For a long mont, Zenaya simply stood there, unable to breathe properly.
Did she really just do it?
Did she truly form a contract with a beast?
A beast.
Not a borrowed one. Not one handed to her under special protection. Not one forced into submission by so outside power.
A beast that answered her.
Her fingers trembled faintly as the reality settled in. Through the bond, she could feel it clearly, a deep, steady presence resting in the back of her mind like a mountain sleeping beneath clouds. Its thoughts were not words, not in the way humans spoke, but they carried weight and texture. A quiet awareness. A living will.
Her chest tightened.
I did it.
And just like that, her thoughts were no longer in the present.
They drifted back.
She saw herself as a child again, standing in the courtyard of the Moonshade Family estate, her hands small and her eyes bright with a kind of fire that only children possess. The banners of the Moonshade Family fluttered above her head, marked with the ancient crest of their bloodline, a sigil that symbolized harmony between humans and blood beasts.
Her father had stood before her that day.
Tall. Calm. Famous.
The greatest beast tar of the Moonshade Family.
"Zenaya," he had said, crouching down to et her eyes. "Do you know why our family is respected?"
"Because we are strong," she had answered proudly.
He laughed softly and shook his head. "Strength alone is nothing. We are respected because we understand beasts. We do not force them. We do not enslave them. We walk with them."
She had nodded eagerly. "I will walk with them too."
He placed his large hand on her head, warm and steady. "You will beco greater than ."
Her small hands had clenched into fists. "I will beco the greatest Moonshade family tar!"
He smiled in a way that made her feel like the world was simple and safe.
That promise had burned in her heart for years.
Until the day she realized sothing was wrong.
She rembered her first attempt at the elder training grounds.
She was older then, perhaps sixteen, standing in the wide stone arena where young talents proved themselves. Around her stood other heirs and promising disciples. The air had been thick with expectation.
A mid-tier blood fox had been brought forward, bound by formation chains but still fierce, its crimson fur gleaming under the sun.
Zenaya had stepped forward confidently.
"I will form the contract," she had declared.
There had been whispers in the crowd.
"Of course she will."
"She is the daughter of that man."
"She must have inherited everything."
She rembered drawing her first serious taming circle, her hands shaking only slightly as she pressed it toward the fox’s head.
The fox had snarled.
The circle cracked.
She tried again.
And again.
And again.
Each ti the fox resisted with increasing violence until it broke free of the circle and lunged forward, forcing the supervising elder to step in and restrain it.
Silence had filled the arena.
She rembered the way her ears rang.
Soone had laughed.
"Maybe she is not as talented as we thought."
Another voice, softer but sharper, had followed. "Are we sure she is truly his daughter?"
She had turned toward the sound.
A young man from a branch family stood there with a smirk on his face.
"What did you say?" she demanded, her voice trembling.
He shrugged. "I just said what others are thinking. If she cannot even ta a fox, how can she be the blood of the greatest beast tar?"
A few others chuckled.
"Maybe she was switched at birth."
"Maybe her father is not as great as the stories say."
"Maybe she’s not her fathers!"
"Hahaha! That would explain it."
The words felt like knives.
She rembered stepping forward, fury in her eyes. "Say that again."
The young man folded his arms. "Maybe you are not his blood."
The elder overseeing the ground had barked, "Enough."
But the damage was done.
She could still feel the heat in her face that day. The humiliation. The sha that crawled up her spine and refused to leave.
She went ho that evening with clenched teeth.
Her father had been waiting.
"You failed," he had said gently.
She could not hold it in. "They said I am not your blood."
His eyes darkened.
"Who said that?"
"It does not matter," she whispered.
He walked closer and placed both hands on her shoulders.
"Listen to carefully, Zenaya. Talent can grow. Affinity can awaken. But blood does not lie. You are my daughter."
Her eyes filled with tears. "Then why can I not do it?"
He pulled her into an embrace.
"Because sotis," he said quietly, "the path to your strength is longer."
She clung to that sentence for years.
She tried again and again.
Different beasts.
Different thods.
Different techniques.
She endured more failures, more whispers, more polite smiles that hid doubt.
Then ca the news.
Her father had died in a territorial war.
The ssage arrived at dawn. A sealed letter delivered by a trembling ssenger.
She rembered the way her hands shook as she opened it.
She rembered reading the words twice before they made sense.
Fell in battle.
Protecting allied clans.
No body returned.
