A SOUL OF PERIL
1232 Words
Zevaris froze, chest heaving as though the very air resisted him. The face beneath the leaves was all too familiar—the woman who haunted his every waking thought, whose presence stirred a part of him he would never admit aloud.
“Oh, goodness… it’s Selene,” Simba exclaimed, voice echoing against the forest’s quiet path.
“Help me lift her,” Zevaris commanded, urgency sharp in his tone. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted her limp form, the coldness of her skin sending a shiver through him.
Together they hoisted her, Zevaris bearing most of her weight, pressing her protectively against his chest. His strides were long, driven by raw desperation, carrying her swiftly toward the Palace.
At the gates, the guards recognized him instantly. Zevaris’ urgency left no question; they swung open the heavy doors without hesitation.
Inside, the marble floors gleamed in torchlight, walls towering in intimidating grandeur. From above, Kaelen watched, arms folded, nails digging into her palms, a scowl etched across her face. Rage flickered in her eyes as she observed the unconscious girl in Zevaris’ arms.
The sight was unbearable.
“The Alpha calls for you at once,” a guard announced.
Kaelen tilted her chin. Descended from a lineage of ancient healers, she carried a certainty few could rival. She already knew why Zevaris had summoned her—and a smirk curved her lips. The perfect opportunity had arrived.
“Tell him I’ll be there soon,” she said coldly. “I must finish first.”
She turned away, deliberately delaying her steps.
Downstairs, Zevaris’ expression betrayed something unseen by the court. Usually merciless, unshaken, he now looked… human. Fear clouded his eyes, jaw clenched in panic.
“Where is Kaelen?” he thundered. His fist slammed against the wall, each strike resounding like thunder through the Palace.
Simba hurried off. When he returned, Kaelen followed, gown whispering across the marble. She lingered at the doorway, peering at Selene on the bed. Zevaris hovered like a man in prayer—a sight that ignited something dark within Kaelen.
Her nails curled into her palms, breaking the skin. How could he look at Selene like that? How could he choose her over me?
Selene, powerless, unremarkable to all but Zevaris. Kaelen had every quality of a mate, yet none mattered to him.
Zevaris’ voice cut through her thoughts. “What are you doing out there? Come in and help before we lose her!”
Kaelen entered slowly, masking fury with cold composure. “I was busy. No one said why you needed me urgently.”
“Well, now you know,” Zevaris snapped. “Help her.”
“You must leave,” Kaelen said stiffly.
“Why?”
“I won’t be comfortable if others are here.”
“You’ll manage. I’m not leaving her side,” Zevaris shot back.
Her chest tightened; anger pulsed through her.
“It’s medical ethics,” she said firmly. “Rules are rules.”
“I am the Alpha. I make the rules. I don’t abide by them,” he growled, towering over her, aura suffocating. Kaelen pressed back against the wall, trembling, eyes fixed on the floor.
“You’d better treat her,” he warned. “And save her. Or else.”
Kaelen bent to Selene, checking her pulse, muttering spiteful words under her breath. Relief flickered as Selene’s heartbeat proved steady—but it was immediately smothered by malice.
“Why didn’t you just die?” Kaelen whispered. “Why won’t you let me have him? You’re a wretched thorn.”
“How is she?” Zevaris asked.
Kaelen’s lips curved into a false frown. “She’s getting worse,” she lied. “The cold has weakened her.”
Zevaris’ heart dropped. “Then what do we do? There must be something. I’ll save her at all costs.”
Kaelen’s anger deepened. “If only I could strangle her right now,” she muttered.
“Kaelen!” he barked, snapping his fingers.
She blinked, forcing a calm smile. “There is something… but it’s dangerous.”
“What is it?”
“The Tree of Life,” she said slowly. “Leaves mixed with water from the Blue Sea of Life. Together, they can free her soul. You found her in the Forest of Deceit, yes? That forest traps the soul, tortures it with betrayal. That’s why she’s like this.”
Zevaris clenched his fists. “Impossible. The Tree of Life is in Moon Claw territory. They’d kill me before I reach it.”
“That’s all I can tell you,” Kaelen said with a shrug, hiding her smirk. She knew his pride—he would never bow before his enemies.
Selene shifted slightly, fingers twitching. Zevaris’ eyes softened; his body leaned toward her, instinct protective and urgent.
“How can we get it?” he asked gently, voice unusual, vulnerable.
Kaelen blinked. “You… risk your life for her?”
“Yes. What do we use to get it?” Zevaris pressed.
“Getting there isn’t the problem,” she muttered. “The real challenge is taking the leaves from within.”
“We’ll manage,” he said firmly.
Outside, Simba stood alert, posture sharp, ready. Blood and pride ran deep in their lineage. Loyalty had never wavered.
Zevaris stepped out. “Simba, we go to Moon Claw Pack. Security is tight, but it’s the only way to save Selene.”
“Selene?” Simba echoed.
“Yes. Kaelen says her soul is trapped.”
“When do we leave?” Simba asked.
“By evening. Now is too dangerous.”
The rivalry between Packs was deep, steeped in blood and betrayal. Strangers rarely returned from Moon Claw.
“We go in secret. No one must know,” Zevaris ordered.
“Yes, Alpha,” Simba replied.
Kaelen sat with Selene, thoughts dark. “If they succeed… if she survives… I’ll be nothing again. She always takes what should be mine…”
Downstairs, Priest Ally awaited Zevaris, expression grave.
“Alpha, forgive my intrusion. It’s urgent,” he said.
Kaelen strained to hear. “It’s about the red moon,” Priest Ally continued. “After it appears, a ritual must be performed. The bond-breaking ritual happened here. If uncorrected, the Moon Spirit’s wrath will descend. Not even you are safe.”
Zevaris’ eyes hardened. “Are you threatening my Pack?”
“I am warning you. Silence could destroy all.”
“Do as you will,” Zevaris said, brushing him off.
A crash echoed—a golden jar toppled, exposing Kaelen at the door.
“And what, Kaelen, were you doing hiding there?” Zevaris’ eyes narrowed.
“Nothing. I was leaving,” she said, sweeping away.
By evening, the Palace was thick with smoke from the Priest’s ritual, carrying the sharp scent of burning sunflowers. The air grew heavy.
Cloaked, Zevaris and Simba slipped into the night.
“What is this?” Zevaris coughed through the haze.
“The ritual,” Simba answered.
The borders of Moon Claw loomed. From a distance, the Tree of Life glimmered, its enormous branches luminous and strange. Mesmerizing—but deadly to reach.
A chilling voice rang behind him.
“What are you doing here?”
The cold barrel of a gun pressed against his head.
Fear gripped him instantly.
And that was the last voice he heard.
- Writer
