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But what really makes me breathless is the rush of power that surges out from him and wraps around my body, knocking the air from my lungs yet at the same time filling me with such raw energy I don't think I will ever need to breathe again.

He is my Creator.

He is the One who breathed life into me and destined every moment of my existence.

He is the presence I have always felt beside me even when I doubted anyone could ever truly love or care for me.

Without any other thought than one of complete surrender, I fall to my knees in the shallow water, and feel his approach with a thunderously beating heart in my chest. Everything within me submits to the One who holds true power. The King who wove every fibre of my being comes closer until I feel the ground beneath my knees rumble and vibrate with his intense presence.

I can do nothing but keep my head bowed, my neck bared in submission as His power washes over me, stronger than the gentle waves that swirl around my bent knees. I dare not even take a breath as I feel Him draw closer still.

"Ariella...."

My name comes from His lips with roaring thunder, so loud it echoes off the shore and water's surface, resonating in my ears. Yet so gentle and soft I feel it whisper through every cell in my body.

Ariella...

I cannot stop my body from trembling, my lungs gasping for air as the acute awareness of the King's proximity engulfs me. Even with my eyes closed, I feel Him kneel in front of me, coming down to my level, and when His hand rests gently on my shoulder, I become completely undone. His essence ripples through me, such all-encompassing love and approval. And something stronger, something that reaches to the very core of me and claims me.

I have always been His, for He made me.

But now He is choosing me again, reaching down to my level, to my brokeness, to my shattered and frail body, and He draws me to himself.

I feel his strong arms wrap around me, and I clutch his shirt as tears run unashamedly down my face. I don't realise how afraid I was of Him rejecting me until I feel such powerful acceptance surge from His being to mine, from His heart to mine.

"My sweet, sweet Daughter. You will always belong to me. No one can ever take you away from me, and I will never turn from you. Do you believe this?"

His voice is like the quaking earth, reckless and unfettered, yet measured and sturdy like a mountainous waterfall. Crashing like a set of tidal waves, while at the same time murmuring tenderly like a subdued spring shower.

I nod, still not daring to look up at the King's face. But when His warm fingers gently lift my chin, I raise my eyes to a glory so bright I immediately close them. I've read that no mortal man has ever looked upon the face of God, and now I no longer wonder why. His face is a brilliance so intense, I feel as though I might burn up from it.

But I know I am completely safe in His arms, and settle for focusing on the blue tassels that tie the neck of his golden tunic together.

"My King, may I ask... what is your name?" I ask, astounded that my voice came out in something above a fragile whisper. I suppose His warm hands that still hold me close are giving me strength beyond what I can imagine.

Those powerful hands slide up my arms affectionately and come to rest on my shoulders, before He speaks in that mystifying voice that will remain in my memory forever, "I have been called many things. Elohim. Adonai. Yahweh. King of kings, Lord of lords. The first and the last. But you probably know me better as... Father."

I tremble at the intensity of His authoritative and gentle voice, the rich timbre rushing through me like a wave of love and comfort. I bury my face in His shirt, the warmth of His chest seeping into my skin and embracing my entire body. His arms band around me again and hold me tight, tighter yet more gently than any embrace I have ever known.

"Father," I whisper, the word sweet and light on my tongue, but also profound and full of meaning where it resonates in my heart. It vibrates within every cell of my body, electrifying the air around us. It draws me closer to Him, my heart thumping recklessly with the strength of the bond it has always known, yet not always recognised.

And for the first time, more so than at any other time or in any other place, I feel I am truly home.

"What is it you would like me to do?"

"You are so very eager to start," the King, my Father, chuckles, the rich and playful sound catching me off guard. It compels me to laugh also, yet I am unsure if that would be polite in the presence of someone so powerful.

So I bite my lip for a moment, planning my next words carefully. My mind is still reeling with where I have found myself, in the King's paradise with countless faithful souls resting under His protection.

And now, being in the King's presence, I am filled with such awe that I find it hard to grasp any meaning to my insignificant thoughts. "Yes, well...I have only ever wanted to do what is right. Yet it seems I keep failing. I've lied to my parents, I've betrayed Malachi and his pack, I've fallen for the charms of a man so treacherous, and because of that so many deaths are on my head. So much spilled blood, and it's all my fault."

I swallow convulsively and wrap my arms around myself, trying to still the tremor that has infused my bones. "It's no wonder Malachi rejected me, to keep my toxic hands from hurting his pack even more," I pour out my failures and soul-crushing fears, the guilt that still clings to me, not bothering to keep anything from the God of the universe. I know He can read every thought in my head as though they are written on a papyrus scroll in indelible ink.

