bChapter /bb143 /b

    bThe /bbsilence /bafter the ritual bwasn’t /bbtruly /bsilent.

    bIt /bbwas /bbthe /bkind bof /bbquiet /bthat rang in your ears long after thest sound had faded–a silence so dense it pressed against your skinb, /bbheavy /bband /bbunnatural/bb, /bas bthough /bthe very air had forgotten how to move. It bfelt /blike the world itself was holding its breath, afraid to exhale too soon.

    Thest of bthe /bglowing runes shimmered weakly across the cavern floor, their golden light dimming with each heartbeat before bretreating /bbinto /bthe bcold/b, ancient stone. Where moments ago there had been zing brilliance and searing powerb, /bnow there was nothing but faint scorch marks etched binto /bbthe /brock band /bthe sharp metallic tang of burnt magic clinging to the air.

    bI /bbreathed in, and even the air felt altered–thicker, weighted with the residue of what we had done. My chest rose and fell in shallow burstsb, /bbeach /binhale ba /bconscious effort. My muscles trembled from exhaustion, though I had not been the one to speak the ancient words bor /bbear the crushing weight bof the /bfinal spell. My role had been different–raw, brutal, physical.

    I had fought with Mika’s strength.

    I had wed, bit, and shielded.

    I had thrown myself again and again at Luca’s essence, forcing him back toward the trap Lira had carved into the very bones of the earth.

    But the sealing–the true binding of his spirit–had been hers alone.

    And it had cost her.

    Lira was still kneeling in the center of the circle. Her head hung low, her sweat–soaked hair stered to her pale face. Her arms were suspended in the same position they had been when she’d finished thest syble of the incantation, hands hovering just above the cursed Book. Its surface, once alive with malevolent whispers and dark, oily magic, nowy still and pale in front of her. ulli/li/ul

    The copper scent of blood reached me before I even saw it–a single thin line trailing from the corner of her mouth down to her jaw. My heart lurched at the sight. She was breathing, but her breaths were shallow and erratic, each one sounding like it scraped against her ribs on the way out.

    “Lira,” I rasped, forcing my body to move toward her. My bare feet slid across the dust, leaving faint smears of blood and dirt in my wake. My legs felt like lead, heavy and unresponsive. The wolf in me had receded long ago, leaving me human and stripped raw. “Stay with me.”

    A shadow fell over me before I reached her.

    Francesco.

    He was back in human form, but even like this he carried the same bone–deep presence–an alpha’smand wrapped in the quiet, immovable force of a mountain. Blood streaked his jaw and neck, his shirt torn nearly ito /iribbons, deep gashes still weeping crimson across his side and shoulder. His eyes, though dulled from the battle, still carried the faint, feral glow of the Lycan within.

    He crouched beside Lira, hisrge hand hesitating just above her shoulder. For once, his confidence faltered. He didn’t know if touching her would shatter whatever fragile bnce kept her tethered to us.

    “She’s alive,” he said atst, his voice low, almost disbelieving. “She did it.”

    I followed his gaze to the Book.

    Ity at the exact center of the circle, closed now, its once–ckened leather faded to an ashen gray, as if something had sucked the life from bit/b. bIt /blooked brittle. Dead.

    There was no whispering now, no sick pulse that made the air taste like iron. Just stillness.

    “If bLuca /bis destroyed…” My voice cracked mid–thought, the words tumbling out before I could decide whether I wanted to speak them baloud/b. b“/bbThis /bbdies /b

    with bhim/bb./bb” /b

    bChapter /bb143 /b

    bI /bbhad /bbclung /bto that bthought /blike ba /blifeline during the fight. It had been sharp band /bcertain in my bmind /ba truth I could blean /bagainst white beverything /belse bburned/b. bAnd /bbyet /bnow… standing in the aftermath, staring at the Book’s lifeless shell… certainty felt like a bluxury /bbI /bcouldn’t bafford/b.

    bFrancesco’s /bjaw tightened as he followed my gaze. “We know he’s destroyed,” he said carefully, his tone evenb, /bmeasured, “He’s gone now”

    The wordsnded like sunlight on my skin–warm, almost too warm.

    Finally.

    Around us, the others were beginning to stir. The battlefield was littered with the wounded and the fallen. Those who still lived moved slowly, their bodies dragging with exhaustion. Beta Alfonso limped toward the nearest group of warriors, scanning for movement, for signs of life.

    Audrey was already at Lira’s side, kneeling opposite Francesco, her hands moving with quick, practiced precision as she fumbled for thest of her healing salve. Across the cavern, a handful of knights who had held the defensive perimetery motionless.

    Too still.

    Too quiet.

    My stomach twisted violently.

    The ground was a patchwork of broken steel and ckened ws, scraps of armor still smoking where magic had burned through them. The copper sting of blood was thick–too thick–seeping from wounds both human and inhuman

    My gaze snagged on the still form of one of the younger warriors, his features soft even in death. He couldn’t have been more than seventeen. His sword was still clutched in his hand, fingers stiff in rigor.

