Mated to Morpheus

MTM.54

the end is near

It was time.

"Finally," Morpheus purred into my ear, his whisper parting as his lips crumpled against the crook of my neck. A tremor coated my legs as I locked my arm around his. Throughout my unease, he planted trails of kisses on the exposed skin of my shoulders.

I straightened the creases of my vanilla white dress, tugging at the close-fitting fabric until the material was compressed against every curve of my form. The silk draped firmly over my taut silhouette, showcasing my breasts and displaying the outline of my crescent hips. One of his hands maneuvered around to hold my waist. His touch soothed my wandering mind, and I instinctively leaned into his side. A bundle of sparks brightened between us.

Our bodies moulded together, side by side.

There have been several days and many weeks that have passed since the night of Kovina's long-awaited death. A full month had already become lost in time. The mate bond had blossomed between Morpheus and I, unraveling with sweet petals of affirmation and stabilizing itself with a strong stem of routine. Viviana and Max continued to grow as one soul. Johnny and Lyonechka found peace within each other. Avyanna stopped feeling as though she was being hunted by death. Vince discovered an adventurous interest in the Ventus pack. Leo succeeded as a proper, born beta. Valkerie saved an old love from their starved, vampiric hunger. Annora matured into a phenomenal, generational aide.

And, Dad no longer let the torment of grief rot away at his entire existence. Instead, he managed to heal using the memory of Mom's radiance. Not fully, for that might never happen, but enough to live like he once did. There were no more slurred mutters. No more words lined with the stench of cheap alcohol. No more delayed texts. No more sleepless nights. He was back to being the man behind the camera—a poet with his muses.

Our lives progressed beautifully.

And, the morally ambivalent gods and goddesses? They had often appeared through the shadows of colourful sunrises and sunsets. The divine beings seemed to strive for forgiveness, offering saccharine dreams and pleasant dedications in exchange for leniency. Due to these shared feelings of remorse swimming among them, there is now a particular brightness to the world that can only be accomplished by the godly—which has been a change greatly cherished by the young and the old alike. However, they had meddled in the lives of innocents, and that fact cannot be erased.

The Ventus Pack has been especially flourishing. Across the vast acres of land, children were basking in the warmth from the sun and sleeping soundly underneath the comforting umbra of the moon. The looming sky had been frequently clear of much stress, after all. Amongst the fields of vegetation, the bounty has become exceptionally prosperous with an ample amount of fruits and vegetables. It was thus an honest paradise. Those who inhabited the territory thrived off the nearby bodies of water, bathing, drinking, and utilizing the restorative nectar. It had soon become a land of perfection, aiding those who carry the blood of human, beast, or even both.

It is clear, Morpheus once told me on a walk through the ageless forest, that they are repentant.

Their efforts lingered like the acquired taste of liquorice, both sweet with a burst and bitter with a bite. They hid behind the guise of being saints, presenting too good to be true gifts, yet they would be the first to unleash you into the unknown dangers of the wild. Your decomposing corpse would only feed into their ideal world. Your death would mean nothing, but your efforts would be dearly missed. Morpheus reassured me of that, that to survive among the all-powerful deities, you must be useful. A mother's love is conditional—you must wholly support her vision and fight against the prophecy of exhaustion. An aunt's presence is dependent—you must attain for her acceptance and accomplish her own observations. In truth, you must live up to their impossible expectations, or simply die trying.