The room felt stifling, the silence stretching unbearably, broken only by the soft vibration of the magical wards surrounding us. Devon lay on the bed, his chest bare, his body disturbingly still except for the weak rise and fall of his breath. The thin sheet draped over him did little to hide the unnerving spread of the darkness, black veins spiralling from the wounds on his shoulder and side, like some twisted ivy seeking to choke the life out of him.

His warm, straw-coloured skin had dulled to an ashen gray. He looked smaller somehow, his strong features reduced to something frail, delicate even, as if a single touch could shatter him. The sight of him like this made my chest ache in a way that was almost unbearable.

I couldn’t stop staring at those veins, remembering how they had consumed Camille. How I had sat by her side night after night, helpless as the curse devoured her piece by piece. Now, watching it happen to Devon, that same clawing helplessness took root in me. I thought I had buried that pain, but now it was here again, and so raw and fresh.

I lowered myself to my knees beside the bed, my hands trembling as I held them just above his chest. The heat from his fever reached me through the thin sheet. His breaths were uneven, his once-vivid eyes now dull and barely open. It was the first time he looked mortal—so vulnerable it made me ache in a way I couldn’t explain.

“Devon,” I said softly, leaning forward until my forehead touched his. His skin was damp and cool, his usual earthy scent was almost drowned by the sharp, acrid stench of the curse. “Don’t leave me,” I whispered. “I can’t do this without you.”

I choked on the words, my throat tightening. His chest rose slightly beneath my hands, but there was no other sign that he heard me.

I wasn’t sure if I expected an answer, but the silence was devastating. My magic buzzed under my skin, desperate to be useful, but every time I reached for it, our bond felt faint, like trying to grasp smoke with bare hands.

I pressed my palms flat against his chest, feeling the faint beat of his heart beneath. Weak, but there. The fire inside me sputtered to life, small and uncertain, and I willed it to reach him, to burn away the shadows coiled inside him. My vision blurred with tears as I concentrated, pouring every ounce of magic into our bond, silently pleading with the universe to let me have him. Just a little longer.

Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. My jaw ached from clenching it so tightly, and my fists trembled as my nails dug into my palms. A sob threatened to escape, but I swallowed it back, biting hard against the pain in my throat. My magic stirred again, a flicker of embers that wasn’t enough to pierce the suffocating darkness wrapped around him. They were twining deeper into his body, pulling him further from me with every second.

He’s slipping away.

The thought hit me like a punch to the chest, and frustration cracked through my control. “No!” I growled, slamming my fist into the mattress. The bed frame shook under the force, and the sound of my voice startled me. My breathing hitched as I glared at him, willing him to fight. “No, I’m not letting this happen.”

Mouriana’s words came to mind again: You share a bond with your mate that lets you connect to his core. Use it.

I gritted my teeth and focused, trying to grasp that bond. It felt so far away, like a fraying thread slipping through my fingers. The fire sputtered again, and I curled my hands into tighter fists. The sharp pain of my nails biting into my palms did nothing to silence the voice in my head screaming that I wasn’t enough.

The tears blurred my vision, and they burned as they streaked down my cheeks. “Come back to me, Devon,” I whispered, pressing my hands harder against his chest, as if sheer force alone could make him respond.

His hair clung to his damp forehead, and I reached out, brushing it back with shaking fingers. His skin was too warm, fevered, and yet it felt cold to me. My hand lingered on his face as I whispered, “In case you forgot, you promised me forever, you infuriating man. So fight. Fight for me.”

Nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition.

I pressed my hands back to his chest, forcing every ounce of energy I had left into him. My fear twisted into a desperate desire as I focused, willing my magic to do anything to save him. I let the water energy flow from my fingertips, imagining it washing away the shadows as I pleaded silently for it to work.

When I stepped back, my hands falling away, the stillness in him remained. No movement, no change. Nothing.

“No!” I screamed, the sound ripping from my throat with all the anger and grief I’d tried to suppress. It echoed in the quiet, leaving the room feeling even emptier. My knees gave out, and I crumpled beside him, burying my face against his chest as the tears finally spilled over.

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat pulsed against my cheek. Something sparked in me, a jolt of realization. My eyes flew open as the answer struck me.

I’d been doing it wrong.

With a trembling breath, I slid my hand into his, lacing my fingers through his. His hand was cold, unnervingly so, but I gripped it tightly. If I could hold him here physically, maybe I could find him spiritually. I closed my eyes, forcing everything else to fade away—the fear, the doubt, the suffocating weight of failure. All that mattered was finding him.

The thread connecting us was real, a tether woven from the bond of Lycans and witches, binding us through the strength of our connection. It was my lifeline to him, my only hope. I reached for it, pushing past the chaos of my own emotions and the suffocating weight of the curse.

