Chapter 258: Episode 258.

The world stopped.

Nate stood frozen.

Aire lay limp against his chest, warm, breathing, and alive. Yet he couldn’t even celebrate.

His eyes remained locked on Alaric.

The vines had disappeared the instant they struck him, dissolving into black smoke that vanished into his skin as though they had never existed.

Only the blood remained. There was so much blood.

It streamed steadily from both of Alaric’s nostrils, trailing over his lips and down his neck before soaking into the front of his shirt.

For one impossible heartbeat, nobody moved. Nobody could even breath.

“ALARIC!” Xander’s scream shattered the silence.

He ran. Not even remembering his own feet.

He dropped to his knees so hard beside Alaric that the impact bruised them against the stone.

His shaking hands reached for his brother’s shoulders.

“Alaric…” He called, and there was nothing.

“Al…” There was still nothing.

Xander swallowed. He slapped Alaric’s cheek lightly.

“Wake up.”

Silence responded to him. His breathing became frantic.

He slapped his cheek again, this time, so hard. “Wake up!” He growled at him.

Still, there was no response from Alaric. He simply laid still on the floor. King Elijah reached them in seconds. One look, and that was all it took.

The king’s face lost every trace of colour.

“No…” His voice cracked.

He immediately knelt beside his son, sliding one arm beneath Alaric’s shoulders while supporting his head with the other.

Blood stained his hands instantly.

“Alaric.”

He got no response, and King Elijah’s heart lurched. He lips trembled, and he fought hard to keep it all together.

His son had always answered him. Even if only with silence, and not this. Never this.

He looked toward the witches. For the first time in decades, true panic entered his voice.

“START DOING SOMETHING!” He growled at them. His roar shook the chamber. “NOW!”

The witches jolted into motion.

There was no hesitation.

Seven witches rushed toward Alaric while three others hurried to Nate and Aire.

“Lay her down.”

Nate obeyed instantly.

He lowered Aire carefully onto one of the ceremonial blankets spread beside the basin.

His hands refused to leave her.

One witch placed glowing fingers against Aire’s forehead, and another touched her pulse.

A third rested both palms above the wound on her shoulder. Silver light spread slowly across Aire’s body.

The witches exchanged quick glances.

One nodded, and another smiled.

The eldest finally let out the breath she had been holding.

“She’s alive.” She let out a breah of relief. “She’s weak, but she lives.”

Nate nearly collapsed.

“She’ll recover.”

His entire body sagged.

“The wound is deep,” the witch continued, “but clean.”

Another witch closed her eyes. “The Light Fae healed far more than we expected.”

A third nodded. “Her body is exhausted, and her magic is nearly depleted.”

“But…” The eldest looked up. “She is safe.”

Nate’s eyes burned.

“She only needs rest.”

“Several days.”

“Perhaps longer.”

“But she will wake.”

Tears filled Nate’s eyes so suddenly he couldn’t stop them. The witches all spoke at once, and kept talking, but he could barely hear them anymore.

He laughed softly. A sob broke free through the laugh.

“Thank the Moon Goddess…”

His hand found Aire’s hair. He brushed trembling fingers away from her face. “You came back.”

His forehead rested gently against hers.

“You actually came back.”

Across the chamber, the atmosphere couldn’t have been more different. The witches surrounding Alaric weren’t smiling.

None of them.

Silver light poured continuously into his body.

It disappeared beneath his skin almost immediately.

Then, there was nothing. No improvement, and no change. Even his wolf beneath him laid dead.

One witch frowned at the feeling of his wolf unresponsive. Another increased the amount of magic she released.

Still, there was nothing.

The eldest witch moved over to Nate and pressed both hands directly above Alaric’s chest.

Her eyes widened. “No…”

Another witch felt it too.

Her expression drained. “It can’t be…”

King Elijah looked between their faces. His heartbeat quickened. “Speak.”

Nobody answered.

The eldest closed her eyes again.

She searched deeper. She searched far deeper, and then suddenly, she recoiled violently.

Her hands flew away from Alaric’s chest as though she’d touched fire.

“What is it?” King Elijah demanded.

The witch stared at her own shaking hands. Her lips trembled. “It…” She couldn’t speak.

Another elder witch immediately replaced her.

Moments later, she froze too.

Very slowly, she looked toward the king. There was pity in her eyes. Real pity.

King Elijah stopped breathing. “Alaric…” His voice came out barely audible. “Answer me.”

The witch swallowed. “My King…”

“Get out.”

“Please…” She struggled to continue. “The magic…” Her eyes returned to Alaric. “…is Dark Fae magic.”

“It…” Her voice broke. “…is an execution spell.”

The words echoed through the chamber.

Xander stared at her. “What?”

The eldest witch finally found her voice again. “It enters through the wound.” She pointed weakly toward Alaric’s chest. “Then wraps itself around the heart.”

