Chapter 31- 14 Hours

The sun was setting like a promise.

Warm gold spilled through the high stained glass windows of the great hall, bathing the walls in firelight and softening the scent of blood and battle training that still lingered in the air. Outside, the courtyard was pure fucking chaos.

Mo had rigged together a makeshift slip and slide from a tarpaulin, two buckets of magically conjured jelly, and a very enthusiastic ferret in a helmet. Mela stood at the top of it, hollering like a banshee, while Riven attempted to surf down it standing upright on a stolen shield. He crashed gloriously into a training dummy, knocking it flat with a very loud, "Victory is MINE, bitches!"

Sasha's voice blasted through the courtyard's enchantments.

"Reminder, if you die before the Trial, you forfeit your damn slot. That includes death by idiocy, glitter poisoning, or jelly based concussions."

"I regret nothing!" Riven shouted from the floor, covered in purple goo and pride.

Inside, the air was calmer, but just barely. People had gathered for a quick dinner, and the room was full of movement, laughter, and tension that hummed beneath it all. The chosen. The bonded. The batshit elite of the rebellion.

Rhiannan sat at the center of it all, surrounded by her mates. Kaleb was radiating alpha authority. Arwen nibbled on roast fish and fed scraps to a smug pigeon. Azarion was polishing a dagger with zero subtlety while watching Riven through the window like he was tempted to throw it. Sable stood behind her chair like a living storm, his demon eyes glowing faintly. Elisha was scribbling notes between bites, muttering something about elemental stability and possible dragon egg fertility timelines.

"Alright," Rhiannan finally said, standing. "That's enough food. War room. Let's go."

The war room buzzed as they poured in, an army of power, trauma, loyalty, and fate.

Reyna, dressed in deep crimson leathers, strode in with Vaerix and Veydran close behind, Torvax beside her sharpening a dagger, and Nahlia rolling her eyes at them all like she was babysitting gods. Gailia entered next, radiant and fierce, her twin mates flanking her with quiet, deadly attention. Mo was still dripping jelly, dragging Mela behind him, and Riven carried a chicken under one arm that nobody was going to question.

Veena and Caelira arrived with their phoenix mate, feathers shimmering faintly in the dim lighting. Zaiya swept in like a walking threat, her two mates behind her in matching smug grins. Barrick thudded into place with his three glowing nymph mates, smelling like moss, explosions, and poor decision making. Kazra appeared in a puff of smoke and dramatic cleavage, both her mates already arguing over who got to sit closer to her throne of daggers.

Then came the Dream Team.

Bruxxa slinked in first, barefoot and terrifying, dried blood still under her claws. Iriel entered next, void eyed and flawless, holding the hand of Neressa, the royal mermaid emissary turned his bonded lover. Soris arrived last, wings half visible, divine energy cloaked but unmistakable. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. Liora Sparkwhistle, his tiny pink haired pixie mate, hovered near his shoulder like a glowy sugar glazed death threat in heels.

The room fell silent.

Rhiannan stepped forward and Sasha dimmed the torches with a whisper. A glowing projection of the kingdom's map lit up between them all, and the crown insignia of the new realm pulsed to life.

"It's time," she said, voice steady and thunder laced. "No more makeshift councils. No more temporary fixes. This kingdom needs structure. Permanence. A ruling body the people can trust. And I won't build it with politics and empty names. I'll build it with the people who bled for it."

Sasha projected the proposed ruling system Rhiannan had designed.

"There will be three villages: Emberreach, MoonHollow, and Thornhelm Vale."

"Elisha," she said, glancing at the elemental alpha, "you've got the site picked for MoonHollow?"

"I do. Waterfalls. Caverns. Magic-rich leyline access. It's perfect," he replied.

"Good. Each village will have one Lord or Lady, and under them, three Nobles in charge of...

Trade and Banking,

Farming and Supplies,

Housing and Public Happiness."

Murmurs of approval spread through the room.

"These will not be handed to the rich or the bloodlined. We will hold the Noble Trials open, fair, and fucking grueling. Anyone who wishes to serve can compete. No favorites. No corruption."

She paused and looked directly at the people she trusted most.

"I'm naming my Royal Council now. These six will help shape every major decision, starting tonight."

Her eyes swept the room as she spoke their names:

"Reyna. Mo. Gailia. Bruxxa. Soris. Iriel."

Whispers echoed. A few gasps. Even Sasha paused her sassy commentary.

Rhiannan raised her chin.

"You are my right hand. My inner circle. You'll oversee the Noble Trials and help choose the Lords and Nobles for each village. I want plans drawn. Schedules created. This happens within the month."