His hand comes to rest in the middle of my back, rubbing in soothing motions that unwind the knots plaguing my quivering frame. "You should not take all the blame. It wasn't your fault. There was much evil working against you. Sure, you are not perfect, my Daughter. I do not expect you to always make wise decisions. Just always be listening, and I will guide you."

I feel myself relax, His calm strength infusing me again. "That feeling I get in my heart, a stirring or urging. That's been you, hasn't it?"

He nods, and I imagine a coy smile on his face. He turns and directs me down the shoreline, our feet padding smoothly over the soft sand.

I narrow my eyes, "So why then does it often lead me into trouble?" I remember the times I'd been chased by wolves, pushed from cliffs, my steps dogged by demons, the lies spun before my eyes meant to drag me down into despair. My dreams and fanciful ideas haven't always ended in sunshine and rainbows. The path has never been easy, and sometimes downright foolish.

The King releases a heavy sigh, "Trouble is drawn like a magnet to those who are doing what is right, unfortunately. Darkness will always seek to corrupt the light."

"You are speaking of Lucius and his evil henchmen? They roam the earth and plague us mortals, Gabriella explained. Must it always be like that?"

The King's fists close tightly, and I notice the tension that hardens his shoulders. I imagine his strong jaw clenching as palpable anger rolls off Him. The wind picks up around us, thick gusts stirring the ocean and causing large waves to crash towards the shore. I feel the King's righteous fury in the elements surrounding us. "For a time. I have given my angels free will, and some have chosen to rebel against everything I have commanded of them. They insist on corrupting and destroying my originally perfect creation. I will not stop them. Yet."

"So you do have a plan?" I ask breathlessly, caught up and tossed around in the stormy sea of his words, the final one like a firm gust of wind flinging me to shore where I find reprieve.

"Well, of course I do." Again, the ground shakes beneath my feet as the King chuckles gently. "And you, my Dearest, are a part of it."

The sea calms, and along with it the hammering of my traitorous heart.

I beam, feeling honoured and unworthy at once. "So what is it You want me to do?" I repeat my earlier question, eager to begin this important task. I will do anything for my King, for the God who has touched me so gently yet holds such power in His hands, that I know he can crush Lucius and all his horrid schemes with just a single fist.

"I need you to go back to Malachi, and keep loving him," He tells me in all seriousness. "Will you do that?"

I suck in a sharp breath, my feet coming to a halt. I worry that God will be annoyed with my conflicted reaction, yet even in this moment of hesitation, the King waits patiently for my response. "Yes, I can," I carefully agree, then falter and look down, hiding my face behind my hair. "But... but I must admit, it is becoming difficult. Sometimes I am just so tired and weary of the game we play, of me loving him and he never taking it seriously. I understand now he had many other important things filling his mind, but... we could've worked through it all together. Instead, he... He pushed me away so many times," I stammer and reach to flick away the tear that slips from my eyes. But the King's hand has already brushed it away, his fingers light and gentle against my skin.

"I know, my Daughter. But he is different now, you will see." His voice is light and contains an air of excitement, as if He can't wait for me to find something out for myself. "Besides, I will always give you the strength to do what you must. Ariella, how have you been loving him all this time?"

I am confused by His question. "He is my mate. Of course I loved him. Maybe not from the start. There was—and still is—so much I don't know about him. But I knew I would always love him eventually. You made us for each other."

The certainty that Malachi and I would work out never really wavered, though doubts and frustration hounded me. I knew, deep in my heart, that God had not made a mistake pairing us together.

The King nods, "Yes, and I gave you the love for him. You allowed my love to flow through you and out to those around you, and especially to your mate. Some people are difficult to love with your own feelings alone. But I will always strengthen you, Ariella. You just have to allow me."

"I will. I will always pray for your strength in everything I do. I can't live without You, my King." We begin slowly walking again, and I am grateful for the movement that keeps my nervous energy occupied.

He nods in satisfaction, his rosewood waves of hair shining golden with ambient light. His majestic crown dazzles and glitters with perfection. Then His voice deepens, "Some people live without me. They die without me, too," He says wryly, and I understand in this moment how much His heart aches for those who have rejected Him.

He is not just a sovereign who wishes his subjects to follow his commands, to fight in battles or build great cities in His name. He gives us each a free will to choose to follow Him. We can choose to accept His fathomless love, and love Him in return. Or we could reject Him, with all the bitterness and hatred that one spurns a mate.

