Chapter 77: Sidelines
"What have you done to yourself?"
"Listen, mother, I’ll tell you details later." She tried to stand, but Eirene forced her to stay seated.
"Sit down. You will not interrupt this ceremony."
Rowena pulled against her grip. "Let go."
Eirene tried to pour restraint magic into her daughter; she whispered a spell under her breath, but she felt Rowena resist. It wasn’t a physical resistance. It was something inside her pushing back. It was heavy and dark.
Rowena tried to stand again, but her mother’s spell held her down.
Her expression shifted from smug confidence to irritation. "Release me," Rowena hissed.
Eirene shook her head. Her eyes were wide, filled with something between fear and disbelief. "You have no idea what you’ve done."
Rowena glared at her. "You chose to settle for the sidelines. I won’t."
Eirene swallowed hard. Her throat felt tight. She lowered her voice into a cracked whisper. "That spirit consumes the host. You won’t stay yourself. You won’t control it. You don’t understand what you allowed inside your soul."
Rowena didn’t look shaken. "I understand enough. And I’m ready for it."
Eirene breathed, stuttered. A tear escaped her eyes, not a sobbing tear, but the kind that falls when a person is trying to stay composed while the ground is cracking beneath them. She stared at her daughter as if she were seeing someone else.
"You went behind me. You did this alone. You hid this from me." She whispered
"The coven said I could not rise if I remained under you."
Eirene flinched at that. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. She grasped Rowena’s leg harder, not out of anger but desperation. "I gave you everything. I protected you. I guided you. I kept you safe from the worst of them. Rowena. Why would you bind yourself to that spirit?"
Rowena tried to push against the spell again. The black smoke became stronger. Eirene felt it, and her entire body tensed. She whispered another restraining spell.
"You will do nothing here," Eirene said firmly.
"You can’t stop me forever."
Another tear slipped down Eirene’s face. "I never wanted you to embrace darkness as I did."
The smoke eased, but it didn’t disappear. Eirene knew the Witch Queen spirit was bonded to her daughter, and there was no reversing it. She had become a Vessel—a vessel for the witch Queen spirit.
Eirene swallowed hard. Becoming a vessel meant that darkness had claimed Rowena’s soul. The power it granted was immense, control over thousands of Wanderers, influence over cursed lands, and authority in the coven—but the price was irreversible.
Eirene had spent years avoiding that path, refusing every hint of it. Rowena had walked into it willingly.
Eirene wiped a tear quickly before anyone could notice. She stared at her daughter, who was struggling in the seat, trying desperately to break free and stand.
Everything Eirene had done for her daughter—every manipulation, every scheme—was meant to secure a future for them. Now Rowena had become something else, something darker, something neither of them could undo. She understood that whatever happened next, Rowena would no longer act as her daughter. Her heart had changed, and her allegiance had shifted. She had become something else entirely.
She looked back towards the ceremony, her hand still forcing Rowena in place. "What is the point of stopping Aveloria’s union, if the coven has already decided to abandon me?" Eirene whispered under her breath.
"You should have worked harder, Mother." Rowena kept her eyes on Aveloria.
"I have lost you," Eirene whispered in a quiet and honest tone.
Meanwhile, Aveloria stepped into the circle created by the attendants. Her mates, Marek, Theron, Lucien, and Galen, had joined her. The High Priestess circled them, chanting in a steady voice. The attendants resumed singing Moonsong in unison. Their voices echoed across the hall with no break or hesitation.
Four attendants stepped forward. Each one held a ceremonial band. They placed the bands on the wrists of the four men and tightened them securely.
Then the High Priestess lifted a long rope made of glowing threads. It was called the Moon Twine and was used only for divine bonding ceremonies. She tied the ends around Aveloria’s wrist first, then extended it to each man, knotting it firmly to link all five of them together.
Everyone in the hall watched. No one dared to interrupt.
The High Priestess lifted her staff and began chanting another set of words, different from the earlier ones. The attendants shifted their song to a higher rhythm. Both sets of sounds merged, bouncing off the high walls.
As the chant continued, a sudden gust of air spread across the hall. Some candlelight went out. A few nobles held onto their seats. The sky outside darkened rapidly, though it had been clear earlier. Clouds gathered as though responding to a distant signal.
Aveloria felt a strange pressure building inside her, almost like a pull in her chest. Her breathing changed slightly. Galen shifted his weight, feeling something similar. Marek tensed. Theron lifted his chin, sensing the connection. Lucien’s jaw tightened as a wave of energy spread between them.
Outside, thunder rumbled faintly as if the sky itself reacted to the ritual. The High Priestess raised her staff one final time.
Aveloria’s pulse jumped. Her mates stood steady, each one reacting differently but holding their ground.
The Moon Twines glowed brighter. Another rumble came from the clouds. The High Priestess continued chanting, her voice rising and falling in a controlled rhythm. The attendants’ Moonsong wove through it, balancing the sound. The atmosphere in the hall thickened, almost enough to feel against the skin.
The bond snapped into place. Not physically, but deeply. Aveloria felt it first. It was a clear sensation, spreading through her body like a firm grip on her soul. It wasn’t painful, but it was undeniable, intense, and present. Each of the men felt it too. Their expressions stiffened for a second before easing.
The Moon Twine dimmed gradually until it lost its glow completely. But the bond remained.
Their souls were linked.
The hall remained utterly quiet as the weight of what had just happened settled over everyone. No one moved. No one spoke. The spiritual connection was now sealed.
