CHAPTER 83: DAMN IT!

Warning! This Chapter contains a sensitive topic such as child deaths.

*~Caspian’s POV~*

We finally arrived at the location Lilith had given us. The moment we stepped in, the air shifted—cold, charged, almost vibrating with the residue of dark magic. Witches were present. I signaled to the others. We stayed low, alert, and ready.

Then—an arrow whizzed through the air.

I ducked instinctively, growling as it missed me by an inch. Another arrow flew, this time grazing Leon’s shoulder. And then they emerged—witches, camouflaged in dirt-toned robes, their faces marked with ash and bark. They weren’t using spells... they were fighting with Arus—nature-bound weapons.

Just like I suspected.

They were remnants of a coven, not whole. Dallia had been their tether to power—she was their anchor, the one who connected them to the spirit of the earth. Without her, they couldn’t cast properly. They were weakened. Unstable.

Which made them easier targets.

Aurora moved like fire through the chaos—five witches on her, and not a single one could land a hit. Her power wasn’t borrowed from any coven. She drew directly from nature itself. A wild witch. Very rare strong type.

Then A screech..it was a loud small tone. My eyes snapped toward the sound. A baby’s cry.

My heart slammed against my ribs. Aurora turned to me, panting. Her hand gripped mine. "Those are the babies," she whispered urgently, and then—without warning—kissed me.

A jolt of energy pulsed through me.

"Go," she said. "Now."

I nodded, and in a blink, I sprang into the trees, following the faint trail of sound. Branches scratched at my arms. My pulse thundered in my ears. I followed the cry, deeper and deeper until I—

Stopped.. right there center of the clearing... was a figure. Standing riding, half-shadowed by the low branches of a weeping willow.

And beneath him..A tree stump. With two bundles of cloth.

The babies.

My steps slowed. My hearing sharpened—one heartbeat. Just one.

No. No, no, no. There were four of us here—me, the figure, and two babies. Why was I hearing only one?

Something was wrong. The figure dropped something—a small cup. His hands trembled. He turned slowly, and my chest seized.

Cyrius. It was the first time I’d seen him since we sealed him in the coffin five years ago.

His face looked paler. Hollow. His eyes sunken and filled with something I couldn’t place—rage, grief, guilt... or madness.

His lips parted. "Caspian..." I didn’t speak. My eyes darted to the bundles again.

Why... why were they so still?

My heart shivered. A piercing, unbearable ache bloomed in my chest as my gaze locked with his—Cyrius. My brother. My blood.

And then I bled through him.

I lunged, my rage exploding through my body as I shoved him backward, the weight of everything collapsing onto my shoulders.

I turned to the babies.. two tiny bundles. Two fragile bodies wrapped in soft cloth, I dropped to my knees, hands trembling as I reached out. My fingers brushed their cheeks.

Cold.. Hazel’s baby.... There are cold.

No warmth. No pulsing heartbeat. Their tiny chests didn’t rise. Their eyes were shut, and their skin—gods, their skin was already starting to change. A grayish tint crept into their delicate faces. Their lips held a bluish hue.

No No. No. No.

There’s no damn way. They were turning blue. Like they were—like they were already decaying.

I nearly lost my balance. My vision blurred. My hands refused to stop shaking. I could barely breathe.

"I—I promised Hazel," I whispered, voice cracking. "I promised her I would bring them back. I told her they’d be safe."

I looked up, throat raw, and glared at him.

"What did you do, Cyrius?!"

His face twisted in anguish. "No—this wasn’t the plan. Caspian, I swear to you, this was never the plan—"

"These are babies!" I roared, my voice echoing into the trees. "If you wanted revenge, you would come for me. You come for Cayden. You come for the ones who wronged you—not innocent children."

His knees buckled. "I never meant to hurt them! The witch—she took the powers from them. She gave them to me. And then everything... everything went wrong."

He shook his head violently, eyes wide, fingers clawing through his hair. "They weren’t supposed to die! I thought they were asleep. I—I didn’t know—no!"

He screamed. I couldn’t listen.

I dropped one of the babies, my hands flying to his throat as I slammed him against the nearest tree. His back cracked against the bark, and I pinned him there with one hand, fury roaring through my veins. And then I saw it.

