CHAPTER 462: I GOT YOU! ELFIN (1)

Simon was stuck looking stupid. In another day and time, his main worry would have been losing face in front of his Faefolks, but his mind was too preoccupied to be thinking of that notion. He stood there, stuck, looking like a fool.

He had given the order that could have cost Shelby everything. Maybe he had thought that getting rid of the unborn baby was just negligible, but he had miscalculated, for it meant the world to Shelby. Prince Simon had not bargained for the Time Witch’s decision to change, though.

However, one could say that he had tried a last-minute scramble for redemption; only Simon would know whether that was true or not. His actions spoke for him as he made to leap forward - perhaps hoping to be the one to save Shelby, to be the hero in her story. A desperate, instinctive attempt to rewrite the damage he had done.

But he had been too slow.

Instead, the stranger had beaten him to it.

Prince Simon’s arm hovered mid-air, fingers twitching before curling into a fist. He could hear the sound of his own breath, ragged, uneven. A bitter taste settled on his tongue as he watched her, his female, safe, trembling, and held by another. The look on her face just before she buried it in the stranger’s chest was a dagger to Simon’s chest. She wasn’t just relieved. She was grateful. To this stranger!

A sharp heat crawled up his throat, bitter and searing. His stretched hand curled into a grip as he forced himself to stay still, but his nails bit into his palm. Prince Simon told himself it didn’t matter. He had no right to this. And yet, the way she looked at the other man, though brief, made his stomach churn.

’Who was this man? What right did he have? How could he touch my Queen-to-be?!’

The scene before him twisted like a cruel joke. Their embrace lasted a second too long ... long enough for something ugly to take root in his gut. That should have been his moment. His arms around her. His victory. Instead, he was left standing there, an outsider in a story he should have been leading.

And then came the regret.

Another cold whisper in the back of Simon’s mind.

Would she even be looking at him with such relief if he hadn’t failed her first?

’Maybe I should have let her keep the baby? We would have been married by now, and she would have been solely mine before this stranger came in!’

He couldn’t help but also think,

Only If he hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t let his own reckless choices nearly destroy her?

Prince Simon’s throat tightened. He was stuck in place, but no one was paying him any attention. All eyes were on the newcomer.

He should have walked away then. He should have turned his back and let them have their moment.

But he couldn’t.

Not when this was supposed to be his coronation.

Not when he was the one meant to be standing victorious... by her!

And yet, for a fleeting second, Prince Simon wished he were anywhere but there.

***

The familiar warmth of Ian’s arms wrapped around her, and all the tension she had carried for so long unravelled in an instant. Only Shelby knew how taut her emotions had been in the past few days. She had held on for her dear life, drawing assurance in the little life growing inside her.

At that moment, her body slackened, the last threads of vigilance and tension slipping from her grasp. The exhaustion she had pushed aside for survival crashed into her like a wave, but it no longer felt suffocating ... it felt safe.

’He’s here. I knew he would come!’

She clutched at him, unwilling to let go, especially when the memory of the last time she had ’seen’ him in the dungeon surfaced. That was a mirage... but this wasn’t. Shelby knew that she would break into pieces if this were...

His breath fanned against her cheek, warm and steady, a stark contrast to the cold dread that had coiled around her heart for days. That was the assurance she needed that he was indeed with her at that time. To add to that, she felt his heartbeat against hers, a strong, grounding rhythm that told her this was real ... that he was real. That she wasn’t alone anymore.

Shelby had not realized how much she had missed him until then.

The way he held her ... desperate yet careful ... spoke louder than any words. His grip was ironclad, as if letting go would mean losing her again, but even in his urgency, Ian made sure she wasn’t hurt.

He had crouched to gather her into his arms, an awkward position for someone of his stature, but he didn’t seem to care. Of course, he wouldn’t. He never did when it came to her. His care brought more tears to her eyes, but this time, it was not out of frustration or anger... but relief.

"You did well, my Elfin

" he murmured, his voice low and soothing, a balm over the raw edges of her nerves.

"Now let me handle the rest."

Something in her chest cracked at those words. Shelby had resisted so hard, for what looked like a long time. She had clenched her fists and bared her teeth, surviving on nothing but sheer will ... and from Roman’s borrowed strength.

Even though she still did not understand how she had gone through the few days, those words made her feel like she was home. No one had been there to say those words ever! To tell her she had done enough.