King Elijah felt cold.

“It tightens.” Her hands slowly closed into fists to demonstrate. “Again.”

She tightened them further. “And again.” She closed them completely. “Until…” Nobody wanted her to finish. “…the heart can no longer beat.”

Silence swallowed the room whole.

Xander shook his head. He looked at the witches. “Remove it.”

Nobody moved.

“I SAID REMOVE IT!” His voice cracked into a scream.

The eldest witch’s eyes filled with empathy.

“We can’t.”

King Elijah stared at her. “…What?” His eyes fell, lost.

“It cannot be separated.” She swallowd, equally heartbroken. “It binds directly to life itself.”

“We’ve never…” Her breathing faltered. “…never seen anyone survive it. No one is meant to survive it.”

Nate slowly lifted his head from beside Aire. His face had gone white. “What are you saying?”

The witch lowered her eyes.

“My Prince…” She couldn’t look at Elijah anymore. “…Prince Alaric…”

She took in a deep breath, and another long silence existed before she parted her lips again to speak.

“…may not survive.”

The words fell into the chamber like stones. The wind outside seemed to stop.

King Elijah simply stared at his son.

His little boy.

The child who had once insisted he could fight wolves twice his size with a wooden sword. The prince who smiled the least, but loved the deepest.

His hands began trembling. He whispered.

“My son…” His voice broke further. “…you’re not leaving me.”

A single tear left his left eye, and another followed, leaving his right eye. He remained kneeling exactly where he was.

His hands still cradled Alaric’s head as though letting go would somehow make the words true.

The eldest witch lowered her gaze.

“My King—”

“Say nothing.” His voice grew firmer. “My son is alive.”

He looked down at Alaric’s face. Blood had stopped flowing as heavily now, leaving dark streaks across pale skin.

His eyelashes rested quietly against his cheeks. He looked asleep. Nothing more, and nothing less.

Elijah reached out with trembling fingers and brushed a strand of dark hair away from his forehead.

“You always sleep too deeply.”

A faint smile tried to appear across his lips, but it couldn’t. “You frightened me like this once. You once climbed the tallest oak in the kingdom.”

He drew in another shaky breath.

“And refused to come down.” His thumb brushed gently across Alaric’s cheek. “You cried for hours.”

His lips trembled.

“I had to climb after you myself.”

Elijah swallowed hard.

“You’ve always been so stubbornly quiet.” His voice had become impossibly soft now. “Now stop this.”

“Answer me.” He demanded, when Alaric remained quiet. His words barely carried beyond Alaric’s body.

“You’ve never ignored me before.” His breathing hitched. “Not like this.”

Around the chamber, thw witches quietly lowered their heads. Several witches had begun crying openly.

One covered her mouth with both hands to stop the sound escaping.

Xander couldn’t breathe.

He remained kneeling beside them, staring at his brother as though looking long enough might force life back into him.

Xander grabbed Alaric’s wrist. “There has to be a pulse.” He searched desperately. His own hands shook too violently to feel anything. “There has to be.”

Nate stood several feet away.

He hadn’t realised tears were already running down his face until one landed on Aire’s hand.

He looked at her, then back at Alaric.

It was so ironic how Aire was alive, because Alaric had chosen otherwise. The realization hit him so violently he staggered backwards.

King Elijah finally lifted his head.

His eyes found the eldest witch once more. “There must be something.”

“There isn’t.” She shook her head softly.

“A ritual.” He suggested.

She shook her head.

“A sacrifice.”

She gave him another shake.

King Elijah looked down at Alaric. He sniffed, holding back a sob. “My life.”

The room froze.

“If mine can replace his…”

“My King…”

“Take it.” He offered. His voice never wavered. “I’ve ruled long enough.” He looked back down at Alaric. “He hasn’t even lived.”

Silence answered him.

“There must be an old spell.”

“There isn’t.”

“A forbidden one?”

“There isn’t.”

“Something you’ve never tried.”

“We have.” She whispered. “We lost too many trying.”

Elijah closed his eyes.

For the first time, he understood as a father that this was something crowns could not command.

Death had entered his home, and asked permission from no one.

His shoulders sank. Everyone saw the fight leave him. When he opened his eyes again, his grief became frightingly quiet.

He slipped one arm beneath Alaric’s knees, and the other supported his back gently, as though afraid of waking a sleeping child.

He lifted him softly.

Alaric’s head rolled weakly against his father’s shoulder, and Elijah adjusted him instinctively the same way he had when Alaric was only a little boy who used to fall asleep after long days of training.

The chamber parted silently before him.

His footsteps echoed through the stone. He never looked back. He simply walked forward. He carried his son exactly as he had carried him the day he was born.

Only this time, the entire kingdom knew it would not be the last.

Thank you so much, Jennifer McKern for staying. I owe it to you to complete this book. No matter how sad or depressed I get about it.