Chapter 143
The silence after the ritual wasn’t truly silent.
It was the kind of quiet that rang in your ears long after the last sound had faded–a silence so dense it pressed against your skin, heavy and unnatural, as though the very air had forgotten how to move. It felt like the world itself was holding its breath, afraid to exhale too soon.
The last of the glowing runes shimmered weakly across the cavern floor, their golden light dimming with each heartbeat before retreating into the cold, ancient stone. Where moments ago there had been blazing brilliance and searing power, now there was nothing but faint scorch marks etched into the rock and the sharp metallic tang of burnt magic clinging to the air.
I breathed in, and even the air felt altered–thicker, weighted with the residue of what we had done. My chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, each inhale a conscious effort. My muscles trembled from exhaustion, though I had not been the one to speak the ancient words or bear the crushing weight of the final spell. My role had been different–raw, brutal, physical.
I had fought with Mika’s strength.
I had clawed, bit, and shielded.
I had thrown myself again and again at Luca’s essence, forcing him back toward the trap Lira had carved into the very bones of the earth.
But the sealing–the true binding of his spirit–had been hers alone.
And it had cost her.
Lira was still kneeling in the center of the circle. Her head hung low, her sweat–soaked hair plastered to her pale face. Her arms were suspended in the same position they had been when she’d finished the last syllable of the incantation, hands hovering just above the cursed Book. Its surface, once alive with malevolent whispers and dark, oily magic, now lay still and pale in front of her.
The copper scent of blood reached me before I even saw it–a single thin line trailing from the corner of her mouth down to her jaw. My heart lurched at the sight. She was breathing, but her breaths were shallow and erratic, each one sounding like it scraped against her ribs on the way out.
“Lira,” I rasped, forcing my body to move toward her. My bare feet slid across the dust, leaving faint smears of blood and dirt in my wake. My legs felt like lead, heavy and unresponsive. The wolf in me had receded long ago, leaving me human and stripped raw. “Stay with me.”
A shadow fell over me before I reached her.
Francesco.
He was back in human form, but even like this he carried the same bone–deep presence–an alpha’s command wrapped in the quiet, immovable force of a mountain. Blood streaked his jaw and neck, his shirt torn nearly to ribbons, deep gashes still weeping crimson across his side and shoulder. His eyes, though dulled from the battle, still carried the faint, feral glow of the Lycan within.
He crouched beside Lira, his large hand hesitating just above her shoulder. For once, his confidence faltered. He didn’t know if touching her would shatter whatever fragile balance kept her tethered to us.
“She’s alive,” he said at last, his voice low, almost disbelieving. “She did it.”
I followed his gaze to the Book.
It lay at the exact center of the circle, closed now, its once–blackened leather faded to an ashen gray, as if something had sucked the life from it. It looked brittle. Dead.
There was no whispering now, no sick pulse that made the air taste like iron. Just stillness.
“If Luca is destroyed…” My voice cracked mid–thought, the words tumbling out before I could decide whether I wanted to speak them aloud. “This dies
with him.”
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Chapter 143
I had clung to that thought like a lifeline during the fight. It had been sharp and certain in my mind a truth I could lean against white everything else burned. And yet now… standing in the aftermath, staring at the Book’s lifeless shell… certainty felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford.
Francesco’s jaw tightened as he followed my gaze. “We know he’s destroyed,” he said carefully, his tone even, measured, “He’s gone now”
The words landed like sunlight on my skin–warm, almost too warm.
Finally.
Around us, the others were beginning to stir. The battlefield was littered with the wounded and the fallen. Those who still lived moved slowly, their bodies dragging with exhaustion. Beta Alfonso limped toward the nearest group of warriors, scanning for movement, for signs of life.
Audrey was already at Lira’s side, kneeling opposite Francesco, her hands moving with quick, practiced precision as she fumbled for the last of her healing salve. Across the cavern, a handful of knights who had held the defensive perimeter lay motionless.
Too still.
Too quiet.
My stomach twisted violently.
The ground was a patchwork of broken steel and blackened claws, scraps of armor still smoking where magic had burned through them. The copper sting of blood was thick–too thick–seeping from wounds both human and inhuman
My gaze snagged on the still form of one of the younger warriors, his features soft even in death. He couldn’t have been more than seventeen. His sword was still clutched in his hand, fingers stiff in rigor.
