Chapter 40: The Forbidden Pact

The sun hadn't even touched the horizon when I left our bed. Killian was still trapped in a feverish sleep, his skin gray against the black silk sheets. The shadow-mark on his chest was silent now, but it looked like a thirsty parasite that had just finished a meal.

I couldn't watch him die by inches. Not for a prophecy, and not for a power he shouldn't have to carry alone.

I slipped on a cloak and walked out into the misty gardens. I didn't head for the Archives. I headed for the edge of the forest, where the sulfur smell of the green smoke still lingered.

"I know you're still here," I said to the shadows. "Come out."

The wind swirled, and the hawk with the glowing green eyes descended from a gnarled oak tree. It shifted, its feathers melting into a tattered green robe. A woman stood there—or at least, something that looked like a woman. Her skin was the color of moss, and her eyes were empty emerald pits.

"The Queen mother returns," she hissed. "Has the King’s heart finally faltered?"

"I want a deal," I said, my voice cold. I didn't have Killian’s Alpha aura, but I had a mother's desperation, which was far more dangerous.

"A deal?" The witch laughed, a sound like glass breaking. "We don't do charity, Elena Vance. Everything has a price. Especially the life of a Royal Anchor."

"Tell me how to stop the drain," I demanded. "How do I stabilize Nyx's power so it doesn't kill him?"

The witch stepped closer, her scent of rot filling my lungs. She reached out a clawed finger, tracing the line of my jaw.

"The power cannot be stopped," she whispered. "It can only be redirected. Killian is the Anchor because he is a wolf. His soul provides the fuel. If you want to save his soul, you must provide a different kind of battery."

"Me," I said without hesitation. "Take it from me."

"You?" The witch sneered. "You are human-blooded, Elena. You have no wolf spirit to burn. You would be ash in seconds."

She paused, her green eyes shimmering with a sudden, cruel intelligence.

"But... you have something else. Something the Coven has been seeking for centuries. You have the Blood of the First Vessel."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means your lineage isn't as 'human' as your father led you to believe," the witch cackled. "Why do you think a Royal King was so drawn to a 'nobody' like you? You were born to hold the storm."

She held out a small, jagged obsidian dagger.

"The deal is this: I will give you a seal. A blood-binding that will shift half the weight of the Anchor from Killian to you. He will live. He will recover his strength."

"And the catch?"

"The seal will bind your life to the Coven," she whispered. "When the girl turns sixteen—when she is ready to take her throne—you will be our key to open the gates of the Abyss. You will be our servant in the shadows. Forever."

I looked back at the palace, where my husband lay dying and my children lay sleeping.

If I refused, Killian would be gone in a year. Nyx would grow up with a father's ghost and a power that would eventually consume her.

If I accepted, I was selling my soul to a cult of monsters.

"Give me the dagger," I said.

The witch grinned, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth.

I took the blade and sliced a deep line across my left palm. As the red blood welled up, the witch began to chant in a language that sounded like a thousand snakes hissing at once.

The blood didn't fall to the ground. It rose into the air, turning black, and formed a complex, glowing rune.

SLAM.

The rune hit my chest, right over my heart.

It felt like liquid fire was being poured into my veins. I fell to my knees, gasping, my vision turning violet then black.

In that same instant, miles away in the palace, I heard a sound.

A roar.

Not of pain, but of release.

I felt the connection snap into place. Suddenly, I could feel Nyx. I could feel her dark, bottomless hunger. It was heavy. It was terrifying. But as I took the weight, I felt the phantom pressure on Killian’s soul lift.

"The pact is sealed," the witch’s voice faded as she shifted back into the hawk. "Sleep well, servant of the Pale Moon. We will come for you when the moon turns red."

I stumbled back to the palace, hiding my bandaged hand under my cloak.

When I reached the bedroom, Killian was sitting up. The color had returned to his face. The shadow-mark on his chest had shrunk to a faint, silver scar.

"Elena!" He rushed to me, picking me up and spinning me around. "It's a miracle! I woke up and the pain... it’s just gone. I feel like I could tear a mountain apart."

He kissed me, fierce and full of life, oblivious to the fact that his wife’s skin was now as cold as the frost on the windows.

"I told you," I whispered, forced a smile as the black rune beneath my dress throbbed with a cold, rhythmic warning. "You’re the King. You’re too stubborn to die."

He laughed, holding me tight, but as he did, Nyx started crying in the next room.

Not a normal cry. A dark, knowing wail.

She knew. The five-year-old monster knew exactly what her mother had done.

The war wasn't over. I had just bought us time. And the price was my eternity.