Chapter 125 She lives
DARIAN
The silence is unbearable.
I can still hear my own words ringing in my head; Exile me. Strip me of my title. Just let her live.
They hang in the air like smoke, thick and choking, filling every corner of the throne room.
No one moves. No one breathes. The world feels frozen, caught between one heartbeat and the next.
My father’s eyes are on me. Cold. Calculating. But there’s something else there too, something I’ve never seen before. Not anger. Not disdain. Something heavier.
He exhales slowly, the sound loud in the stillness.
Then he does the unthinkable.
He pulls the sword away from Iris’s throat.
The crowd gasps as he lowers it completely, the silver blade gleaming harmlessly at his side. His hand falls away from her shoulder. He steps back.
For a second, I don’t believe what I’m seeing. My brain can’t process it. I stare, unmoving, waiting for the catch, for the cruelty, the trick, the punishment.
But he just stands there, breathing hard, his gaze unreadable.
I stumble to my feet, my heart pounding. “You’re…” My voice breaks. “You’re letting her go?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Then, finally, he nods once.
“Yes.”
The word slams into me. I blink, confused. “What?” I whisper, like I didn’t hear him right. “You’re… serious?”
“I said yes,” he replies quietly. “She lives.”
Iris sways on her feet, her hand pressed to her throat, tears mixing with the blood there. I want to run to her, but I can’t move. I’m afraid if I do, he’ll change his mind.
My father looks at me, really looks at me, and for once, I see something humane behind the mask of the King. His voice drops, softer, more tired than I’ve ever heard it. “I could end the prophecy,” he says, “but not at the cost of my son’s life.”
I swallow hard. “You…You were willing to kill her for it.”
“I was,” he admits. “Until now.”
He sheaths the sword slowly, his hands shaking just slightly. “I wanted to believe you didn’t love her enough to die for her. That when faced with losing everything, you’d walk away.” He pauses, meeting my eyes again. “But you didn’t.”
“I meant every word,” I say, my voice raw.
“I know.” He studies me for a long moment. “And that’s exactly why I can’t do it.”
His words hit harder than any blow could have. The tension in my chest unravels, replaced by confusion, by disbelief, by a thousand emotions I can’t name. “I don’t understand.”
He exhales, the sound filled with years of weight. “You think I don’t know what that kind of love feels like?” His gaze drifts past me, lost somewhere I can’t follow. “When your mother died, I thought the world ended. Every sunrise felt like mockery. Every breath felt like betrayal. I wore this crown like armor because if I didn’t… I would have fallen apart.”
The room feels smaller now, the crowd fading into the background. It’s just him and me. Father and son. King and heir. Two men bleeding in different ways.
He continues, his voice trembling despite his best efforts. “I had to stand before the council, the packs, the world, and pretend I was fine. Pretend that losing her didn’t tear my soul in half. Because I was king. Because weakness meant war. I buried her, Darian, and then I buried the part of myself that loved.”
My throat tightens. I’ve never heard him speak like this. Never seen his mask crack.
“I don’t want you to live that way,” he says. “I don’t want you to wake up every morning haunted by the ghost of someone you couldn’t save.”
I take a step toward him, slowly, careful not to startle him, or myself. “Then why?” My voice is a whisper. “Why put her in danger at all?”
“Because I was afraid.” His answer is simple, broken. “Afraid of what losing control means. Afraid of what the prophecy might bring. Afraid of repeating history.”
He finally looks back at Iris, who’s standing so still she looks carved from stone. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, her lips parted, trembling.
“I thought killing her would protect you,” he admits. “That cutting her away from your life would save you from the pain I endured. But I see now that it would destroy you instead.”
I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. My fists clench at my sides as I fight to hold back the storm inside me. I don’t know if I should hate him or thank him.
He steps closer, not toward me, but toward Iris. She flinches, instinctively, but he only lowers his gaze, his voice quieter now. “You’ve brought chaos to my halls, girl. And somehow, you’ve brought something else too.”
She blinks. “What?”
“Truth,” he says simply. “Painful, inconvenient truth.”
He looks back at me. “You love her. Deeply enough that you’d throw away your birthright. I was foolish to test it.”
“I didn’t want to prove anything,” I say hoarsely. “I just wanted her alive.”
“And that,” he says, almost smiling, “is exactly why I’m letting her live.”
I can’t stop the trembling in my hands. Relief hits me so hard it feels like pain. Iris’s knees buckle, and she nearly falls, but I’m there in an instant, catching her before she hits the floor. She clings to me weakly, her breath hitching against my chest.
My father watches us, expression unreadable again, though I swear I see something soften in his eyes.
When he finally speaks, it’s quiet. “You love her the way I loved your mother. Fiercely. Recklessly. Completely.”
“I do,” I whisper.
He nods slowly, his gaze distant again. “When she died, I thought I’d never feel anything again. But seeing you now… I remember what it was like. The madness of it. The beauty. The pain.” His hand tightens briefly on the hilt of his sword before he lets it go entirely. “I wouldn’t wish that kind of loss on anyone. Especially not my son.”
The words slice through me like a blade. I look up at him, searching for anger, but there’s none. Just exhaustion. Just sorrow.
“I don’t agree with this prophecy,” he says finally. “And I still believe it may doom us all. But I will not be the one to take her from you.”
I don’t trust myself to speak. I just hold Iris tighter, her fingers curling weakly into my shirt, her body trembling against mine.
My father straightens, his voice growing stronger again. King once more, but not unkind. “You have my permission,” he says. “Complete the mating process.”
The room erupts in gasps again. The councilors exchange shocked looks, the guards shift uneasily, the whispers rise like a wave.
I can barely process what he’s said. “You…what?”
He looks at me, the faintest glimmer of a smile ghosting his lips. “You heard me. If your bond is truly that strong, then let it be sealed. The prophecy will do what it must. The world will burn or it won’t. But it will not be because of me.”
Iris stares at him, eyes wide. “Why?” she whispers. “After everything , why let us?”
He hesitates, then answers softly, “Because once, I was you. And if I had been given a choice… I would have wanted someone to let me keep the woman I loved.”
He turns toward the throne, his shoulders heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. “You have until dawn,” he adds. “Then I will deal with the council.”
He walks past us, his footsteps echoing through the stunned silence. No one dares to stop him. No one dares to speak. The doors open slowly, the light spilling in from the corridor.
Just before he crosses the threshold, he pauses.
“Take care of her, Darian,” he says without turning around. “Or you’ll end up like me.”
Then, without another word, the Lycan King leaves the room.