Then, faintly, like the faint chime of a distant bell, I felt it. A flicker. A vibration. The thread.

I grabbed it without hesitation, pouring everything I had into holding on. The room around me dissolved, its corners blurring and fading into a swirl of light and shadow that pulled me inward. My breath caught as I was swept into another place, cold and damp, thick with the scent of pine and soil. It was eerily still, and Devon’s familiar scent was present.

Before me, a sea of silver mist stretched endlessly, rippling like water under the glow of an unseen moon. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of my own shallow breathing. Far ahead, at the edge of the mist Devon stood motionless. His broad shoulders were hunched, his head bowed, and his back turned to me. Darkness crawled over him, wrapping around him, sinking into his being.

“Devon!” I shouted. The sound echoed outward, swallowed by the endless mist. He didn’t move.

Panic tightened in my chest, and I began to run, my feet moving soundlessly across the shifting ground. The mist swirled and parted with my steps, but the closer I thought I was getting to him, the farther away he seemed. My heart pounded and I pushed harder, my legs burning with the effort as I forced myself forward.

Finally, I reached him, grabbing his arm. My fingers closed tightly around his wrist, and I pulled, trying to draw him back toward me. “Devon, it’s me,” I said, my voice trembling. “You have to come back. You can’t stay here.”

Slowly, he turned, his movements sluggish, like it took all his strength to face me. When his eyes met mine, the breath caught in my throat. They were pale, void of life, a dull shadow of the fiery grey that had always been so full of energy. He didn’t seem to truly see me. His gaze was empty, distant, like a man staring at something far beyond this moment.

“Celeste?” he murmured, and his voice sounded as if it came from a great distance. “What are you doing here?”

Tears blurred my vision as I cupped his face, the chill of his skin sending a shiver through me. I held him firmly, forcing him to look at me, to see me. “I came for you,” I said. “You can’t stay here. I need you to come back with me.”

A small crease formed between his brows, a flicker of recognition breaking through the haze. It was barely there, but it was enough to send a rush of hope through me. “I can’t,” he whispered. “The darkness” it’s too much. It’s taken too much.”

“No,” I said forcefully, shaking my head as my hands slid to his shoulders, gripping him like I could anchor him to me. “It hasn’t taken everything. You’re still here. I can feel you. You’re not gone.”

His eyes flickered through the emptiness. “I don’t know if I can fight it,” he admitted softly.

“You can,” I insisted. “You promised me forever, remember? This isn’t forever. Not yet. You don’t get to leave me like this. Fight for me. Can you do that?”

The shadows around him hissed, writhing in protest. But the weak light in his eyes grew stronger, flickering like the first light of dawn breaking through a storm.

“Celeste’” he murmured again, and this time, there was a spark of recognition, of life, in his voice that made my heart lurch.

I clung to it, to him, with everything I had.

I gripped his hands, holding on to him with every ounce of strength I had. “I’m here,” I said. “You’re not alone.”

Then the shadows attacked, a wave of suffocating darkness that bore down on us with terrifying force. Without thinking, I raised my hands, and fire burst from my palms roaring to life. The flames cut through the void, illuminating the mist with a fiery glow as they collided with the shadows. The darkness recoiled, shrieking and twisting away from the searing light, and for a moment, I thought it was over.

But it wasn’t enough. The shadows reformed, more determined, more consuming. Tendrils of black snaked toward Devon again, wrapping around him like a prey and what truly bothered me was that he wasn’t fighting it. Panic swelled in my chest, but I didn’t let go. I poured everything I had into my blast, willing it to burn brighter, hotter, anything to keep the darkness at bay.

“Gracious Gaia, do something!” I screamed my frustration.

Then the mist stirred. A soft breeze brushed against my cheek carrying with it a voice I hadn’t heard in years, one so familiar that it stopped my heart.

“I told you I’d always protect you, little star.”

I froze then slowly turned toward the sound, my flames dyiny out as the mist shifted. She stepped forward through the mist with a grace that could make the world pause.

Camille.

Her dark hair fell freely around her shoulders, looking beautifully glossy in the silver mist. Bright and fierce like they’d been kissed by the blue moon. She wore a ceremonial armour of blue and white, the kind we’d admired during the Calling Festival as children. Every curve and plate was inscribed with blessed runes. In her hand, she held a curved blade, and the tip hummed with power.

“Camille?” I breathed, my voice trembling with disbelief. “How” how are you here?”

She smiled a soft, bittersweet smile that reached her eyes. “Did you really think I’d let you face this alone?” she asked, reassuring me the way she always had.

My knees wavered, and I took a shaky step toward her. “How”?” I whispered again, unable to form the rest of the question.