Mo raised a glittery hand. "Can I make a sexy flyer?"

"No cocks on the parchment this time," Sasha snapped.

"No promises," Mo muttered.

Rhiannan continued, "My mates and I will handle the Trial of Valor tomorrow. That trial is for warriors. Fighters. Commanders. But we also need leaders. Hearts. Builders."

She looked to her Council again.

"You six will help me find them."

Soris bowed slightly, wings flickering with faint light. Iriel nodded once, void eyes shining. Bruxxa just growled and muttered, "Let's get this shit done."

Reyna crossed her arms. "We'll find the ones worth building a kingdom with."

Rhiannan turned back to Sasha. "Lock it in. Finalize the ruling structure and broadcast it through Faenet by morning."

Sasha's voice rang through the chamber. "Confirmed. The monarchy is now bound by this charter. Good luck, my Queen. You'll need it."

"I always do," Rhiannan said.

And with that, the room exploded into strategy talk, whispered plans, and a hundred new futures being born under torchlight.

Fourteen hours and fifty six minutes until the Trial began.

And the kingdom? Was finally starting to take shape.

The wind whispered around the high towers of the castle like it was holding its breath.

Reyna stood at her window, wrapped in a velvet robe the color of dried roses, staring out into the night as torchlight flickered below. The castle grounds buzzed with quiet motion, soldiers sharpening blades, fae murmuring prayers, and Sasha's voice occasionally threatening someone over the speaker system for attempting to enchant a chicken.

But inside her room, it was quiet. Sacred.

Behind her, the soft creak of the bed and the rustle of clothes told her her mates were settling in for the night. But she couldn't move.

"I used to watch her," she whispered, voice barely audible over the wind. "On Faenet. I used to sit in a shitty little loft and replay her videos like they were holy. Rhiannan. The way she fought. The way she spoke truth even when it burned. She gave me hope."

Torvax paused from unbuckling his belt and looked up sharply.

"I was just a nobody," Reyna continued, eyes glassy. "Just some girl who believed. And now… I'm on her royal council. A goddess literally touched me. I'm a fucking Oracle now. I see the damn future. And I.."

She broke.

The tears hit fast and hot, and she sank to the floor, legs folding under her like her body couldn't hold the weight of it all anymore.

"I don't deserve this," she choked out. "I'm not ready. I'm not enough for this."

Nahlia was at her side in seconds, wrapping herself around Reyna with fierce tenderness.

"Shut the hell up with that talk," she whispered, cradling her. "You are so enough. You're made for this."

Torvax knelt beside them, his arms sliding around both women like a shield. "You're our heart, Reyna. Don't forget that."

Then the door creaked softly and in walked Vaerix Bloodfang, and the quiet demon Veydran, silent as shadow.

His eyes, those glowing, feral orbs, landed on her, and his whole body tensed like someone had struck his soul. In three strides, he was kneeling at her other side, pulling her into his lap like she weighed nothing.

Veydran followed, silent as always.

They didn't speak. They didn't need to.

They just wrapped their arms around her and pressed a kiss to her hairline, holding her so tight she could barely breathe.

And somehow, that made her breathe easier.

"You don't have to carry this alone," Vaerix finally murmured, voice low and wild and holy. "Not when you have a pack. Not when you have us." Veydran nodded in agreement, kissing her cheeks and wiping her tears away.

"I just… I'm overwhelmed," Reyna whispered, tears still flowing. "I went from a scared girl with no power to this. And I keep waiting for someone to realize I don't belong."

"You do belong," Nahlia said, cupping her face. "You're Reyna the fucking Oracle. You're powerful. You're brilliant. You're ours."

Torvax kissed her hand. "And we love you. Even when you're spiraling."

Vaerix pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. "Especially when you're spiraling."

Veydran just pressed his lips to her hand and whispered, " You are everything Reyna. Our Queen."

She laughed, wet and broken and beautiful. "I just really fucking love you guys."

Nahlia leaned in with a smile. "We know, babe."

Torvax helped them all to the bed and pulled the covers up around them, limbs tangling together in practiced rhythm. Vaerix curled around Reyna's back, massive and warm and humming with barely restrained divine magic. Torvax spooned her from the front, heart against heart. Nahlia tucked herself behind Vaerix, one arm stretched over all of them. Veydran curled around Nahlia, holding them all tightly.

The candlelight flickered.

Outside, the stars blinked like ancient witnesses.

And inside, Reyna finally let go.

Twelve hours to the trial.

And her future had never been more certain.