A Gift from the Goddess novel Chapter 152

‘Beware the Silver Saintess, her hair as silken thread. With her consort mate of power, the people wept and bled.’

‘And beware the Siren’s call, his eyes as gold as ore. With whispers of manipulation, they’ll hold you in their thrall.’

‘And if you breathe despite this, a devil still awaits.’

‘Because forever lives another….’

‘…The deathless angel mate.’

The words of Allison’s recited passage repeated through my head, echoing like a bad dream. An impossible dream.

How could she be…?

But there was no mistaking it. With the confirmation of who she was, I realised why she looked so familiar. I’d seen a painting of her inside Ashwood’s Moon Goddess temple. They’d depicted her with sapphire-like eyes and shadowy wings.

So… did that mean she really was…?

“…I… I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’m following…,” I stuttered out, struggling to wrap my head around the new information. “Did you say… great-great-grandmother? …How are you alive?”

Myra just laughed though and moved a hand to cup her cheek. But despite this abashed outward demeanour, I thought I caught something in her eye. A look of… sadness. As if she’d seen many things in her lifetime.

“I’ve been asking myself that question for a long time…,” she said. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I’m happy to explain everything I can. First things first though….” She then tugged on my hand gently, indicating for me to follow. “Come inside and have some tea. You look tired.”

And, stunned, I followed mutely behind her, unable to do anything else.

This was a so-called Devil of the Mist? The way Allison had spoken, I’d assumed my entire family were bloodthirsty savages, the worst of the worst.

However, Myra seemed so sweet, so… normal. Well, except for the fact she was claiming to be over a hundred years old. That bit felt a bit… surreal.

She walked us through the front door and into a living room, a cosy vibe about it. I’d assumed this place was maybe an apartment complex but it seemed more open and… homey.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she said before walking into the next room.

I could hear as she began brewing tea, just as she said she would, and I was left to stare at my surroundings. I looked around at the old furniture, but it was a set of portraits on the wall that drew my attention the most.

“My parents,” she answered a few minutes later, returning with two cups. “The last generation to live here. After my children were born, things got a little… busy. The family business wasn’t as important in the grand scheme of running a pack.”

“And what business is that?” I asked, taking the tea from her.

“This used to be an orphanage,” she explained. “Though… I imagine we ran it a little differently than the human one you lived at briefly.”

“So that really was you then? All those years ago?” I asked. “You were the one who tried to adopt me?”

Her expression became forlorn and she looked away.

“…I did everything I could…,” she said quietly, her voice sounding distant. “When they refused to listen to me, I began trying to get my hands on some forged human documents. However… when you’re being hunted by even your own kind, it’s not easy to find friends willing to help you. When I inevitably gave up on official methods, I decided to try and steal you away instead… only I was too late. Someone had adopted you and miraculously it was as if all trace of you had vanished.”

My father. So, he really had been responsible for covering it up at the orphanage too. I’d had a feeling the censored-out folder was his doing. The large ‘donation’ made sense now.

“Where did you go, Rheyna…?” she asked, looking back to meet my eyes. “I searched everywhere I could.”

My mind flashed with the answer, recalling the upbringing I’d experienced, and immediately felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t an easy topic.

“…I was adopted by a human,” I said vaguely.

“And were you happy? Did they treat you well?”

Not really….

But it was clear that she felt guilty for not being able to find me. She was looking at me as if she needed me to tell her that I’d had a great life, that I’d been completely fine despite losing my real family. That I hadn’t suffered at all.

And so I just smiled, hoping I looked believable enough.

“Oh… it was okay,” I answered. “Pretty average. Nothing you need to worry about. Just your typical—.”

*CLAPP*

I flinched backwards as Myra abruptly clapped loudly in front of my face, taking me by surprise.

“Why did yo—.”

“No influencing,” she said crossly, scolding me as if I were a child. “Not under my roof.” But then her features quickly softened, a small sigh leaving her. “Please don’t feel like you need to lie for my sake, Rheyna. You don’t need to sway me with reassurance. I’m tougher than I look.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, still stunned in place. “I wasn’t doing anything….”

“I raised generations of Knight children. It’s very obvious what you were doing.”

And she gave me a stern look.

…Had I actually been doing something? I had planned to lie about my upbringing, sure, but I hadn’t intended to try and ‘influence’ her. Not intentionally. Did this mean I was doing it without realising?

“You seem quite skilled at it, I’ll give you that,” she then pointed out, her head tilting a little. “Had I not been on guard, you might have actually fooled me. That would have made you the first since….”

Her face then turned sad once more, a pain showing in her eyes. Perhaps someone she lost?

…Though if she had lived for as long as she’d said, I imagined that list was quite long.

After a minute went by, she quietly sighed to herself and shook her head, breaking her own chain of thought. When she did finally look back towards me, I knew she was trying her best to lighten the conversation. “With those eyes, I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d manifest with it. Though, truthfully, I don’t know if that makes me happy or sad.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, curiously.

This was something I’d been wanting to know for a long time. About my ability and what made us ‘devils’. Hell, even an explanation for how I was able to talk to her at all right now would have been appreciated.

“Our lineages are a bit muddled currently,” she started. “But whenever a child is born, the universe sort of… flips a coin. A fifty per cent chance that the eldest will manifest with one ability or the other. The second eldest child will then inherit the remaining one. That is if they even show signs at all. Merely having the potential inside isn’t always enough to harness it. Some of the children never show any aptitude at all.”

“So that means I could have ended up like you?” I asked. “Would I also not…?”