His skin. Pale... dry... blue. It wasn’t just the babies. He was decaying too.

His veins were darkening beneath the surface of his skin. His eyes looked sunken, like the life inside him was leaking out slowly, just like theirs The witches.

They hadn’t just drained the babies. They’d turned on him.

They must have drained the twins of their powers, passed them a fake or poison to Cyrius, then let all three die.

I tightened my grip on his throat, fury trembling in my voice.

"Do you know how much pain Hazel has already endured? Do you even know the hell she’s been through?"

His mouth opened, but I didn’t let him speak.

"She’s already hanging by a thread—and now you killed her children. Two damn babies, Cyrius."

My hand shook as I lifted him higher. "What kind of monster are you? He choked, gasping, struggling.

"I’m not a monster..." he rasped. "You are." I froze.

He coughed, spitting blood. "You’re the one who sealed me in that coffin. You and Cayden. You daggered me and buried me alive for five years. You stole my life—my youth. While you lived—loved—mated, had children... I was rotting. Watching my time slip away in darkness."

He coughed again. "You think I wouldn’t lose my mind? You think if it were you, you wouldn’t have done the same?"

I slammed him harder. "The same? You mean murdering babies?"

"They weren’t supposed to die!"

He shouted in my face, spit and tears mixing as his voice cracked.

"They were Cayden’s," he said through gritted teeth. "That boy... that thing is not normal. You know it. There’s something dark in him. That’s why they made him Alpha—because no one else could contain that power. Those babies were part of him. You think they’d live a peaceful life? No."

I stared at him in horror.

"Maybe it’s better this way," Cyrius muttered, broken. "Cayden mated with a Crescent. You think those children would grow up loved? Safe? The world would have come for them eventually. To take them. To kill them. Maybe... maybe it’s mercy."

"You—" I couldn’t even finish the sentence. Rage strangled the words in my throat.

"You’re calling Cayden a monster?" I hissed. "Then what the hell does that make you?" He did not say anything because there was nothing to say.

That’s when Aurora and Leon burst into the clearing. Aurora froze mid-step, her eyes falling on the lifeless forms of the babies in my arms. She screamed. A raw, soul-tearing scream that pierced through the trees.

Leon didn’t wait. The moment his gaze landed on Cyrius, he lunged forward and punched him square in the face. Cyrius fell backward onto the cold, blood-smeared earth, coughing and choking. He didn’t even fight back.

I turned to Aurora, who had dropped to her knees. Her arms trembled as she reached for the twins. I hesitated, then slowly handed them over. Her hands were shaking, and when her fingers brushed their cold skin, she broke.

"No," she sobbed, rocking them. "No, this cannot happen. This—Caspian, no, they can’t be dead. They’re just babies. Look at them—" Her voice cracked as she looked at me, broken. "How are we going to tell her? How do we tell Hazel?"

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My throat burned. My heart... my heart was ripping apart with each second. Hazel’s smile flashed in my mind. Her voice. Her hope. The way she whispered, "Bring them back to me." And now... this?

Leon stood beside me, silent, fists clenched. I knew he was trying to stay composed, but I could see the veins in his arms throbbing. Everyone was in shock. Even the wolves who had arrived and shackled Cyrius stood frozen at the scene, like death itself had arrived before us.

"We have to tell her," Leon finally said, his voice low.

"No," Aurora whispered. "We need to hide it. Just—just for now. Let her have some peace. Please."

"If we hide it," I snapped, "we’ll give her a false happiness. And when she finds out, it’ll crush her. Worse than now. She’ll think she was smiling while her babies were dead."

"I know her," Aurora said, her voice trembling but firm. "I know Hazel. She won’t be able to forgive herself if we lie. Not again. Not after everything."

"Then what?" I shouted. "We tell her and then what? She breaks again? Does she turn off her emotions again and go rogue? She’s not stable yet, Aurora! She’ll burn the whole damn world down if we tell her now."

Aurora stared at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. She cradled the babies tightly.

"At least one thing must happen," she whispered. "What we should’ve prevented is the babies dying... but now that it’s happened, we have to face the consequences. We owe her the truth, Caspian. Even if it breaks her."

And I stood there. Broken. Because she was right.

But that didn’t make it any easier.