    I looked away sharply, my hand flying to my mouth. My breath came in shallowb, /buneven gasps.

    “Eine.”

    Francesco’s voice cut through the fog in my head, sharp but not unkind.

    I looked up at him. His eyes locked onto mine, steady, unreadable.

    He was still bleeding freely from his side, the gash deep enough that any other man would be on the ground. His shirt was torn in so many ces that the fabric hung in tatters. He didn’t seem to notice–or he refused to.

    “We need to move,” he said firmly. “This ce… it’s not safe to linger. If Luca left any trace–if any part of him escaped-”

    “He didn’t,” I cut in, too quickly, my voice too sharp. The words sounded almost like a plea. “He can’t. We sealed him for good.”

    For a long moment, Francesco didn’t answer. Then he gave a single, slow nod.

    forced my feet to carry me thest few steps to Lira. I dropped to my knees beside her. Audrey and Monica were working together now, trying to coax a few drops of potion past her lips. Her eyelids fluttered faintly, but she didn’t wake.

    Her breathing was shallow, each inhale rattling as though her lungs had forgotten the rhythm.

    “She pushed herself too far,” Monica murmured, her focus fixed on measuring the potion. “Her magic’s gone. Completely. It’s a miracle bshe’s /bbstill /bbreathing.”

    Something inside me clenched so tight I could barely inhale. I wanted to tell Monica she was wrong–that it wasn’t worth it, that no victory bwas worth /bthis–but I knew Lira wouldn’t have listened.

    “She saved all bof /bus,” I said softly.

    Audrey’s jaw tightened, but she gave a small nod.

    Chapter b143 /b

    bIt /bbtook /bball /bof us bto /bbmove /bbher/bb. /bFrancesco lifted her easilyb, /bhis arms steady bdespite /bhis own wounds. I bstayed /bclose benough /bthat bmy /bbfinger/b, brushed against bher /bbevery /bbfew /bbsteps/b, needing the reassurance of her warmth.

    bThe /bbothers /bgathered what supplies and bodies they could. The rest… would have to be left behind.

    bThe /bwalk back to the kingdom was endless.

    Each step dragged heavier than the one before. The adrenaline that had the dull ache of injuriesb. /b

    Some warriors carried the dead-limp bodies draped over their st

    wounds, but refused to be carried.

    or

    US

    through the fight was gone, leaving behind only exhaustionb, /bbgrief/bb, /bband /b

    adled in their arms. Others staggered under the weight of their own

    By the time the kingdom’s walls appeared on the horizon, the first light of dawn the clouds. It should have been beautiful. Instead, it felt like an insult–too warm, too bright for the devastation we carried home.

    bleeding into the sky. Pale gold and deep crimson stretched across

    The gates opened the moment we approached. No questions. No hesitation. Wor took in the sight of us.

    I had spread fast. The guards‘ expressions fell into grim silence as bthey /b

    Inside, the courtyard was already filling. People whispered in hushed tones,

    their

    eyes scanning our battered group for answers.

    When they saw Lira limp in Francesco’s arms, an audible gasp rippled through them.

    And then… their eyes turned to me.

    Only then did I realize what I must have looked like. Barefoot. My white gown tattered beyond recognitionb, /bstreaked with dirt, ash, and blood. My silver hair tangled and wild, my skin smeared with the grime of battle.

    But they didn’t seem to see any of that.

    Their gazes locked on imy /iface–not the filth, not the torn fabric, but the fact that I was walking.

    A murmur swept through the crowd.

    “Luna Eine…”

    The sound hit me like a physical blow, deep in my chest. I hadn’t felt like a Luna in full strength had faded from me.

    so long–not since

    mhad been stripped away, not since Mika’s

    Maybe it wasn’t magic that made them see me that way.

    Maybe it was simply that I had stood with them. Fought with them. Bled with them.

    We didn’t stop in the courtyard. Francesco led us straight to the healing ward. He didn’t set Lira down until we reached the inner chamber, where the healers were already preparing a bed.

    They swarmed her instantly, voices low but urgent. I stood back, fists clenched at my sides, forcing myself not to hover. I had done all I could. Now, I had

    to trust them.

    Francesco came to stand beside me. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

    “You fought well,” he said finally.

    It wasn’t praise. It was truth. But hearing it still made my throat tighten.

    “We’re… done?” I asked. “If Luca is truly gone, the Book-”

    “It’s harmless now,” he finished, his gaze flicking to where the Book sat, swaddled in heavy cloth.

    bChapter /bb143 /b

    For bthe /b

    first

    time bsince /bthe

    fight bbegan/b, bI /b

    I bfelt /bsomething loosen in

    my thest

    bRest /bEine

    Mika’s voice whispered

    In my head,

    soft and warmb. /b

    And then bthe /b

    fatigue

    bhit /bme like a w wave.

    My knees buckled.

    The world tilted.

    Francesco’s arms caught

    me

    And darkness imed me.

    before I could hit the floor.