silence passed, then the incredible happened.
Urien twitched, and his body contorted, writhed and then split into two halves. A gray wolf emerged from the writhing mass, shook itself and stood by the screaming, bubbling mass.
The bubbling mass went still, then turned into ash.
She understood then and sent her thoughts to Raphael.
Her mate, glowering with fury and power, charged forward. He was beautiful, this Kallan, his long hair flowing behind him, his muscles working as his long legs pumped furiously. Raphael sprang over the wolf that was now Urien, slashed at Emily’s pack with the glowing white blade.
The Morphs began to scream and fall. One by one, each cut from the sacred dagger made them drop, writhe and split in half.
Their good Draicon selves stood by silently as wolves.
The evil Morphs were left as writhing masses of wet flesh, which bubbled, died and then turned to ash.
Emily raced forward to assist, touching those Raphael could not reach. Soon it was over.
More than two dozen gray wolves stood before them, mute and staring with yellow eyes. Docile as lambs as they huddled in a mass before the Draicon.
Raphael’s brothers shifted back into their human forms and clothed themselves. Gabriel went to Emily’s side and picked up her hands.
He touched them with reverence, moonlight showing the awe on his face.
“It was you. The Chosen One, not the cursed one. Your blood gave me back life, and your touch gave them new life as well.”
Raphael bounded back to her side, sheathing the blade even as its light died and it became golden once more. He swept her off her feet in a hug, crushing her to him.
Setting her down, he smoothed back her hair. You okay? he asked with his eyes.
She nodded, leaning against him, trembling and overcome by what just transpired.
The light from the Scian had faded, but the altar suddenly began to glow with a brilliance. They shielded their eyes, all but Raphael and Emily. As she lay her head against his muscled chest, listening to the steady, comforting beat of his heart, she knew what was coming.
It was about time to meet her, she reasoned.
The white light expanded from a small circle to encompass the entire glen. It became as light as if the sun itself shone in the clearing.
The red-headed goddess, draped in a forest-green gown, shimmered into form. Raphael’s brothers dropped to their knees, bowed their heads, but Raphael remained standing. Strong, proud.
A tender smile graced Aibelle’s rosebud mouth. A mouth Emily had seen in the mirror.
“Mother,” she said, her voice strong.
Aibelle held out her arms, beckoning to her. Still, Emily hesitated, looking at Raphael. He nodded and released her.
“My daughter, my lovely Emily,” Aibelle whispered. “How proud I am of you, child.”
Warmth suffused her as the goddess wrapped her arms around her. She felt something wet drop atop her head. The goddess, creator of their race, was weeping.
Emily looked up, her heart twisting. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why all these years, leaving me to think I was without a mother? Alone, after Papa died?”
Aibelle smoothed back her hair, her green eyes wet.
“I could not interfere in your free will, your right to choose your own path. After I birthed you, and gave you to your father to raise, in the purest pack of all, I told him never to reveal your secret. You needed to be free from all influence that you were immortal and my daughter. Your destiny was your own, to reject or embrace.”
“My father.” Her own eyes were wet now. “Your lover.”
Aibelle told her. She had met Emily’s father while he walked in the forest one day and they became lovers. The goddess’s gaze grew troubled. “I foresaw a great evil ahead for the Draicon, and knew they needed a tremendous power to even the balance and fight the Morphs. Evil and good must always be in balance. Thus, I conceived you.”
Continuing to stroke her hair, Aibelle looked at Raphael. “You were in her destiny as well. Her mate, a male of tremendous strength and prowess. A male whose courage and strong heart would spell the redemption of Morphs and become a new weapon in the battle against evil. A good match for my daughter.”
Raphael looked away, his strong jaw tensing. “I am not what you say. I’m not like Emily, a pureblood whose heritage is superior.”
“You are far better, Kallan,” Aibelle said, her voice gentle yet firm. “It matters not what your heritage is, but the size of your heart and the depth