Chapter 6
1290 Words
-SELENE-
A block of ice slammed into my chest, and suddenly, the air in the room wasn’t enough.
"Lohe!" I cried, dropping to my knees beside his crumpled body.
His limbs were twisted unnaturally, his face turned to the side. He was unconscious, but breathing. Barely.
My hands flew to his face, brushing strands of hair from his forehead. His skin was clammy and ghostly pale.
"Wake up," I whispered, voice cracking with desperation.
I shook his shoulders gently. Nothing. No movement. Just that faint, fragile breath.
Why wasn’t he moving? Why the hell wasn’t he moving?
Was it the chalice? That cursed relic? f*****g thing. When will we be free of its magic?
I pressed my palm to his cheek, forcing my hand to glow, willing healing into him.
A flicker sparked. Lohe groaned softly. But that was it.
My powers were spent.
No, no, no! Not now. Not when I needed them most.
I could feel the panic rising, sharp and bitter, squeezing my lungs. I tried again, pushing harder, reaching deeper. Nothing. Just emptiness.
I was never the healer my mother was. She was a Titan wolf, revered and unstoppable. Mine had always been a whisper compared to her roar. Child’s play. A flicker in her shadow.
But ever since I met Lohe, everything had changed. My magic had grown stronger, wilder. It pulsed with purpose, like it had finally found its reason to exist.
And now... it was gone.
When Rasmus’s silver baton blocked my wolf from surfacing, maybe it blocked my healing, too. Or perhaps it was the crossing. I didn’t know. I couldn’t think.
All I knew was that Lohe was slipping away, and I was powerless to stop it.
"What did you do to my son? Get away from him, little witch!"
Of course. The ice queen. Always ready to spit venom from across the room.
"I didn’t do anything! He collapsed on his own. I’m trying to help!"
"We saw your hand pulsing with magic. What did you do before you shoved him? Was it because he didn’t believe your fake mate story?" She lifted her perfect chin toward Rasmus. "Guards! Take her away!"
This time, Rasmus’s guards didn’t wait for the king’s nod. They tore me from the floor and pinned my arms behind my back.
"You’re making a mistake!" I locked eyes with Mart, my voice breaking. "Please, your majesty. I didn’t cast any spell. I’m not a sorcerer. He’s my fated mate. Something’s wrong with him- he needs help!”
Mart’s gaze flicked between me and Lohe’s limp body. He hesitated, then barked:
"What are you waiting for? Get a healer! He’s your future king, for f**k’s sake!"
In the next second, Rasmus bolted from the room with two guards.
The tension was suffocating until he returned. A middle-aged bald man in a cream tunic tailed him behind, clutching a black doctor’s bag like it might bite him.
Mart ordered the guards to lift Lohe onto a velvet ottoman by the wall. The sun had risen, bleeding orange across the floor like a wound. The healer knelt beside him and started to work.
I was relieved to see actual medical instruments in his bag. For a moment, I’d feared leeches or some voodoo nonsense. This place felt like the damn Middle Ages sometimes, with all the witch hunts.
He used an old type of stethoscope, checked Lohe’s mouth, took his temperature, the standard stuff. Then he uncorked a pungent vial and waved it under Lohe’s nose.
Nothing.
"He’s not waking. Seems to be under a cold fever." the healer muttered, lifting Lohe’s eyelids.
"Cold fever?" I echoed.
"P-lease," the ice queen scoffed, nearly rolling her eyes. "Drop the act. You know exactly what that is."
I ignored her and turned to the healer. "What’s that?"
He placed a tablet under Lohe’s tongue before answering.
"It’s common in dragon shifters. Their blood runs hotter than ours. When something hits them hard, their temperature drops to conserve energy. It’s a survival mechanism. But if it drops too low—or doesn’t rise again soon—it can be fatal."
Panic clawed at my throat with long, sharp nails. "Oh Goddess… What do we do?"
The healer stood, lips tight. "I can administer the usual drugs to make his temperature rise, and let him rest. But without knowing the cause, it’s a shot in the dark. His body could crash again."
I was breathing hard, my pulse running wildly. I needed to help my mate, but I had no idea how.
"Any idea what caused it, Ravit?" Mart asked, standing next to Lohe, brows furrowed.
The king seemed troubled, even if he maintained his regal facade. He clearly loved his brother.
Ravit grimaced, his head nodding. "Magic. I don’t know what kind, but it’s definitely magic."
The ice queen’s perfect lips curled into a cruel smile. She let out a soft huff.
Behind her, her ladies squirmed anxiously.
She took a couple of small and elegant steps, her silky dress swaying with grace. She paused a few feet away from me.
"Oh, little witch. I'll make you pay for what you did to my eldest son. I’ll watch your dark blood stain the floor. Then I’ll have supper, knowing justice was served."
I struggled against the guards. Their grip tightened.
They were surprisingly strong for humans. Even if my wolf hadn’t been blocked, I doubted I could’ve broken free. Their hands were like iron clamps, locking me in place with practiced ease.
It was infuriating. I was a healer, not a threat. And yet here I was. Restrained like a criminal, treated like a monster.
"You’re insane! How many times do I have to say it? I. Am. Not. A. Witch!" I shouted, glaring at her as she twirled a large diamond ring on her perfectly manicured fingers.
Her son lay dying, and she was sharpening knives for me. What kind of mother does that?
That kind, apparently.
"If it wasn’t you, Selene, then what?" Mart asked. He seemed to be the only one in the room who was remotely sane.
Well, sane enough, considering he passed a law sentencing witches to death on sight.
Note to self: discover what makes these people so afraid of witchcraft.
"My guess? The chalice. Its power’s been unstable since it was cursed. After we broke it, we thought it was safe to use it as a portal again, but clearly, we were wrong. It affected Lohe. Not only his mind, but also his body.”
"But you can’t prove it," Mart said flatly, his forehead frowning. The same expression I had seen in his brother’s face countless times when he was deep in thought.
"I wish I could. But you’ll have to take my word."
Mart’s jaw clenched as his light brown eyes studied me. How could he share those eyes with his mother? His held compassion. Hers were void of anything human.
Maybe they sparkled when puppies were slaughtered.
"I’ll send a message to the priestesses in the south," he offered. "One of them can come here and verify your story."
So there was someone who could confirm the truth, and no one thought to mention that until now? Brilliant.
But it was finally a chance to prove I wasn’t the villain in this twisted fairytale. Relief flooded me.
"I am telling the truth, your majesty. About everything. Can I stay by my mate's side until then?”
Mart shook his head. "I’m sorry. Until the trial ends, you must stay away from Lohe."
Away? But my presence could help him heal faster!
Then he turned to Rasmus:
"General. Send for the priestesses. And take her to the dungeons. She is your prisoner now."
- Writer
