Magic coils around my fingertips, black gold and pulsing like a second heartbeat. The air before me hums as 1 reach out, the weave of reality trembling beneath my touch. Behind me, the others wait in taut silence. Layah sits at my heels, tail flicking lazily, but her eyes gleam with something ancient and
electric.
“Focus on Malachi,” she says softly. “You know his signature now. Let it guide you.”
1 nod. I do know it, storm–forged, sharp, steady. The anchor I need. I reach for that thread and let my power crack open the portal.
The portal shimmers into existence with a low whine, edges flickering like lightning caught in ink.
“You sure about this?” Xavier asks.
“No,” I say, “But I’m going anyway.” And with that, I step through…straight into a very large, very opulent bathroom. Steam curls in the air. There’s music playing faintly from a speaker tucked into the corner. And in the center of it all stands Malachi. Dripping wet. Wearing only a towel. We all freeze. He freezes. There’s a tense beat as water drips from his hair onto the marble floor.
“I swear Levi said ten more minutes,” he mutters, looking skyward like he’s questioning every life decision that brought him to this moment.
Noah coughs beside me, clearly trying not to laugh. Haiden doesn’t even bother; his shoulders shake, his hand clamped over his mouth.
Layah, naturally, looks regál and unbothered as ever. “Nice tiles,” she comments.
“I am going to throw Levi back into a portal next time he visits,” Malachi growls, grabbing a second towel and wrapping it around his shoulders as he storms toward the door. “Come on. Since you’re here, you may as well meet her. Just try not to traumatize anyone else on the way out.”
1
We follow him out, me, four mates, my hellhound, all trailing calmly from a steaming bathroom like this is the most natural thing in the world. Waiting just outside the bathroom are Arztec and Julius.
Arztec gives us a single raised eyebrow. “Really?”
Julius smirks. “Was this a dramatic entrance or just a bad sense of direction?”
“She opened the portal,” Malachi snaps, gesturing to me.
“She’s still new to this,” I mutter.
“Clearly,” Arztec deadpans.
1 roll my eyes as we fall into step with them.
The castle is an ancient, elemental place carved into the mountain itself. Veins of amber glow faintly in the walls, pulsing with steady, grounded magic. Everything smells of stone, fire, and old power. Massive windows frame jagged mountain peaks outside, and thick rugs bear the sigils of long–forgotten houses, Magic hangs in the air like mist, ancient and humming. We walk in near silence, the tension mounting with each step. At the end of the hall, two obsidian doors wait, flanked by twin wolf statues, one carved of silver, the other of iron. Malachi stops in front of them.
“She’s inside,” he says quietly. “Elira…mum”
My throat tightens.
“She knows you’re coming,” Julius adds, unusually/gentle.
Layah brushes against my leg. “Ready?”
“No,” I whisper. “But I’m going anyway.”
I step forward. The doors swing open without a sound. Warm golden light spills out, washing over me like sunlight after a storm. The room beyond is nothing like I expected, not regal or cold or carved from stone like the rest of the castle. It’s a sanctuary. Vines creep up the walls, blooming with flowers that glow faintly, petals shifting from silver to violet. A wide fireplace burns low in the corner, firelight dancing over shelves filled with ancient scrolls,
Chapter 78
weathered tomes, and jars of dried herbs. The scent is rich and heady, lavender, smoke, wild honey, and something older… and in the center of it all sits a woman. She rises as I step in. She is taller than I imagined, wrapped in soft midnight robes that shimmer like oil on water. Her hair is black with streaks of gold. Her eyes, when they meet mine, steal the breath from my chest, mirror reflections of my own, but older, stormier, worn by time and loss.
“Mum,” I breathe.
A long silence stretches between us. Then she steps forward, slowly, like I’m a creature that might bolt. Like she’s afraid I’ll vanish.
“You look just like I imagined,” she says, voice soft, cracking at the edges. “But you feel like so much more.”
I don’t know what to say. I didn’t expect the grief in her eyes. The raw ache in every line of her face.
“I thought maybe you’d died. That you didn’t want me.” I whisper more to myself.
Her breath catches, and she closes the space between us. She stops inches away, trembling.
“I wanted you,” she says, voice trembling now, too. “I wanted you every day. But the witches took you before I could hold you. I screamed your name before I even knew what it was. I begged the gods, the old ones, the monsters, anyone, just to see you again.”
She reaches up, slowly, carefully. “May I?”
My nod is barely a breath, but it’s enough. Her hand touches my cheek, and I swear the–bond between us weeps. Her thumb brushes beneath my eye. She stares like she’s trying to memorize the face she never got to raise.
“I didn’t know who I was for a long time,” I murmur. “They cloaked me. Hid me from myself. I grew up thinking I was broken. Wrong. Dangerous. Alone.”
“You were powerful,” she says. “And they feared that. They wanted to use that.”
“They did use me,” I say. “He made me a spell. They’re going to try to tear down the world and rebuild it for themselves, using me.”
She nods, tears slipping down her cheeks now. “I know… I should have burned it all down to find you. I didn’t. I was a coward,”
“No,” I say. “You were hurting. That’s not cowardice.”
She smiles, shaky, small, but real. “You are so much more than I dreamed. You’re ethereal.”
Layah huffs from her place at the door. “She gets that from me.”
I laugh, just a little, broken at the edges and Mum does too. “I see you got a rare gift.” She looks over Layah, already making the connection between us.
I don’t know who moves first. Maybe we both do. But suddenly we’re there, in each other’s arms, and I’m not a goddess or a weapon or a spell…I’m a daughter and she’s not a queen or a legend or a memory, she’s a mother…my mother. For a long, long moment, we just hold each other. She presses her lips to my temple. “I love you. I never stopped.”
“I know,” I whisper.
And in the soft warmth of that room, with the fire glowing and my mates outside and Layah standing with me, the ache of all those lost years begins to knit itself into something new, not whole but healing.
This work, Goddess of the Underworld
by Sheridan Hartin, is an exclusive intellectual property legally contracted with NovelSnack. Any reproduction, distribution, or upload outside NovelFlow, AnyStories, NovelaGo, and Readink is unauthorized and constitutes copyright infringement
