Chapter 14: The Secret
1676 Words
The pain lasted for hours.
Elara lost track of time. All she knew was the pain. The fire in her blood. The breaking of her bones. The feeling like she was dying.
Slowly.
Painfully.
And Kairos was there the whole time. Holding her. Whispering to her. Telling her she was going to be okay.
Even when he didn't believe it himself.
Elara could hear it in his voice. The fear. The panic. The helplessness.
He hated this. Hated seeing her in pain. Hated not being able to help.
But there was nothing he could do.
Nothing either of them could do.
Except wait.
And hope.
And eventually, the pain faded.
Slowly.
Painfully slowly.
Until it was just a dull ache. A reminder.
Elara collapsed against Kairos, exhausted. Her body was soaked with sweat. Her clothes were sticking to her skin. She felt like she'd been hit by a truck.
But she was alive.
Barely.
"Elara?" Kairos's voice was soft, scared. "Are you... are you okay?"
Elara nodded, weak. "I think so. It's... it's better now."
Kairos pulled back to look at her. His golden eyes were dark with worry. His face was pale.
"What was that?" he asked, quiet. "What happened to you?"
Elara hesitated.
She didn't want to tell him. Didn't want to scare him. Didn't want him to push her away.
But she had to.
He deserved to know.
"I think..." She took a deep breath. "I think it's the curse."
Kairos froze. His eyes widened.
"The curse?" he said, his voice barely a whisper. "But that's impossible. The curse is mine. It doesn't spread. It can't—"
"Can't it?" Elara looked at him, her silver eyes serious. "Kairos, we don't know that. We don't know anything about the curse. Not really. What if... what if it's contagious? What if being your mate... being close to you... it's spreading to me?"
Kairos shook his head. "No. That's not possible. The other mates... they died, but they didn't have the curse. They just... died. Suddenly. Without warning."
"Maybe that's how it starts." Elara's voice got quieter. "Maybe the curse spreads first. Slowly. And then... then it kills you."
Kairos went pale.
He looked like he was going to be sick.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, that can't be right. I won't let it be right."
He stood up, pacing the room, running his hands through his hair. He looked... lost. Scared.
Like his worst nightmare was coming true.
"This is my fault," he said, his voice tight with guilt. "All of this. If I hadn't brought you here. If I hadn't let you get close—"
"Kairos, stop." Elara stood up too, grabbing his arm. "This is not your fault. Okay? None of this is your fault. The curse isn't your fault. Valerius isn't your fault. And whatever is happening to me... it's not your fault either."
"But it is!" Kairos turned on her, his voice sharp with anger and pain. "I'm the one who's cursed. I'm the one who kills everyone who gets close to me. And now you're... you're..."
He couldn't finish the sentence.
But Elara knew what he was going to say.
Dying.
She was dying.
And it was his fault.
At least, that's what he thought.
"Kairos..." Elara said, soft.
"No." He stepped back, putting distance between them. His jaw was tight. His eyes were cold. "You have to leave."
Elara blinked. "What?"
"You have to leave Vossgaard. Go back to Seattle. Go somewhere far away from me. From the curse. From all of it."
"Kairos, no—"
"It's the only way, Elara." His voice was hard, but his eyes were sad. "If you stay, the curse will kill you. I know it will. And I can't... I can't go through that again. I can't lose you too."
Elara stared at him.
He was pushing her away.
Just like she knew he would.
Because he was scared.
Because he cared.
And it was equal parts sweet and infuriating.
"No," she said, firm.
"Elara—"
"I said no." She stepped toward him, her chin held high. "I'm not leaving. Not now. Not ever. You don't get to decide what's best for me. You don't get to push me away because you're scared."
"I'm trying to save your life!"
"And I'm trying to save us!" Elara's voice rose. "Don't you get it, Kairos? I'm not going anywhere. Not without you. Not when we're so close. Not when we could actually have something real."
"But the curse—"
"Is just a curse." She stepped closer, tilting her head back to look at him. "And I'm the Blessed Healer. I break curses. It's kind of my thing."
Kairos stared at her. His golden eyes were dark with conflict. With fear. With want.
"Elara..." he said, quiet. "You don't understand. If you die—"
"I'm not going to die." She touched his face, her fingers brushing his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you. We're going to figure this out. Together. Like we always do."
