Chapter 88: FORESEEN FUTURE REVEALING

Xender's POV

Mike’s gaze immediately shot to mine the exact moment I dashed out of the elevator, the limp figure still held firmly in my arms with Alda trailing closely behind me.

“What happened?” Mike asked quickly, already wheeling a metal hospital gurney toward us.

I carefully laid the girl down on the mattress. I watched as Mike went completely still the exact second the heavy duvet fell away, revealing her full figure underneath.

“What in the world...?” he gasped, his gaze snapping directly to mine with a terrifying yet fascinated look. “Tell me this is some form of costume that she's wearing, Xender.”

“I wish we had that kind of time, Mike, but she's losing a lot of blood,” I said, sharply snapping my fingers right in front of his face, needing him to snap out of his shock and focus on the situation at hand. “Why don't we worry about what she looks like later, after she's actually alive and breathing?”

“Right. Let's bring her in,” he said, shaking his head. He immediately began wheeling her toward the back rooms while I turned around to face Alda.

She looked so incredibly distressed, completely out of it. Walking straight up to her, I placed my hands on her shoulders. She stared up at me, looking like she was barely holding herself together, and for some reason, the green-eyed lady—the spirit—hadn't followed us into the clinic.

“Hey, she will be fine. Mike will do everything humanly possible to keep her alive, okay?” I told her, my voice gentle.

She quickly nodded, and before she could say anything, I pulled her tightly into my embrace. I ran a hand gently across her back, trying to comfort her, feeling how incredibly tense her body was under my touch. She was completely devastated by all of this. Pulling back slightly so I could meet her gaze again, I reached up and tenderly wiped a stray smudge of blood from her cheek.

“Go find her,” I said in a quiet whisper, my heart breaking at every single line of worry etched onto her face. “I will go inside and help Mike prepare for the surgery the best way I can.”

She gave a small nod, her eyes reflecting pure pain. “Please take good care of Elba.”

“I will,” I promised. I watched her step back into the elevator before I turned and made my way back into the private ward.

Inside, Mike was already frantically trying to get her out of her clothes and into a clean hospital gown. It was only then, as I stepped closer, that I noticed the steady heartbeat monitor already connected to her hand. Mike kept the heavy bed cover pulled over her torso to preserve her privacy, carefully cutting and pulling the silky blue dress off her slender body from underneath the blanket. Next, he carefully slid the hospital gown over her head, securing it before pulling away the ruined, bloody fabric that was already staining the sheets.

“She has lost a massive amount of blood,” Mike muttered, his hands moving quickly. “I will try as much as possible to keep her stable while I run a few tests on her. But I think there's something stuck deep inside her.”

He switched on the main heartbeat machine, and the steady, rhythmic beep... beep... beep immediately filled the room, indicating she was still holding on.

“Her heart is beating just fine for now. I just need to get whatever is stuck inside out to stop the bleeding and close up these injuries,” Mike added, his sharp gaze finally traveling over to me. “Since you instructed me not to let any of the regular staff in, you are going to be my assistant. While I get her fully prepped, go into the operating room and study every single equipment and cautery tool on that table. Each one already has its name labeled right beside it. You will be working directly alongside me.”

My jaw dropped. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“No room for excuses, Xender. Move.”

A frustrated sigh escaped me as I turned and made my way into the cold surgery room. I stood in front of the metal table, staring down at the wide, sharp-looking knives and tools laid out in a neat row. I ran a frantic hand through my hair, a heavy weight settling in my chest. I have always absolutely hated surgery rooms, and now I was supposed to actively watch and assist in one. Forcing myself to focus, I began repeating the names of each tool, trying to memorize their places.

About ten to fifteen minutes later, the double doors pushed open and Mike wheeled her in under the bright lights.

“The good news is, her internal anatomy doesn't look any different from ours,” Mike stated, his tone dead serious as he hooked up the oxygen mask over her mouth. “But the bad news is that whatever is stuck is deep in her abdomen. Honestly, I'm surprised she's still alive.”

He disappeared into the scrub room for a moment, returning with his hands held high up in the air, signaling he was completely sterile and ready to cut her open.

I felt a sudden wave of nausea hit my stomach.

“Ready?” Mike asked, his eyes locking onto mine over his surgical mask.

“Do I even have the option to decline?” I fired back, my chest tightening as the main room lights dimmed, leaving only the harsh, blinding surgical light beaming down on the table.

“Nope. You don't have an option.”

With that, Mike stepped forward and picked up the scalpel. The moment he made the first clean, sharp cut into her flesh, I violently dragged my eyes away, staring at the wall and wishing more than anything that I could run out of the room.

