Chapter 5

Elara's POV

I walked back through the stone corridors of Kaelen's private quarters, the silence pressing in around me.

"Lord Kaelen?" I called out softly, stepping into the main sitting room.

There was no answer. I checked the adjoining study, but the large wooden desk was bare, and the room was empty.

"Looking for the Lord?" a soft voice asked from behind me.

I turned to see a young female servant standing in the doorway, holding a stack of clean linen.

"Where is he?" I asked, rubbing my aching forearm.

"Lord Kaelen had urgent matters to attend to in the lower ward," she replied politely. "He specifically asked that you stay in his private chamber until a proper room is arranged for you."

"Thank you," I murmured, nodding as she bowed slightly and walked away down the hall.

I retreated into his bedroom, closing the heavy oak door behind me. Sitting on the edge of the large bed, my eyes landed on a tray set neatly on the side table. It held clean bandages, salve, and a small vial of antiseptic.

Guilt twisted in my chest as I stared at the supplies. He left these for me before he walked out.

I carefully peeled back the bloody cloth from my hand, wincing as cold air touched my broken finger and open palm. Working slowly with my good hand, I cleaned the cuts, applied the salve, and wrapped my hand in fresh bandages.

Sweat and dirt coated my skin from the fight with the rogues, making my clothes stick uncomfortably to my body. I unbuttoned my dress, letting the ruined fabric drop to the floor before slipping into the adjacent stone bathroom.

The hot water washed away the blood and grime, easing the ache in my muscles. I wrapped a damp towel around my chest, grabbing my worn tunic from the rack as I stepped back into the bedroom.

The door suddenly swung open, and Kaelen stepped into the room.

"Ah!" I shrieked, clutching the damp towel against my chest as my face burned bright red. "Turn around! Get out!"

"I didn't realize you were—" Kaelen stopped abruptly, freezing in the doorway.

"Turn around right now!" I yelled, frantically grabbing my tunic and pulling it over my head with one hand while pulling my pants over my legs.

I pulled my clothes into place, my heart pounding with embarrassment. I spun around, ready to chew him out for barging into his own room without knocking, but the words completely died in my throat.

Kaelen wasn't looking at me. He collapsed on his knees beside the bed, his shoulders trembling violently.

"Kaelen?" I gasped, all anger evaporating.

His skin was pale as marble and black veins pulsed beneath the skin of his neck and jaw. Sweat ran down his temples as he clutched his chest, a low whimper escaping his throat.

"Kaelen! What's happening to you?" I dropped beside him, reaching for his shivering shoulders.

His skin was ice-cold to the touch. He groaned, his silver eyes rolling back into his head as his breathing became dangerously shallow.

"Help!" I screamed, turning toward the open doorway. "Somebody help! Guards!"

Heavy footsteps thundered down the stone corridor, and two guards burst into the room with their weapons drawn. The moment they saw Kaelen on the floor, their faces turned as white as his.

"My Lord!" the lead guard shouted, rushing over to lift Kaelen's upper body onto the bed.

"What is wrong with him?" I demanded, my hands shaking as I watched Kaelen gasp for air. "Is he poisoned?"

"It's his curse," the guard said. "When he uses his wolf form to fight, the bloodlust demands a sacrifice. If he refuses to kill to calm the hunger, the curse backfires and drains his own life force from the inside out."

"He didn't kill the rogues completely," I realized, the memory of the forest flashing in my mind. "He stopped because of me."

Kaelen let out another ragged gasp, his fingers digging into the bedsheets as the black veins spread higher toward his face.

Think, Elara, think. I forced my panicked mind through every piece of information I had ever cataloged.

Back in the Silver Ridge archives, I had spent years translating forgotten texts and ancient botanical manuscripts just to keep busy. A memory surfaced of a rare herb I’d found in a dusty, crumbling scroll about dark afflictions.

"What about Moon-Vein?" I asked suddenly, grabbing the guard's arm. "Have you tried giving him Moon-Vein extract to cool his blood?"

The guards exchanged confused glances and shook their heads. "We've never heard of any plant called Moon-Vein, miss."

"Bring me a quill and paper right now!" I commanded, my voice leaving no room for argument.

One of the guards sprinted out of the room, returning seconds later with a parchment sheet and an ink well. Using my uninjured hand, I rapidly sketched the plant's distinct features: jagged, silver-veined leaves, a dark blue stem, and small, star-shaped roots.

"Look at this," I said, shoving the sketch into the lead guard's face. "Does this grow anywhere near here?"

The guard stared at the drawing, his eyes widening in sudden recognition. "That's Shadow-Root! But... but miss, we can't get that."

"Why not?" I snapped, pointing at Kaelen's pale, unmoving form. "He is dying right in front of us!"

"Because it only grows in the Void Glade," the guard whispered. "That territory no longer belongs to the Lycan kingdom. Crossing that boundary is suicide."

I looked down at Kaelen, watching the dark veins reach his cheekbones. He had saved my life in the woods when he didn't owe me a thing. He had brought me into his home, protected me, and left medicine for my wounds while I spat in his face.

I bent down close to his ear, leaning over his trembling form. "Don't you dare die on me, Kaelen," I whispered softly. "I'm not done yelling at you yet."

I straightened and turned to face the two guards. "Gather three warriors to escort me. I am crossing the boundary to get that plant myself."

"Miss, you're human and injured—" the guard protested.

"I don't have a wolf for the Void Glade to suppress," I cut him off coldly. "Now move!"

Twenty minutes later, we stood at the edge of the pitch-black forest marking the boundary of the Void Glade. The air was thick with the smell of rot and burnt ozone.

The three warriors stopped several feet before the boundary line. Their knees wobbled, faces paling as they began to shiver.

"I... I can't go any further, miss," the lead warrior gasped, clutching his head in agony. "The magic here... it feels like it's sucking the air straight out of my lungs."

"Stay here and keep watch," I said, stepping past them without feeling the slightest pressure.

Around the clearing, every blade of grass had withered into brown husks. Only one plant thrived in the center of the clearing: a cluster of silver-veined leaves glowing faintly beneath the moonlight.

Shadow-Root.

I walked into the clearing and knelt in the damp soil beside the glowing cluster. I wrapped my good hand around the stem, and pulled the root from the earth.

A bone-chilling gust of wind swept through the glade.

Before I could stand, an invisible force slammed into my back and drove me into the ground. The impact knocked the air from my lungs as a shadow stretched over me.

Behind me, the guards shrieked, their weapons clattering to the dirt.

"Malachi Draken..." the lead guard choked out in a terrified whisper.