Kairos closed his eyes. He leaned into her touch, like he was starved for it. Like he'd been waiting for this his whole life.
"I don't want to lose you," he whispered.
"You won't." She kissed him. Soft. Gentle. "I promise."
But Elara was lying.
At least, she wasn't sure she was telling the truth.
Because she didn't know if she could keep that promise.
She didn't know if she could beat the curse.
She didn't know if she was going to live or die.
But she knew one thing.
She wasn't going to run.
Not from the curse.
Not from Kairos.
Not from her destiny.
She was going to fight.
And she was going to win.
Or die trying.
* * *
They spent the rest of the night in each other's arms.
Kairos held her like he was afraid she'd disappear. Like if he let go, she'd be gone forever.
Elara let him.
She needed this too.
The comfort. The warmth. The feeling of being loved.
Even if it was just for one night.
Even if it wouldn't last.
The next morning, Elara woke up early.
The pain was gone. Completely. Like it had never happened.
She felt... normal. Fine. Good, even.
Like last night had just been a bad dream.
But it hadn't been a dream.
It had been real.
And it was going to happen again.
Elara knew it.
She just didn't know when.
Or how bad it would be next time.
She slipped out of Kairos's arms, careful not to wake him. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. So young. So... not like a three-hundred-year-old cursed king.
Just a man.
Sleeping.
Dreaming.
Elara smiled, small.
She leaned down and kissed his forehead. Soft. Gentle.
And then she got dressed and left the room.
She had to find out what was happening to her.
And she knew just who to ask.
* * *
The Temple of the Moon Goddess was at the far end of the palace grounds.
It was beautiful. White marble. Silver columns. Moon fire burning in braziers along the path.
Elara had never been there before. But she'd heard stories.
The High Priestess lived there. The oldest, most powerful wolf in the kingdom. She knew everything about the curse. About the prophecy. About the Blessed Healer.
If anyone could help Elara, it was her.
Elara walked up the steps and into the temple.
It was quiet inside. Peaceful. The air smelled like lavender and moon flowers. Silver light filtered through stained glass windows, painting patterns on the floor.
At the far end, in front of a giant statue of the Moon Goddess, stood a woman.
She was old—very old—with silver hair and silver eyes and a face lined with centuries of wisdom. She was wearing white robes, and she was praying.
The High Priestess.
Elara's breath caught.
She'd never seen anyone with silver eyes before.
Not except... herself.
Interesting.
The High Priestess turned around, like she'd heard Elara come in. She smiled, warm and knowing.
"Elara Thorne," she said, her voice soft and strong at the same time. "I've been waiting for you."
Elara blinked. "You... you know who I am?"
"Of course." The High Priestess walked toward her, her robes flowing. "The Moon Goddess told me you'd come. Eventually."
"She did?"
"Mmhmm." The High Priestess stopped in front of her, looking her up and down with those silver eyes. "You're just like I imagined. Strong. Stubborn. Brave. And very, very scared."
Elara's face burned. "I'm not scared."
"Aren't you?" The High Priestess raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you here? Why come to the temple at dawn, when no one else is awake? Why sneak away from your king without telling him where you're going?"
Elara hesitated. She'd thought she'd been so careful. So quiet.
But the High Priestess knew everything.
Of course she did.
"I'm here because... because something's happening to me," Elara said finally, quiet. "Something wrong. And I was hoping you could help me."
The High Priestess nodded, like she already knew.
"The curse," she said.
Elara's eyes widened. "You know?"
"I know everything, child." The High Priestess smiled, sad. "And I'm sorry. So very sorry."
"Sorry? For what?"
"For what's coming. For what you have to do. For the choice you have to make."
Elara's stomach dropped.
"What choice?" she asked, quiet.
The High Priestess didn't answer. Not directly.
Instead, she said, "Come. Walk with me. There's much we need to talk about. Much you need to know. About the curse. About the prophecy. About... your mother."
Elara froze.
"My mother?" she said, her voice barely a whisper. "What about my mother? She's dead. She died when I was a baby."
The High Priestess smiled. It was a sad smile. A knowing smile.
"Is she?" she said.
And Elara's world shattered.
Because she knew.
She knew what the High Priestess was going to say.
And nothing would ever be the same again.
- Writer