Alma's POV

I stormed into the palace chambers, the furious anger inside my chest burning like a wild flame. How on earth had they managed to summon a storm that powerful?! A sudden wave of intense weakness washed over me, my knees trembling so badly they could barely hold my weight. I stumbled blindly toward the throne, completely collapsing onto the seat as my breath hitched.

What was happening to me? Why did I feel so utterly weak? It felt as though every ounce of strength was actively draining out of my body.

Before I could even process the feeling, the heavy wooden doors were violently pushed open, and the head elf guard stepped into the chamber.

“Your highness!”

His voice rang through the quiet room, piercing so deeply into my ears that it felt as though he had screamed the words right into my skull. I squeezed my eyes shut in pure agony, a sharp pain throbbing behind my temples.

I waited for him to speak. I waited for him to tell me that his men had finally managed to locate Siofra’s physical body, but the only sound filling the silence was his annoying, heavy breathing.

“Where is her body?” I demanded, my fear rapidly turning into blinding rage as I dragged myself to my feet and marched down the steps of the throne.

Seeing the fury on my face, the guard immediately began backing away, his posture rigid with fear.

“Yo... ur... high... ness, we... we couldn't find her,” he stammered out, his voice shaking.

“And you fucking came back empty-handed?!” I screamed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “Why are you all so completely worthless to me?! Fine. Since you couldn't find her body, why don't I just take yours instead? Since you're of absolutely no use to me alive!”

My voice rang with pure, unbridled malice as I angrily drew my dagger from my hip, raising the blade, completely ready to cut his throat clean open.

“No! Please, your highness! I found someone!” he rushed out in a desperate, panicked scream just as I grabbed him violently by the shirt, ready to end his life. “I found someone who might actually know where they are hiding her body!”

“Why did it take you so long to say that?!” I screamed straight into his face.

The sheer force of the dark power radiating from my rage exploded outward, throwing his body entirely across the room. He hit the floor hard, groaning in pain.

“Bring the person in, now!” I screamed.

He scrambled frantically to his feet and practically fled out the door. A moment later, he returned, dragging a familiar figure along with him. He pushed her roughly forward, causing her to fall to her knees right in front of me on the cold floor.

I stared down, and a cruel smirk touched my lips. It was the elven witch whose powers I had stolen. Even though she had taken over a body that looked decades younger than her usual old, ragged face, I recognized her instantly.

“I see you're still alive,” I sneered, looking into those pale, silver eyes. They stared back up at me with nothing but absolute, burning hatred.

“Give me back my fucking power!” she screamed.

In a sudden burst of rage, she pushed herself up to her feet, violently knocking back the stupid guard who was holding her down. She lunged straight toward me, a concealed blade flashing in her hand.

But before she could even raise the knife to strike, I simply flicked my wrist. With a small, effortless wave of my hand, the dark magic pinned her instantly in mid-air. She froze on the spot, completely unable to move a muscle.

A dark, mocking laugh broke from my throat. “Again, I blame myself for leaving you and that stupid water elf goddess alive in the first place!” I yelled in pure rage.

But instead of cowering, the witch began to laugh. Even frozen completely helpless in mid-air, a bitter, mocking laugh escaped her lips.

“You're a fucking idiot, Alma!” she spat, her silver eyes burning into mine. “It seems you will completely fade away before you ever get the chance to find Siofra's body, let alone her spirit! And even if you do miraculously find them, you don't possess the knowledge to perform the spell that brings body and soul back together!”

Another loud, mocking laugh followed her words, and it completely snapped the very last thread of control I had left in me.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I blurred across the space. My hand clamped violently around her throat. I didn't just squeeze the air out of her lungs—the moment my skin met hers, I felt the dark magic surge, greedily draining and consuming what little energy she had left inside her.

“What did you just say to me?” I screamed directly into her face, my vision darkening with fury. “That I will never find Siofra in time for the sacrifice? That I will fade? Let's see who fucking fades first!”

I watched in cruel satisfaction as she began to violently struggle against my grip. Her legs kicked frantically in the empty air as the color rapidly drained from her skin, turning her completely pale.

“You... will... never... win,” she choked out, her voice rattling as her life slipped away. “After all... you were... rejected by... your own father... and your mum died... just to bring you... into this... world...”

As her final, mocking words rang through my ears, a wave of pure hatred took over. My grip around her neck tightened with a brutal force, and I watched as her body withered away, turning into something resembling a desiccated, dead mummy right in my hand.

I carelessly tossed what was remaining of her shriveled corpse aside like trash. I turned my head slowly toward the elf guard, who was standing by the door, actively vibrating and shaking in total, unadulterated terror.

“Bring me my father,” I ordered, my voice dropping into a deadly, freezing calm. “Now!”