Chapter Seventy-seven

Maryelle’s POV

The healer’s hands were steady as he placed the small glass vial in Phantom’s palm. The liquid inside shimmered faintly, a mixture of herbs and roots ground into something that smelled sharp, earthy, and bitter. Phantom’s jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the vial as though it were salvation itself.

“This will block the dreams,” the healer said. “Taken nightly, it should sever her connection to whatever spirit is invading her sleep.”

Phantom nodded, his grip tightening around the vial. “She won’t suffer anymore.”

Later, when he pressed it into my hands, his voice was soft but commanding. “Drink this every night. It will protect you. No more nightmares.”

I smiled faintly, fingers curling around the vial, but I never opened it. Because Lucian had already stopped coming. The dreams had gone quiet, leaving me hollow but relieved. Phantom didn’t need to know that. He needed hope, and I needed him to believe I was healing.

So a few days later I told him it worked. “I feel lighter. I feel like myself again.”

I may not have drunk the potion, but the part about feeling like myself again was true.

Weeks passed since Lucian invaded my dreams, and the distance between Phantom and me began to close. His eyes softened when they met mine, his touch lingered longer, his laughter returned. He looked at me as though I was whole again, as though the shadows had finally released me.

I wanted to believe it too. But a part of me knew I hadn’t seen the last of Lucian.

One evening, Phantom came to me with a look I hadn’t seen in months—determined, resolute, almost electric. “Maryelle,” he said, his voice low, steady. “The specialist confirmed it in an email. They can restore your coyote spirit. And they can suppress the Intercrossed indefinitely.”

My breath caught. Restore me? Suppress the part of me that I had started to feel was becoming a part of me? I wanted to ask if there was a way to keep both—the Intercrossed and my coyote spirit. To reconcile the two halves instead of erasing one.

Before I could speak, he stepped closer, his hand closing around mine. “I’m ready to make this official. No more waiting. No more doubts.”

Fear paralyzed me. The thought of starting a new chapter based on lies wasn’t something I could go on with. The words tumbled out of me before I could stop them. “I was having dreams of Lucian. The dreams and what I did in them felt so real, Phantom. I betrayed you—I did things with him. I’m so sorry. I’ll understand if you don’t want me anymore.”

His eyes blazed, his grip tightening. “Dreams aren’t enough for me to throw away what we have, Maryelle. You really don’t understand how deeply in love I am with you, do you? Do I need to tell you how I feel every ten seconds to remind you?”

“But I—”

“Let’s go,” he demanded, cutting me off, not letting me speak another syllable. His urgency was palpable, his energy almost overwhelming.

We walked outside, and I locked the door to my family’s home behind me. “The anticipation’s driving me nuts. Please walk faster.”

“These are heels, Phantom,” I muttered. “They’re not made for speed‑walking.”

He stopped mid‑stride, turned, and without hesitation scooped me up caveman‑style and smacked my bottom. My face flushed crimson as the world spun around us, his pace so fast the outdoors blurred.

When he stopped in front of the town car, Alfie was already waiting, bowing as he opened the door. Phantom placed me inside, strapped me in, and slid in beside me. He knocked on the roof, signaling Alfie to drive.

“Would you tell me where we’re going if I asked nicely?” I teased, trying to mask my nerves.

He smirked, eyes gleaming. “It’s a surprise. And we both know how much you love those.”

A mixture of a grumble and harrumph slipped past my lips, and he chuckled low. “Princess?”

“Yes?”

“Promise me you’ll keep an open mind after you hear everything?”

I hesitated, then sighed. “Can’t make any promises, Phan… but I’ll try.”

He nodded, satisfied. “Fair enough.”

The car pulled up to a five‑story house. A heavily built man with grayish‑blond hair, dressed in royal guard attire, nodded deferentially as a golden gate slid open.

My eyes widened as the property came into view. Though the renovations made it resemble his castle in Rome, this home was more compact, more intimate. A Spanish‑style lakefront Mediterranean mansion sat on five acres, encircled by palm trees, its reflection shimmering across the water. Two werecoyote guards stood at the double French doors, their presence commanding.

I glanced up at Phantom. “Did you decide on buying the property? I love the renovations.”

He sucked in a nervous breath. “It’s an investment,” he finally said, opening my door. He held my hand as I stepped out, then pulled me against his chest.

“This is just in case you say no.” His lips crashed against mine, passionate, consuming, distracting me from coherent thought.

I drank in his kisses, almost missing the large crowd spilling out of the mansion. Confusion surged, but before I could ask, Phantom dropped to one knee.

My gasp stole the air from my lungs. The world tilted, my heart thundered, and every doubt I’d carried dissolved into shock.

The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices rising like a tide around us. My pulse raced, my mind spinning as Phantom reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. He opened it, revealing a ring that caught the light like fire, its brilliance almost blinding.

“Maryelle,” he said, his voice carrying over the noise, steady and unshakable. “I’ve waited long enough. I don’t care about the dreams, the whispers, the doubts, or the opposers. I care about you. I want you as my mate, my partner, my queen. Say yes, and let’s end this waiting.”

Tears stung my eyes. The weight of everything—the dreams, the guilt, the fear—pressed against me, but so did the undeniable truth of Phantom’s devotion. He wasn’t asking me to forget the past. He was asking me to choose him, here and now.

I opened my mouth, but no words came. My heart was a storm, torn between the memory of Lucian’s voice in my dreams and the reality of Phantom kneeling before me.

Phantom’s gaze never wavered. His hand trembled slightly, but his eyes were fierce, unwavering. “Say yes, Maryelle. Let me prove to you every day that I’m yours, that you’re safe, that you’re loved.”

The crowd hushed, waiting. My chest rose and fell, breath shallow, as the world seemed to hold itself still.

And in that moment, I realized the truth: no matter how tangled my dreams had been, no matter how much Lucian haunted me, Phantom was the one standing here, flesh and blood, heart and soul. He was the one I was with. Destroying that based on a “what if” seemed childish and insane. But why were thoughts of Lucian infiltrating my mind? I shook my head, shoving anything that would cause me to sabotage this moment.

I exhaled, shaky but resolute. “Yes.”

The word broke the silence like a spark. The crowd roared, Phantom surged to his feet, and his arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground as he spun me in a dizzying circle. His laughter rang out, raw and unrestrained, and for the first time in weeks, I felt the shadows recede.

The ring slid onto my finger, cool and heavy, a promise etched in gold. Phantom pressed his forehead to mine, his voice trembling with emotion. “You won’t regret this. I swear it.”

I clung to him, my heart pounding, knowing the road ahead would not be easy. But for now, in this moment, I let myself believe in the light he offered.