“You finally called me,” Camille said as her green eyes met mine. “Do you remember? The Calling Festival, under the blue moon. When we made that vow to each other.”

Her words shook loose a memory I hadn’t dared to touch. That night, laughter ringing across the festival grounds, the moonlight pooling at our feet as we clasped hands. We’ll always be there for each other, little star. To protect until our dying breath. The promise had been solemn, the kind of oath you didn’t fully understand until much later. Now, it all made sense—the vision of her during the selection ritual was real.

Camille’s gaze shifted sharply to Devon, and the warmth in her eyes hardened into steel as she took in the shadowy tendrils coiling around him. “We’ll talk later,” she said. “First, we save him.”

The shadows writhed and hissed, recoiling as she advanced. They were alive, angry, their dark shapes clawing at the ground, trying to hold their place. Camille kept moving towards them. The curved blade in her hand was a weapon of impossible beauty and deadly purpose, and the runes along its surface glowed like embers.

“You won’t have him,” Camille said, her voice travelling through the mist. They rippled outward, not in sound but in power, a force that made the ground tremble. “You won’t have any of them.”

The shadows lashed out, desperate tendrils snapping toward her, but she struck them down. The blade cleaved through the dark, and with every swing, the tendrils disintegrated, leaving faint trails of smoke in their place. The air grew hot as her fire pushed back the dark, filling the expanse with her inferno.

I stumbled forward, caught in the swell of her power, the heat prickling along my skin. Camille didn’t pause. She pressed forward, carving a path through the dark, her shoulders squared, her focus unshakable. The shadows screamed as she tore into them, each cry sharper than the last.

“Cee!” Her voice rose over the chaos, commanding my attention without turning her head. “Call to him.”

Her words pulled me back, cutting through the noise in my mind. I turned to Devon, who hung in the grip of the remaining shadows. His head was bowed. The shadows held him fast, their coils winding tighter.

“Devon!” I shouted, my voice hoarse as I stepped closer, my hands trembling as I reached out to him. “Devon, look at me! I’m here! You’re not alone!”

For a moment, nothing happened. The shadows shifted, as if they were mocking me. But then, his hand twitched, a small movement that nearly undid me. His head shifted, lifting just slightly, though his face remained hidden in the haze.

Camille’s blade flashed in an arc of light, her strikes faster now, cutting down the darkness as it tried to reform. “Keep going!” she shouted, her voice ringing out like a battle cry. “He hears you. Don’t stop.”

I stepped closer, my fists clenching at my sides. “Devon,” I said again, this time softer. “I need you. You made me a promise. You don’t get to break it now. Fight for me. Fight for your C—il.”

Camille stepped to my side, her hand resting over mine. The warmth of her touch was overwhelming as if her strength was flowing directly into me. Her voice was quiet but strong with a certainty I hadn’t felt in myself for a long time. “You’re stronger than you think, little star. You always have been.”

The fire surged from me to him as I touched him. Gold and silver light intertwined, pouring into Devon like rivers chasing the darkness deep within. Camille’s blade struck down the remaining shadows, every swing carving through the mist with finality. The darkness let out one last shriek, a sound that echoed and fractured, before dissolving completely into nothingness.

I was back in room with Devon, the fire in my palms growing brighter so I immediately rested them on his chest. “Come back to me, Devon,” I whispered. “Follow the light. Follow me.”

A powerful surge of heat rose from my core, flaring into him. Devon’s body arched, his back lifting off the bed as the fire surrounded him, engulfing him in light. His breath caught suddenly, and then he gasped, the sound breaking the stillness like a shattered chain.

“C—il,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but alive.

The sound of his voice pulled me back fully to the present. I blinked away the blur of tears as Devon’s chest rose sharply, his body jerking as life surged back into him. His hand tightened around mine. When his eyes opened, they were no longer hollow and empty. They were his. They were Devon.

Relief surged through me, and I let out a sob, clutching his hand as if I’d never let go. I leaned forward, my forehead resting against his, my tears falling freely. “You’re safe,” I whispered. “You’re safe.”

Above us, Camille lowered her blade, her face softening as she looked at us. The light around her began to fade, her form flickering as if it were being called back. She met my gaze one last time, her green eyes bright and alive.

“I’ll always protect you, little star,” she said, her voice carrying faintly, like an echo in the wind. “Never forget that.”

And then she was gone. Her form dissolved into the warm glow that lingered in my chest.

Devon’s breathing evened out, his grip on my hand tightening slightly, a silent assurance that he was here. He was alive. I leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You’re safe,” I said again. “We’re safe.”

But as I looked at him, the reality settled in my chest. The war wasn’t over. Outside this quiet moment, those witches were waiting.