Chapter 125

Dante’s POV

I didn’t sleep a wink. Every time I shut my eyes, there she was... Elora, all ghostly and shaking, crying so hard her face was a mess. That sound she made, begging us not to force her choice? It just about gutted me.

I just lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. The whole pack house was dead quiet, but nobody was actually sleeping. We were all just pretending this wasn’t happening.

In the middle of the night, I heard footsteps outside my door. Soft. Hesitant. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was Dominic. He stopped right outside, just standing there. No knock, no words, just... waiting. Like maybe I’d say something. I didn’t. I knew where he was going. To her, obviously.

So I kept quiet, faked sleep, even though my heart was hammering so loud it probably echoed. Waited until his footsteps faded away toward the east wing.

Elora’s room.

I still didn’t move. Wasn’t about to go after him like some pathetic loser. The thought of her waking up and seeing both of us standing there wasn't a good sight. So I just lay there, wide awake, counting down the hours until the sun came up.

By morning, I felt like I was exhausted that I could barely stand up from my bed.

I slipped out just as the sun was setting. The hallways were freezing and dead quiet.

When I got to Elora’s door, the guards gave me that sympathetic look, but were silent. Didn’t need their permission anyway. I’d fought beside her before she ever wore that Luna title. I had a right to care.

I eased the door open. It creaked, of course. Because why wouldn’t it?

Inside, it was almost dark. Curtains closed, air thick with lavender and whatever else Nira brewed up. Elora was lying there, barely moving. Even asleep, she looked like she was fighting for her life.

I just stood, staring. Couldn’t make myself move. She looked so small, and for a second, I wanted nothing more than to sit by her, just hold her hand, hell, do anything. But this was Dominic’s wife. His space. I didn’t belong here.

So I forced myself to step back, jaw clenched, trying not to let it show. I could still feel that bond between us. She was fighting something, and whatever it was, it was winning.

Then the door creaked behind me. I turned, and it was Dominic. We just stared at each other, both too stubborn to break the silence.

“Any change?” I said, finally breaking the silence.

He barely moved. “No. She barely even moved last night.”

I blew out a breath, tried not to snap. “The healers said exhaustion. This isn’t exhaustion.” I gestured at her, frustrated.

Dominic just stared at her, hands twitching like he wanted to touch her but didn’t dare.

Then Nira walked in, looking even more serious than usual, arms full of herbs and trinkets. She went straight to Elora, barely glancing our way.

“Temperature’s dropping again,” she muttered, checking Elora’s forehead. “Fever root’s done nothing.”

“Then what is it?” I said, my voice sounded rough. “Why isn’t she getting better?”

Nira frowned, eyes moving between us. “She’s being drained. Not sick, not poisoned. It’s something else.”

Dominic’s head snapped toward her. “What do you mean, something else?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. “It’s... a force. A link. Feels dark, old. When I try to help, it just yanks the energy away.”

I stepped closer. “Magic?”

She shook her head, almost whispering. “More like a bond. Something she didn’t choose.”

My stomach dropped. “Mira.” I blurted it before I could stop myself. Dominic shot me a sharp look.

Nira pressed on, voice grim. “Whatever it is, it’s ancient. It’s hooked into her life force. If we don’t break it soon...” She trailed off.

I clenched my fists, anger coming through. “Then we break it.”

“It’s not that simple,” she said. “If you break it in the wrong way, you’ll kill her. Her energy’s all tangled up with it now. Tug the wrong piece and the whole thing falls apart.”

I took a step back, heart racing. “There’s got to be another way.”

Dominic moved over to Elora’s bed, tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. “We’ll find one,” he muttered.

Later, when Nira walked out of the room, I trailed after her. “Just tell me the truth,” I said. “You’ve seen this before, right?”

She paused, shot a look over her shoulder. “Once. A soul-bound witch did it. Tied her own life to someone else’s so she could bleed them dry, slow as rot.”

Chills ran down my spine. “And who’s got juice like that these days?”

She didn’t say. Didn’t need to. Both of us were thinking the same name.

Mira.

Dead, supposedly. But if she’d left something nasty behind, some curse, some thread tying her to Elora... hell, it added up. The timing. The way Elora faded every night, like something was clawing at her from the dark.

Back in the room, Dominic hadn’t moved. Still glued to Elora’s side.

“She’s getting weaker,” I said.

He nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

I leaned against the wall, folding my arms. “You blame me for this, don’t you?”

He glanced up. “I think you’re desperate to blame someone. Even a ghost.”

“She’s not a ghost,” I said.

“You remember what happened the last time a witch tried to get inside Elora’s head. This isn’t some fever, Dominic. This is magic.”

He shot back, voice sharp as glass, “And yet your magic hasn’t done squat for her.”

That landed. Hard.

I didn’t answer. What was there to say? He wasn’t wrong. I’d thrown everything I knew at these wards, sigils, spirit herbs, and she was still slipping away, inch by inch.

Time crawled. The healer came back, arms full of glowing vials, muttering prayers, but Elora didn’t even twitch. Her breaths were thin, barely-there.

At one point her fingers jerked, and both of us jumped, me with my sword arm, Dominic with the kind of panic only a husband has. Didn’t matter. She never woke up.

Nira got up from the bed in the end, looking scared. “It’s moving faster,” she said. “Whatever’s feeding on her, it’s not slowing down.”

I stepped up. “So what’s left? What do we do?”

She hesitated, glancing back and forth, like she was weighing whether to say it or not. Then she finally said it.

“There’s only one thing that can stop it.”

Dominic’s voice was hasty. “Say it.”

Nira took a breath, steeling herself. “True love’s mark.”

I squinted at her. “You’re joking. That’s just a fairy tale.”

She shook her head. “It’s real. If the bond was made by corruption, only love... real, no-strings love can break it. A soul mark. Has to be freely given, no tricks, no blood ties. Just... chosen love.”

I blinked, trying to process. “You mean like a mate mark?”

“No. Deeper than that. Not about animal instinct. It’s got to be love, pure and simple. Has to be a choice. Only then can it burn out the darkness.”

Dominic’s jaw locked up tight. “And if no one can give it?”