The world was losing its collective shit.
Faenet servers had to be reinforced twice in the last 24 hours just to handle the traffic flooding into Rhiannan's page.
#MoonbloodGoddess
#GoddessOfTheRealm
#PrincessRescued
Those were trending globally now. Every realm. Every species. Every kingdom.
Support came pouring in. Letters, magical gifts, scrolls that sang her praises, enchanted gold roses, enchanted panties from obsessed fans (ew), and one very bold centaur who offered to be her "ninth husband."
Even Elisha, Dragon King of All, found himself buried in diplomatic bullshit as nobles, royals, and ancient bloodlines showed up at the castle gates begging for an audience.
They didn't make it past the growling welcome committee.
Rhiannan's five men stood like sexy, snarling gargoyles guarding her at all times. Arwen's eyes flashed like stormlight. Kaleb's claws were never far. Liam polished his fangs. Elisha straight up threatened to burn a fae duke to ashes for breathing wrong. And Sable? Sable just stood there silently... cracking his knuckles like he hoped someone tried something.
Gailia's own twin dragon mates weren't much better. They practically welded themselves to her sides and growled at butterflies.
The goddess and the princess, untouchable in their chaos.
Until... FaeView called.
They wanted an exclusive.
A high profile, live streamed, sit down interview to discuss the divine realm, the royal family, the rescue, the growing rebellion and most importantly, the prophecy. The girls agreed.
Because they were not afraid of the spotlight anymore.
They were pampered like royalty...wait, scratch that. Like better than royalty.
Spa day with lavender infused moonflower oils, hair done by enchanted brushes, makeup that shimmered like actual starlight. Silk gowns were draped across their glowing bodies like they were born to rule.
Rhiannan wore silver, her long dark hair spilling down her back in waves, star tattoos glittering along her neck. She looked like a dream carved from midnight and prophecy. Gailia wore deep sapphire blue, her curves hugged in all the right places, her blonde curls bouncing as she twirled for her mates before walking into the great hall.
They stepped into the spotlight like born goddesses.
But the moment they sat down...
Something felt off.
The energy shifted. The "journalists" weren't smiling anymore. The lighting subtly changed. The magic runes around the set flared an eerie crimson.
Then the questions began.
Slander. Lies. Loaded traps.
"Tell us, Goddess Rhiannan, how many lives have you really taken?"
"Princess Gailia, is it true you've turned against your own bloodline for sex and riches?"
"Do you really believe one girl deserves five no seven mates?"
And Rhiannan just smiled.
That slow, dangerous, you fucked around and you're about to find out kind of smile.
Before she could open her mouth, her mates burst through the set like a damn war scene.
Arwen's sword hit the table in a blink. Kaleb's wolf eyes glowed with deadly light. Liam tipped his head back and sighed. "I told y'all... ONE wrong word and we'd bring the whole studio down."
Elisha lit the edge of the rug on actual fire.
Sable? He didn't even talk. Just stood behind Rhiannan, arms crossed, face like a demon god of wrath waiting to be released.
Cameras caught everything. Live.
And then....
Screaming, a lot of it.
WHOOSH.
A hooded figure lunged from the shadows.
A snake assassin. Poisoned blade drawn. Fangs bared.
Audience gasped. The hosts screamed.
Rhiannan didn't even blink.
She caught the snake mid air with one glowing hand and crushed its fucking skull in her fist like it was a rotten grape.
Blood. Everywhere.
Silence.
And then the world lost its damn mind.
Faenet exploded. Again.
The feed cut to black as the assassin's blood dripped down her wrist and she looked right into the camera.
"Y'all really thought I came this far to die on a talk show?"
Mic. Drop.