CHAPTER 159: COMPLETE BOND

Her leg was slung over Cassius’s hip, and his fingers rested at the small of her back, not possessive—protective. His breathing was even, but she could feel the tension in his arm. Even asleep, he held her like someone who had lost her once and would never let go again.

Lucas’s arm was draped across her waist, his hand resting on her belly, fingers curled inward like a habit he hadn’t meant to form, but did. His chest rose and fell in perfect rhythm with hers. His breath warmed the back of her neck, soft and slow.

For a moment, she didn’t move.

She simply breathed them in. Let herself feel what she’d never allowed herself to believe she could have.

Safety.

Belonging.

Not in the divine halls or on the battlefield or in the whispers of prophecy. But here, on earth, in flesh, beneath the eyes of the Moon who had watched and chosen.

The bond was complete.

Not between her and one. But all three.

A trinity.

Lucas shifted first, murmuring something incoherent before his nose nudged the curve of her shoulder. Then he stilled, awareness slipping over him in a wave. She felt it the moment he remembered—where they were, who he held, what they’d done.

His fingers flexed on her stomach. Then tightened.

"You’re awake," he whispered, his voice rough from sleep, as his lips found her neck.

"So are you," she replied without opening her eyes.

A low chuckle rumbled against her skin. "Did last night happen? Or was that a fever dream?"

Cassius made a sound that was half groan, half growl. "If it was a dream, don’t wake me."

Athena opened her eyes and met Cassius’s golden gaze. He looked different in the sunlight. Softer. Less carved from battle. More home than weapon. His hair was a mess, one cheek smudged with dirt, but his eyes were awake, drinking her in like she might vanish again.

"You’re staring," she murmured.

"Can’t help it," he said, thumb tracing along her waist. "You’re glowing."

"I’m not glowing."

"You are," Lucas said from behind, pressing a kiss just below her ear. "It’s faint, but it’s there. Moonfire in your skin."

Athena smiled. "Must be from being claimed by two wolves in one night."

Lucas hummed. "Or from claiming us."

Cassius leaned in and kissed her mouth—slow, thorough, tasting like morning and ash and quiet promises. Lucas nipped at her shoulder in protest, then stole a kiss from the back of her neck.

"I’m never going to get used to this," Cassius muttered, eyes half-lidded.

"What? Sharing?" Lucas asked, licking a stripe of skin.

"No. Feeling peace."

Athena stilled.

The words hit deeper than either of them expected.

Because it was true.

The war was not over. The palace was still full of politics and secrets. The realms trembled beneath her name. But for now, for this one stretch of morning sunlight, there was nothing chasing them. No prophecies. No shadows. Just three hearts, three bodies, one bond.

They lay in silence for a long time, letting the moment stretch between them like silk.

Eventually, Athena rose, pulling the cloak around her. Her legs were sore, her muscles aching in that soft, humming way. She walked barefoot toward the stream nearby, trailing her fingers through the high grass. When she reached the water’s edge, she crouched, splashed cool liquid over her face, and stared at her reflection.

Her hair was loose, a tangled halo around her face. Her lips were swollen. Her neck bore both of their marks—sacred, raw, pulsing. But her eyes... her eyes were changed. No longer only divine.

They were woman. Wolf. Moon.

Cassius came up behind her, crouching silently. He didn’t touch her right away. Just watched her reflection beside his own.

"You don’t look like a goddess," he said finally. "You look like ours."

She met his eyes in the water. "That scares you?"

"No." He looked at her then, real and quiet. "That grounds me."

Lucas arrived moments later, wet from the waist up, droplets clinging to his chest and hair. He tossed a handful of water at Cassius without warning, grinning like a devil. "You’re brooding again."

Cassius growled low in his throat but didn’t move.

Athena laughed softly, standing to meet them both.

Lucas pulled her into his arms, pressing their foreheads together. "Do we have to go back yet?"

"Eventually."

"But not now?"

"No," she whispered.

Cassius moved behind her and wrapped his arms around both of them, enclosing them in heat and strength and scent. She stood between them, cloaked in fire and frost and everything in between.

Then Lucas pulled back slightly, looked at her mouth, and kissed her again. Not demanding. Just full. Full of every word he couldn’t say. Every war he’d fought alone. Every quiet hope he’d buried for too long.

Cassius pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then lower, his lips warm and reverent.

She let them worship her.

Not as a goddess.

But as their mate.

Their center.

Their beginning.

And when they finally dressed, slipping into soft linen and leaving the glade behind, Athena turned for one last glance at the clearing.

The grass was still pressed from their bodies. The moon’s mark lingered in the dirt. And in the air, the scent of completion.

She reached for both their hands.

They didn’t hesitate.

And as they walked back into the world that would soon demand their strength, Athena knew one truth more solid than any prophecy:

They were hers.

And she was not afraid anymore.

The throne hall was carved of ancient stone, the kind that whispered of bloodshed and loyalty and the history of wolves who had once ruled with teeth rather than words. Morning light streamed in through the high windows, casting silver shafts onto the floor, but the room itself felt colder than ever—charged with the quiet violence of politics and prophecy.

Athena stood at the center of the room, poised in a black-and-silver tunic that shimmered faintly with the divine thread of her heritage. Her posture was perfect. Regal. Unbending. On either side of her stood Cassius and Lucas—one fire, the other storm—both cloaked in dark leathers, their eyes sharp, their power barely leashed.

The Elders sat in a crescent above them. Eleven in total. All of them ancient, some nearly as old as the First Moon Wars. Most were male. All were skeptical. Their expressions ranged from tight disdain to wary curiosity as they took in the trio before them.

"You have returned to us not with clarity," Elder Morthan said, his voice grating and cold, "but with chaos. A goddess with two alphas. A triple bond. Blasphemy or mistake?"

Athena did not flinch. "It is neither. The Moon chose."

Elder Lysara, youngest among them and sharp as a fang, narrowed her eyes. "The Moon has never marked three in a sacred bond."

"Then the Moon has never needed to," Athena replied. Her voice did not rise. But it didn’t need to. It cut through the chamber like tempered steel. "Times change. Threats evolve. And so does her will."

"She marked both?" Morthan demanded, turning toward Lucas and Cassius. "You expect us to believe that?"

Lucas didn’t bother to hide the gleam in his eye. "Believe whatever helps you sleep at night. It doesn’t change the scent on us. Or the mark on her skin."

Cassius crossed his arms over his chest, golden eyes flickering with contained violence. "We didn’t seek it. We bled for it. The bond wasn’t formed—it was forged."

"Convenient," Lysara murmured. "For three wolves to align at the perfect moment. The gods may be whispering, but politics scream louder. You have power now that threatens the balance of the Great Clans."

Athena stepped forward. "I am not here to play at politics. I am here because I was chosen. The Moon burned her will into my body. I carry her light, her shadow, her flame."

"She also marked two alphas," Tamren, the eldest, said slowly, his voice gravel and stone. "Who answers to who? Who rules?"

"No one rules me," Athena said, voice low. "And I rule no one. We move as one."

"That is dangerous," Morthan snapped.

"No," she said. "It’s new. And you fear it because you do not understand it."

A heavy silence fell.