Underworld 91_Goddess Of The Underworld

Chapter 91 

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 20 

 The ground is scorched. Cracked. Runes burn beneath our feet, shifting betweennguages I don’t recognize, divine, dead, and forbidden. The sky above us is fractured, a swirling mess of colors and shadows, glowing with the light of all three realms ovepping. Spirits hover in the distance, caught mid–passage. Screams ripple from invisible directions. The scent of rot and blooming flowers battles in the air. In the center of it all stands a tform of obsidian, etched with markings I know only because they live in my blood. Blood magic. Ancient. Unfinished. Atop it, Felix kneels, sweat glistening on his brow as he arranges symbols carved from old bones and stone. My grandmother, cloaked in ck and silver, stands beside him, her arms lifted, channeling a thread of power that flickers with death and life. She looks at me the second we arrive, eyes sharp as broken ss. 

 “You’ve done it,” she says. “The bond is sealed. The Veil is gone.” 

 I nod. “Now hold that anchor.”

 She turns to Felix, who nods grimly and gestures to the runes Haiden and Levi uncovered: broken fragments of ritual stones, etched with the names of the sacrificed children and the original bloodlines Marcus exploited.

 “It’ll hold long enough if we pour enough power through it.” Felix says.

 “You mean us,” Noah says, stepping forward.

 “Exactly,” Grandmother answers. “You six are the only ones strong enough to tether the realms now. You’ve been marked by both Underworld and Divinity. You are the bnce.”

 Xavier moves forward, studying the carved circle. “What do we do?”

 Felix rises, “Step into the ring. One at each point. Six anchors for three realms. Madra will channel through you while the ritual activates.”

 “And Marcus?” Haiden growls. “What if he finds us before we’re done?” 

 “He will find you,” Grandmother says grimly. “He will already know it’s begun.”

 Layah touches Xavier’s back with her head. “Let hime. We’ll be ready.”

 One by one, we take our positions, circling the ancient anchor carved into the earth. The second we step into ce, a tremor rattles beneath us. The symbols re. The sky cracks open further, and the magic begins to scream. My grandmother lifts her hands. The runes rise into the air, spinning faster and faster until they burn with white fire. The anchor is taking shape, but it’s not a peaceful thing; it fights back. I feel it wing at my soul, trying to unravel me. My magic burns as it’s pulled through me, pouring into the anchor trying to hold these worlds apart. The bond between all six of us res bright, threads of energyshing out andtching onto the ritual like vines of molten gold.

 Layah gasps. “It’s trying to tear through us… 

 “No,” I grit out. “We’re stronger than this.”

 37

 We focus. Together. Each of us is pouring magic, blood, pain, and love into the core. And slowly, so slowly, it starts to hold. The storm is no longer aimless. It has a tether now. The anchor glows brighter, humming like a living thing, and far in the distance, through the broken sky. I feel himing. Marcus.

 He emerged from the darkness like scum in the world, his old wolf form rippling with age–warped muscle and death–soaked magic. Behind him, an army of lost souls shuddered into view, stretching across the broken horizon like a gue, I knew what he’d promised them: life, vengeance, power. Lies, all of it. Things he could never give. Things he had no right to touch. I clutched the spell core tighter, feeling the tether thrumming through me, wild, unsteady, still forming. It wasn’t finished. Not yet. But it was holding. Barely, Marcus shifted as he approached, his human form just as monstrous. Pale. Twisted. Smirking. His eyes locked onto mine as he stepped closer.

 “Envy!” he bellowed, arms outstretched like he was weing me home. “You weren’t supposed to rebuild the world. You were meant to let it fall

 He took another step, his voice rising like a preacher on a pulpit.

 “Let it burn, and rise from the ashes with me! We could rule this new world, you and I. Just stop this now. Stop the tether. Walk away and I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

 My hands tightened around the spell’s heart, my magic snarling against his intrusion. My voice came out low. Final.

 1:07 PM

 “You’ll rule nothing, Marcus.” 

 I rose to my full height, feeling Layah’s light pulsing beside me, a silent force that grounded the entire circle.

 “And once I rebuild the Veil,” I said, “you’ll rot in the hell you tried to create.”

 His smirk faltered, but only for a breath. Then his expression turned cold. He raised one hand, fingers twitching in a flick of cruelmand. The dead surged forward. They moved like a tidal wave of smoke and shrieking hunger, teeth and bone and ghostly steel. My heart seized, and then I acted. I looked to my mates, my anchors. They understood without a word. Levi was first to move. Always first to protect. He tore from the circle with a snarl, shifting mid–stride as Flint exploded from within him. Fire curled around his hulking hellhound form as he tore through the first line of wraiths, jaws snapping bone from shadow, fury unleashed. The tether trembled in his absence, like a fraying rope pulling against a copsing wall, but I held it.

 “Haiden,” I whispered.

 He met my eyes. And without hesitation, without fear, he leapt forward into the chaos, Talen erupting from his body in a sh of smoldering blue fire. He crashed into the hoard with brutal grace, his eyes burning as he scattered the souls like ash. They had nowhere to go. No master to return to. When my mates killed them, they didn’t drift to another ce, because right now, there was no other ce to go. They ceased to exist. Obliterated. Gone. The tether groaned. My bones ached. Every nerve screamed. Still, I held. I didn’t let go. I couldn’t. Not while they were fighting for me. For us. I staggered, knees dipping, until Layah’s head caught my elbow. Her magic surged into the circle, binding it with hers, steadying the pull. She didn’t speak. She just stood beside me, radiant and fierce, fur glowing like they could burn away the night itself. We were the bnce. The eye of the storm. I turned, breath ragged, to myst two mates.

 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, NovGo, and Readink is unauthorized and constitutes copyright infringement

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Underworld 91