I looked away sharply, my hand flying to my mouth. My breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.
“Ellaine.”
Francesco’s voice cut through the fog in my head, sharp but not unkind.
I looked up at him. His eyes locked onto mine, steady, unreadable.
He was still bleeding freely from his side, the gash deep enough that any other man would be on the ground. His shirt was torn in so many places that the fabric hung in tatters. He didn’t seem to notice–or he refused to.
“We need to move,” he said firmly. “This place… it’s not safe to linger. If Luca left any trace–if any part of him escaped-”
“He didn’t,” I cut in, too quickly, my voice too sharp. The words sounded almost like a plea. “He can’t. We sealed him for good.”
For a long moment, Francesco didn’t answer. Then he gave a single, slow nod.
forced my feet to carry me the last few steps to Lira. I dropped to my knees beside her. Audrey and Monica were working together now, trying to coax a few drops of potion past her lips. Her eyelids fluttered faintly, but she didn’t wake.
Her breathing was shallow, each inhale rattling as though her lungs had forgotten the rhythm.
“She pushed herself too far,” Monica murmured, her focus fixed on measuring the potion. “Her magic’s gone. Completely. It’s a miracle she’s still breathing.”
Something inside me clenched so tight I could barely inhale. I wanted to tell Monica she was wrong–that it wasn’t worth it, that no victory was worth this–but I knew Lira wouldn’t have listened.
“She saved all of us,” I said softly.
Audrey’s jaw tightened, but she gave a small nod.
Chapter 143
It took all of us to move her. Francesco lifted her easily, his arms steady despite his own wounds. I stayed close enough that my finger, brushed against her every few steps, needing the reassurance of her warmth.
The others gathered what supplies and bodies they could. The rest… would have to be left behind.
The walk back to the kingdom was endless.
Each step dragged heavier than the one before. The adrenaline that had the dull ache of injuries.
Some warriors carried the dead-limp bodies draped over their st
wounds, but refused to be carried.
or
US
through the fight was gone, leaving behind only exhaustion, grief, and
adled in their arms. Others staggered under the weight of their own
By the time the kingdom’s walls appeared on the horizon, the first light of dawn the clouds. It should have been beautiful. Instead, it felt like an insult–too warm, too bright for the devastation we carried home.
bleeding into the sky. Pale gold and deep crimson stretched across
The gates opened the moment we approached. No questions. No hesitation. Wor took in the sight of us.
I had spread fast. The guards‘ expressions fell into grim silence as they
Inside, the courtyard was already filling. People whispered in hushed tones,
their
eyes scanning our battered group for answers.
When they saw Lira limp in Francesco’s arms, an audible gasp rippled through them.
And then… their eyes turned to me.
Only then did I realize what I must have looked like. Barefoot. My white gown tattered beyond recognition, streaked with dirt, ash, and blood. My silver hair tangled and wild, my skin smeared with the grime of battle.
But they didn’t seem to see any of that.
Their gazes locked on my face–not the filth, not the torn fabric, but the fact that I was walking.
A murmur swept through the crowd.
“Luna Ellaine…”
The sound hit me like a physical blow, deep in my chest. I hadn’t felt like a Luna in full strength had faded from me.
so long–not since
mhad been stripped away, not since Mika’s
Maybe it wasn’t magic that made them see me that way.
Maybe it was simply that I had stood with them. Fought with them. Bled with them.
We didn’t stop in the courtyard. Francesco led us straight to the healing ward. He didn’t set Lira down until we reached the inner chamber, where the healers were already preparing a bed.
They swarmed her instantly, voices low but urgent. I stood back, fists clenched at my sides, forcing myself not to hover. I had done all I could. Now, I had
to trust them.
Francesco came to stand beside me. For a moment, neither of us spoke.
“You fought well,” he said finally.
It wasn’t praise. It was truth. But hearing it still made my throat tighten.
“We’re… done?” I asked. “If Luca is truly gone, the Book-”
“It’s harmless now,” he finished, his gaze flicking to where the Book sat, swaddled in heavy cloth.
Chapter 143
For the
first
time since the
fight began, I
I felt something loosen in
my thest
Rest Ellaine
Mika’s voice whispered
In my head,
soft and warm.
And then the
fatigue
hit me like a w wave.
My knees buckled.
The world tilted.
Francesco’s arms caught
me
And darkness claimed me.
before I could hit the floor.