But Ian just did.

She exhaled shakily, eyes stinging, throat tight. She wanted to tell him everything.... how terrified she had been, how the shadows had felt endless, how she had almost given up... the new friend she had made in the dungeon.... But no words came. Instead, she curled into his embrace, letting the warmth seep into her bones.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t carrying the weight of survival alone.

It wasn’t until the faintest shift in the air sent a ripple down her spine that she remembered.

’The witch.’

That crazy witch was still there. Watching. Seething. Waiting.

But for a moment longer, she allowed herself to pretend none existed. Because in his arms, she was truly safe.

"Sorry, I’m late!" He added, kissing her temple.

The words unravelled something inside her, a wave of relief so powerful it made Shelby’s knees buckle. She clung to him, shaking, as the stunned silence of the room was shattered by the witch’s enraged shriek.

Shelby stiffened. She did not want to see what was going on with that witch. In fact, she wished never to see that dreadful creature ever in her life again!

"I got you, Elfin," His soothing voice rang in her ears once again, and she felt herself relax.

Ian made to get up. "Stay here... I’ll be ri -"

Nope! Call it whatever you want, but Shelby was not about to let go. Not even in her wildest dreams. The what-if swinging about in her head was too potent for her to consider risking anything.

Like a spider, she wrapped herself around him, arms locked around his neck, legs curled around his waist, refusing to be pried off. A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, his eyes softening at her stubbornness. He let her be, making no attempt to loosen her grip.

What Shelby didn’t know was that he had no intention of letting go either. He had thought her dead and had plunged into darkness himself... why would he ever let her go?

With effortless ease, Ian stood to his full height, carrying her as though she were no more than a feather. The moment he straightened, a collective gasp rippled through the gathered Fae.

No one had truly seen him before ... not like this. He had moved too fast, too subtly, keeping himself in the shadows. They had only seen his back when he was crouched. But now, standing tall, illuminated under the ethereal glow of the faelight, there was no mistaking it.

He was enormous by their standards! With such broad shoulders and towering stature, Ian’s presence was overwhelming, a force that could not be ignored. The sheer contrast between the two was almost jolting: her small frame clinging to him as if she were a part of him, while he held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

Whispers stirred through the crowd, rippling like wind over water. Some murmured in awe. Others in alarm. A few cast wary glances at one another as if suddenly realizing that whatever power lurked beneath the stranger’s composed exterior was something far greater than they had assumed... and they were probably right.

Yet, despite the weight of all those eyes on him, he did not falter. His grip remained firm, his expression unreadable, save for the flicker of warmth in his gaze as he looked down at the woman in his arms. She was safe. And he would not let go.

Ian waved his hand ever so slightly. A sharp, bone-chilling shriek tore through the grand hall, punctuated by the sickening crack of breaking bone. The sound echoed loudly, sending an eerie shudder through the onlookers.

For a split second, silence reigned... heavy and suffocating, until the Time Witch clutched her arm, her bony fingers trembling as they pressed against the unnatural bend in her limb.

Then she screamed again.

’Ahhhhh!!!!!!!’

A raw, agonized wail that rattled through the room.

Gasps rippled across the hall. Some faefolks of the court took instinctive steps backwards while others, too stunned to move, simply stared. The air felt thick, almost tangible, like an unseen force was pressing against their chests. Even the guards, hardened warriors accustomed to bloodshed, exchanged uneasy glances.

The witch’s sluggish speech, cursed by her ancient existence, had momentarily quickened in her distress, but her fury remained in place. Her crimson eyes burned with centuries-old wrath locked onto him with seething hatred.

"WHO ... THE HELL ... ARE YOU!?" she spat, her voice trembling between rage and something dangerously close to fear.

And yet, the man before her showed no triumph, no amusement—only an eerie calm. His face, cast in the soft glow of the hall, betrayed no emotion except for the faintest flicker of something colder than indifference. He did not gloat over her pain, nor did he acknowledge the ripple of fear his power had caused.

Instead, Ian took a single step forward, his towering form casting a long shadow over her. His molten grey eyes were unreadable but made her flinch ever so slightly. The tiniest reaction, but he noticed.

His voice, when it came, was quiet. Controlled.

"I am the one you should have feared from the very beginning. You should not have touched my woman!"

*********

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