"I pity them," I say earnestly, thinking of the rogues and monsters who have never accepted the gift of life and goodness. How different the world would be if they saw each other through the eyes of our Creator? If they understood each life had worth beyond all the gold and rubies in existence. If they fought for the King instead of against him.

"I always knew you had a tender and pure heart, Ariella. That is why I chose you for this purpose. But it is up to you. The choice will always be yours, Daughter."

Biting my lip in deep concentration, I furrow my brows. "What if I don't accept this purpose you have for me?"

He sighs, a low rumbling that is multi-layers of audible sound. "You can remain here and rest," He waves his arm to the beautiful paradise around us. "You have suffered much on earth, and I would understand if you wished to stay here. I will find someone else to do the task."

I come to an abrupt stop. "Someone else to love Malachi?"

"Well, perhaps not the loving part. There is more to the task than just that. But do I detect jealousy in your tone?"

I sense He is teasing me, and I feel a blush steal over my cheeks. I don't know why I am embarrassed by the sudden possessive feelings I have towards Malachi. "He is my mate. Of course I want him to myself. I always have, selfish though that sounds."

"It is natural," the King waves his hand, brushing aside my flustered feelings and putting me at ease again. "I made you for each other, remember? I placed the desire in your heart for one another. It would please me immensely for you to enjoy the life together I intended. But as I said, it won't come without a cost. Life is never easy."

"I know. That is what I have yearned for, for so long. For us to be together in that way, never to doubt each other or distance to grow between us. And you are saying it is finally within reach. But... but a part of me wants to stay here. It is all so perfect and lovely, and I have everything I need. I have you," I smile up at Him, my eyes averting before the intensity of his face blinds them.

He chuckles softly, stirring a fragment of mirth in my own chest even as I wonder why He is laughing. "But you will always have me. No matter where you go, I will always be with you," He tilts his head and looks at me sideways, and I smile again.

"True. But will I always see you so clearly as now? How will I remember you are so close?"

"You've seen me many times, Daughter. You just haven't recognised me."

"I have?"

He nods good-naturedly, "In the forests you love so much. The meadows filled with gorgeous and delicate flowers. The mountains that rise with stubborn tenacity towards the sky. The complexity of each leaf that clings to the trees until gravity tugs them away every autumn."

His rich voice weaves like poetry around me, his words hanging in the air like glittering crystals of truth. I hang onto them, wishing to write them down in my drawings so I never forget.

He continues, "You see me in the courses of the stars, the changing of the seasons. The smiling children you adore playing with. Each scene you draw, you are drawing me. The stirring of your heart, that is me beckoning you to walk a path unknown. My fingerprints are on all of creation. My image is woven into the very fabric of you."

"I've never thought of it like that," I lower my head, blinking back tears that gather in my eyes. Such persistent tears, I feel I must have cried a waterfall by now. Why am I so emotional? I glance at the all-powerful creator King walking beside me, at the endless love I feel enveloping me as it surges out of His heart, and with a smile on my face I stop wondering why.

He strokes my hair fondly, as a father does their most beloved daughter, then lays his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me close once more, "Not very many recognise me, but you are special, my Daughter. You have seen much more than you realise. You have heard my messages to you and heeded them. That is why I know I can trust you to do this for me and for your mate. So what will you decide?" His warm and rich voice cascades over me, the reverential sound reflected in the wind and sea around us. The King takes both my hands in His and rubs soothing circles on my palms.

With a fluttering heart, my body trembling not from fear but with determined anticipation, I give Him my answer.

___🤍🤍___

The swift change in temperature surprised him, although after what he'd witnessed tonight, he knew nothing would really surprise him ever again.

Malachi shivered against the frigid air that now slunk from between the trees and took up residence all around him. Finitely small specks of snow fluttered down from the branches above, and he was thankful for at least the trees' small measure of shelter.

His legs cramped as they sat folded beneath him, his knees still pushed into the dirt where he fell to them. He hadn't moved since Ariella drew her last breath, growing fatally still in his arms. He'd clutched her body and spent all his remaining energy mourning her death. He'd drained his last measures of strength in soulful cries and soft whimpers, tears streaming unashamedly from his eyes and falling onto her white skin.

Glistening in the now silver light of the moon, he stared at her face, framed by her tousled yet silken brown hair, and marveled at the peaceful expression she wore that contradicted the torment in his heart.