The world felt empty after that.
She did not scream. She did not collapse.
She simply stopped trying.
Days turned into months.
Months turned into years.
She no longer entered the training grounds.
She no longer drew taming circles.
But she still studied beasts. She still read about their habits, their instincts, their strengths. She could not cut that part out of herself.
She only stopped believing it was ant for her.
And now...
Now she stood here with a bond in her mind that was real.
Her throat tightened.
"I... did it," she whispered under her breath.
Her gaze slowly moved to Cain.
Cain.
She rembered him clearly from the years before. The so-called useless husband of Faith, Cornelia, and Ivira. The man whispered about behind sleeves. The puppet groom who had married into power without earning it.
She rembered seeing him in family gatherings, standing slightly behind his wives while others looked at him with faint amusent or open scorn.
"He is just decoration."
"He is lucky."
"He has no real strength."
She had not paid much attention to him back then.
But now...
He ordered an untad beast to kneel.
He guided her without drawing attention.
If the clan knew, their eyes would change.
She was still lost in those thoughts when Cain’s voice reached her.
"Congratulations, Elder Zenaya," he said warmly. "Your dream to beco a blood beast tar has co true."
She looked at him, and for a mont her eyes softened.
"Thank you," she said sincerely.
Inside his mind, however, his laughter echoed.
Haha. I did not expect she would make it. I had many fake complints ready. Who knew she could really do it despite having no talent. But whatever. It works out perfectly.
Suddenly, hearing these, her expression froze.
Imdiately, the warmth drained so fast from her eyes.
Her forehead began to burn with anger, and before she could stop herself, tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.
Inside his head, Cain laughed harder.
Is she really crying? What a cute little lady.
Outwardly he nodded approvingly. "Truly good. Truly good."
This made her knuckles tightened until her bones cracked loudly.
For one second she almost stepped forward.
Then she felt sothing tug gently at her mind.
The owl.
She turned her head and saw its golden eyes staring at her with what almost felt like judgnt.
Do not attack him.
The aning entered her mind clearly through the bond.
She blinked.
"You..." she muttered.
It blinked slowly.
And then she felt sothing else.
Not judgnt.
Not pride.
Fear.
Her breath caught.
Through the connection she sensed a heavy tension inside the beast. A pressure that did not co from her. It was not directed at her either.
It was directed at Cain.
Her heart began to beat faster.
Why... is it feeling... afraid?
She slowly stepped closer to the owl. Its massive feathered chest rose and fell with steady breaths, yet beneath that calm exterior there was a deep unease.
Zenaya raised her hand hesitantly and placed her palm against its chest.
The feathers were thick and warm beneath her fingers.
She closed her eyes.
The bond opened wider.
She let her consciousness sink deeper into the connection.
At once she felt it more clearly.
Power.
Not ordinary strength.
Not sothing shallow.
This beast was far beyond what she had first assud.
Its bloodline was deep. Its core burned with dense energy. The formation inside it was complete and stable.
Her mind trembled.
Core Blood Formation realm.
At least that level.
Maybe higher.
Her fingers twitched against the feathers.
How strong is this thing?
And yet...
It was afraid.
The fear was not of her.
It was not of the forest.
It was not of the clan.
It was of Cain.
She pulled her hand back slowly, her eyes widening.
Why would such a beast fear him?
Her gaze moved toward Cain again, studying him more carefully this ti.
He stood casually, hands behind his back, looking almost bored.
Overgod.
The word floated up in her mory.
She had heard it faintly before. From the owl’s instinctive thoughts. From the beast’s reaction.
Overgod.
What is that?
Is that why it fears him?
Her curiosity began to overpower her anger.
She cleared her throat gently.
"Cain," she said.
He looked at her. "Yes, Elder?"
She hesitated for a brief mont, weighing her words.
"What is an Overgod?"
For a second, everything went still.
Cain’s relaxed posture froze.
The faint smile on his lips disappeared.
His eyes, which had been playful and bright, grew dark.
Silence spread outward like a wave.
Zenaya felt the air grow heavy.
Cain slowly turned his head toward her.
"Where," he asked quietly, "did you hear that word?"
Her heart thudded.
"It is... just sothing I sensed," she said carefully.
He stared at her.
The playful man from earlier seed gone.
In his place stood sothing else.
Sothing unknown.
The pressure in the air deepened.
Suddenly, Cain’s eyes blazed in red.
"What did you say?"
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