Chapter 24: The Whispering Woods

The paved road ended miles ago. We left the armored SUV at the edge of a treeline that looked like it had been sketched in charcoal and ash.

The Whispering Woods didn't look like a forest. It looked like a graveyard of nature. The trees were twisted, black, and leafless, clawing at the grey sky. And the mist... the mist was alive. It curled around the trunks like white snakes, thick and impenetrable.

"Remember the rules," Killian said, checking the ammo in his gun, though we both knew bullets were useless here. "Don't let go of my hand. Don't believe what you hear. And don't answer the whispers."

He laced his fingers through mine, his grip tight enough to bruise.

"Ready?" he asked, looking down at me.

"No," I admitted. "But let's go."

We stepped into the mist.

Instantly, the sound of the world vanished. No wind. No birds. Just the crunch of dead leaves under our boots and the pounding of my own heart.

“Elena...”

A voice brushed against my ear. Soft. Seductive. It sounded like my mother.

I squeezed Killian’s hand tighter. He didn't react. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw locked. He must be hearing his own ghosts.

We walked for what felt like hours, though my watch had stopped ticking the moment we entered. The mist grew thicker, turning from white to a suffocating grey. I could barely see Killian’s shoulder anymore.

Suddenly, the ground beneath me gave way.

"Killian!" I screamed, stumbling into a hidden ravine.

His hand ripped from mine.

I tumbled down a short, steep slope, landing hard on a bed of moss.

"Killian!" I scrambled up, ignoring the sting in my knees. "Killian, I'm here!"

Silence.

The mist swirled around me, forming wall after wall.

"Killian?" I whispered, panic rising in my throat.

A shadow emerged from the white fog. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Powerful.

Killian walked out of the mist. He looked pristine. No dirt on his boots. No worry on his face.

"There you are," he said, his voice smooth and calm. He walked over to me, reaching out to cup my face. "I thought I lost you."

"I fell," I gasped, leaning into his touch. His hands were warm. He smelled of cedar. "The mist... it separated us."

"It doesn't matter now," he said, stroking my hair. "We are together. And look... I found the path. The Witch's hut is just ahead."

"Really?" I felt a wave of relief. "Thank Goddess. Let's go. We have to save them."

Killian didn't move. He looked down at my stomach, his expression turning solemn.

"Elena," he said softly. "I've been thinking about the prophecy. About the red eyes."

I stiffened. "What about it?"

"Maybe the Keeper was right," he said, his thumb tracing my lower lip. "We can't risk the Kingdom for one child. If one is a Demon... we have to let it go. We have to sacrifice the bad one to save the good one. It's the only logical choice."

My blood turned to ice.

Logical.

Killian was many things. Ruthless. Arrogant. Possessive.

But he wasn't logical when it came to his family. He was feral.

This was the man who threatened to burn down the world because someone sent me bad pastries. This was the man who knelt before the Council to protect both children.

I looked at his eyes. They were blue. But they were flat. Like painted glass.

I took a step back, breaking his touch.

"You're right," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "We should be smart."

"Exactly," the man smiled. "Come with me, Elena. Let's go fix this."

He held out his hand.

I looked at that hand.

Then I looked him dead in the eye.

"Killian never calls me Elena when he wants me to follow him," I whispered.

The smile on his face faltered.

"He calls me his Queen," I hissed.

I didn't take his hand. Instead, I grabbed the silver Moonstone pendant around my neck.

"And one more thing," I said, my voice rising. "He promised we would rewrite the prophecy. He would never suggest killing our son."

I ripped the pendant off my neck—it was burning hot now—and thrust it toward the imposter’s face.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

The moment the glowing blue stone touched the "Killian," he shrieked. It wasn't a human scream. It was the sound of tearing metal.

His face melted, dissolving into wisps of grey smoke. The body collapsed into nothing but mist.

I stood alone in the woods, my chest heaving, clutching the necklace.

Illusion. It was an illusion.

"Elena!"

A roar echoed from the left. A real, raw, terrified roar.

A figure burst through the fog, covered in mud, bleeding from a cut on his cheek. He looked wild. He looked frantic.

Killian. The real Killian.

He didn't ask if I was okay. He slammed into me, wrapping his arms around me so tight my ribs creaked, burying his face in my hair. He was shaking.

"I heard you scream," he choked out. "I couldn't find you. The mist... it showed me..."

He pulled back, gripping my shoulders, scanning me for injuries.

"It showed me you leaving," he admitted, his eyes dark with pain. "It showed you walking away with Liam, telling me I was a monster."

"I saw a fake you," I said, touching the blood on his cheek to make sure he was solid. "He tried to make me give up the baby."

"And?" Killian looked at me, vulnerable for the first time. "Did you believe him?"

"No," I smiled, putting the necklace back on. "Because he was too polite. And he didn't look at me the way you do."

"How do I look at you?" he rasped.

"Like you want to devour me," I whispered.

Killian let out a rough laugh, resting his forehead against mine.

"I do," he promised. "Always."

The mist around us seemed to thin, recoiling from our bond. The path ahead cleared, revealing a small, crooked hut made of bones and vines.

We had passed the test.

"Let's go," Killian said, taking my hand again, intertwining our fingers so tight nothing could separate us. "The Witch is waiting."