She was gone, her life ended in such a brutal way, but he believed she had found rest somewhere beyond his understanding. He knew she believed in a God of the universe, but where was He on this terrible night? Why couldn't someone so powerful step down and end this before Seneca's madness had even begun? Why hadn't He saved Ariella, and saved Malachi from having to endure the torture of a darkened soul?

Why did Ariella have to die for Malachi to live?

The questions spiralled in his mind, over and over, in layers of despair that never seemed to end.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I never knew this would happen. I didn't know all of Seneca's plans—"

"Stop that now! Your pathetic words mean nothing. And don't come any closer!" Malachi lifted his head and growled at Knight, at the pathetic excuse of a Beta who had turned on them all. He could hardly believe the man had survived the battle that had raged between rogue, demon, and his own loyal wolves. A jagged red wound cut across his face, from his forehead to his chin, and a stream of blood flowed slowly before it congealed. He was not unscathed, yet Malachi found himself wishing that he had fared worse in the unfair fight.

"I mean those words. Every one of them. If I could go back and undo everything I've done..." Knight's voice cracked, and he sank to his knees a few paces away. Clutching his head between his hands, he rocked back and forth, a quiet keening sound coming from his throat. "I can't explain what came over me, making me do those things... but it's my fault. Luna Ariella," he whispered, his face looking to her in agony. "I promised I would always protect you. But I failed. Please forgive me. I am nothing but a wretch."

Malachi watched with narrowed eyes, not wanting to believe the man looked earnest in his brokenness. "You should leave my territory, and never come back," the Alpha spoke through gritted teeth. Yet even as he did, his mind conjuring a hundred ways he could enact vengeance on this man for Ariella's death, he couldn't find it in his heart to be so cruel.

He was so weary and sick of all this bloodshed and senseless death. But was that really it? Or had his heart actually changed somehow? Looking back down at Ariella, he knew she wouldn't want Knight to be exiled if he was truly repentant for what he had done. She'd even pitied the cruel wolves who tormented her, wishing to pay respect at their funeral.

If she were here, would she see into the heart of Knight and understand his true motives? Would she see his change of heart and extend forgiveness?

More importantly, would she see the difference in Malachi that he was now beginning to feel? For as he stared at Knight, at the scattered ashes of the vanquished demons, and at the deadly knife that still lay only a foot away in the leafy litter, he wondered at the lightness in his chest, the absence of the heavy darkness that had haunted him for as long as he could remember.

His soul grieved the loss of Ariella, but a calm had crept in and eased the acute pain. A sense of relief from torment, a clearer awareness of the strength and goodness he'd always had buried inside, was now bubbling to the surface. It was like a spring of sweet water had been unlocked, unfettered inside him, and he was free to become better.

To be the upright man Ariella had always seen in him.

"I will speak with you later, Knight. If that's even your name," Malachi whispered to the man who still crouched before him, tears running down his bloodied face. "But please leave me alone for now."

Knight nodded vigorously, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. Before he rose to go, he approached carefully and opened his fist. A few flowers tumbled out, their bright petals of colour stark and vivid against the blackened ground. Malachi recognised them as the ones she had tenderly grown in his barren garden, and he marveled that they had bloomed despite the cold season.

Knight placed them neatly before Ariella, a small memorial to her life, and the young Alpha nodded his acceptance, his own throat once more clogged with unspeakable emotion.

Malachi drew Ariella close again, placing one more kiss on her forehead. He should move, he knew. He needed to get up and lay her to rest, and tend to his pack that had suffered more loss than he first imagined. But how could he do it when he himself felt so dead inside? He had never contemplated what his life would be like with his soulmate wrenched from him by death. He had thought he could survive if she were elsewhere, safe and away from his dark troubles.

But this was so much worse than he anticipated, and he whispered words of regret in Ariella's ear. Words of sincere apology. Words begging for forgiveness, just like Knight's yet so much more fervent. Words that he could only pray she'd understand from beyond her lifeless body.

"Alpha, we need you."

He heard Harlow plead, her voice cracking as she knelt over her brother's unconscious body. He knew she was right. This pack needed a leader, someone to unite them amidst this dividing tragedy, and help them rebuild a new future.

He looked around him, his vision crisp, each sense humming to life as his lungs took in air that tasted sweet and tangy on his tongue. Everything was different now, and he somehow believed he would have the strength to be the Alpha this pack needed despite his dark past.

"I will never forget your sacrifice, my Dearest," he murmured to Ariella, his lips brushing over her soft skin. "And I will never stop loving you."

Holding Ariella carefully to his chest, he rose to his feet, prepared to bury his mate and all the dreams he once dared to have for their future together.

But everything was different now.