that I knew would never heal. Stormi had been my anchor, my fire, my mate, and in the blink of an eye, she had vanished, leaving nothing behind but the whisper of her sacrifice.
A powerful blast of light had erupted from her body, so bright it had turned the night into day, so strong it had thrown us all back, scattering warriors like leaves in a storm.
Then, she was gone.
All that remained in her place was the woman standing before them now–a being of divine presence, radiant and unearthly.
She was tall–too tall, her slender form reaching nearly twelve feet. Her white–lavender hair cascaded down her back in shimmering waves, almost weightless as it floated in the air. Her skin had a soft, ethereal glow, not quite solid, yet more real than anything Isaiah had ever seen. A crescent moon symbol gleamed in the middle of her forehead, the mark of the Moon Goddess herself.
No.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. I have lost her once but this time it felt like it was for good.
Stormi was supposed to win. She was supposed to come back.
We were supposed to be together.
My wolf clawed at the inside of his chest, howling in agony. The bond was gone, shattered into nothingness. I couldn’t feel her anymore, not even a whisper of her presence.
“Rowena,” i choked out, my voice hoarse. I turned to the witch beside me, my hands still clutching Stormi’s torn shirt. My heart pounded against my ribs. “Tell me what just happened. Tell me this isn’t-”
Rowena didn’t meet my eyes. Her own were filled with tears, glistening trails running down her pale face. She wasn’t even trying to stop them.
“She actually did it,” Rowena whispered, her voice barely audible. “She gave up her soul.”
I felt the world tilt beneath me.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Sheased the spirits of the Silver Wolves to channel the Moon Goddess,” Rowena continued, her voice shaking. “Stormi knew it was the only way. She knew none of us could stop the Shadow Weaver. But the Goddess…” She swallowed hard. “The Goddess can.”
“No.”
Chapter 223
The denial ripped from my throat like a snarl, raw and broken.
This couldn’t be real.
Stormi wasn’t supposed to die.
Not like this. Not when we still had so much left.
My breathing quickened. My vision blurred. My hands shook.
“She’s gone, Isaiah,” Rowena said gently, placing a hand on my arm. Her soul… is part of the Goddess now.”
I jerked away from her touch.
My mate was gone.
Stormi was gone.
A sharp, bone–deep ache spread through my chest, crushing me from the inside. My wolf was whimpering, curling in on itself.
My Stormi, my wild, stubborn, fierce mate, who had fought tooth and nail for everyone she loved–she had sacrificed herself for all of us.
For the world.
A strangled noise tore from my throat. My breath hitched, my vision narrowing as i looked at the towering figure before him.
The Moon Goddess. I wanted to beg her to give me my mate back.
Isaiah’s fingers curled into fists, his body trembling with rage and grief.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight.
I wanted to tear apart the universe until iy found a way to bring her back.
But there was nothing I could do. I felt helpless.
The Moon Goddess gazed at us, her expression unreadable, her soft blue eyes carrying the weight of eternities past. She floated just inches from the ground, her four arms folded in perfect stillness. A spear of silver and stardust gleamed in her grasp, humming with a power that sent shivers through the air.
A divine force–one that even the strongest of us could never match.
I swallowed the bitter scream rising in his throat.
And then, the world shifted.
The air grew heavy, the atmosphere thickening with something dark corrupt.
The very ground beneath them shuddered, cracks forming where nothing had touched it.
And then-
A voice.
Chapter 223
A voice dripping with malice.
A voice that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
A voice that sent a wave of cold fury through my veins.
“Never thought I’d see you again, Mother.”
My head snapped up.
And there–standing just beyond the ruins of the battlefield—was her.
She stood tall, her midnight–black robes shifting like living shadows, her face obscured by a mask made from the skull of a Silver Wolf. Her dark tendrils of magic coiled around her, pulsing with unholy energy.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Omega Mated To The Four