Chapter 207

ALPHA PARTHE.

"Let's begin," Kalaril said before leading the way to the large chamber that had been prepared for the rituals.

The chamber was a vast, dimly lit expanse with air so thick with the scent of burning herbs and potent ancient power.

The witches stood in a circle, their dark robes pooling around them like ink seeping into the floor. They hummed low chants that resonated through the chamber, carrying a tide of old magic.

Kalaril stood in the middle of the circle, and for the first time since I had known him, he looked entirely in his element—an AshBlood wizard in his full, terrifying glory.

The crowd waited outside.

They weren't meant to witness what was about to happen. This moment belonged to the witches, to Kalaril, to Luxuria, to Sibile—and to me.

Sibile lay on the cold altar, barely breathing, her face waxy and drenched in sweat. The gaping wound on her neck had turned an ugly shade, the blood flowing sluggishly. Her body was losing its battle against time.

Too much time had already passed. If we didn't act now, she would die before the ritual was complete.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to breathe. I wasn't afraid of death—I had stared it in the face more times than I could count. But this? This was different. The curse that had shaped my life and defined my existence was on the brink of being broken. I should have felt relief. Instead, all I felt was genuine uncertainty and panic pressing into my chest like an iron fist.

Luxuria knelt beside Sibile, her fingers trembling as she wiped away the sweat beading on the girl's pale forehead. She was crying. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks, glistening in the dim light.

I wanted to tell her to stop. That this was necessary. But I knew she wouldn't hear me. So I let her do her thing until Kalaril signaled me to take my position.

I took a slow breath and stepped forward, lying down on the cold stone opposite Sibile. My muscles tensed as I settled into place.

"I'm ready," I said.

Kalaril moved and stood at the head of the altar, his eyes so dark, while ancient symbols etched into his skin, glowing with an unholy radiance. He raised his hands, signaling the witches to begin chanting.

Kalaril's voice rang out, "Veyna Solas Karesh… Xientha Maruk Talos… Devour the darkness, sever the beast!"

The chamber quaked. A sharp wind tore through the enclosed space, swirling dust and embers into a vortex above us. The power in Kalaril's words was alive, crawling through the air like tendrils of unseen fire.

"Sibile... Thank you. Your sacrifice will never go unnoticed. For generations to come, everyone will sing your praise and tell tales about what a great woman you are." Luxuria sniffed, and the girl only let out a weak smile and nodded slowly.

Kalaril picked up a sharp-edged knife and slit his palm, pouring his blood into the small vial on the table.

He mixed his blood with the content of the vial, and black smoke escaped the mixture into the air.

"Drink this," he said to me, and I obeyed and drank before he passed it on to Sibile, who also drank from it with the help of Luxuria.

Kalaril's gaze snapped to me. "Mark her. Now."

My stomach tightened. The mate's mark. The one thing that bound wolves together forever. To do this to someone who had no choice… But I had no choice either.

I pushed up from the altar, muscles coiling as I walked over to Sibile.

Luxuria's sobs hitched as I leaned over. "I'm sorry," I murmured to Sibile, knowing she probably wouldn't even hear me in her state.

Her lips parted slightly as a weak exhale escaped her, but she didn't move.

I bared my teeth and bit down on the tender space where her neck met her shoulder.

The moment my fangs punctured her skin, the chamber erupted in blinding white light.

Sibile gasped sharply, her body arching off the stone in a violent spasm.

The taste of iron filled my mouth, but I didn't stop. My mark seared into her skin. This was a claim that should never have been mine to make.

I could feel Luxuria trembling beside me, but I didn't dare look at her.

As soon as my fangs withdrew, the magic in the room swelled.

My head swam, my chest tightening as something deep within me shifted. I barely had time to lay back down before it began.

A force unlike anything I'd ever known tore through me.

My back arched off the stone as a violent shudder wracked through my body. The beast inside me howled in fear. And for the first time ever, I felt what real fear was like.

The beast knew. It knew it was being ripped away.

Kalaril wasted no time. He threw his arms wide, chanting in a furious cadence. "Tarsis Kel Vorth! Kien Sol Raesh! Shift the burden, break the chains!"

The chamber trembled again, the torches flickering wildly as something deep within me twisted and clawed its way up. My body convulsed as a searing pain sliced through my core.

I let out a strangled snarl as I felt the curse being ripped away, pulled out like a living thing fighting to stay anchored to my soul.

My veins burned as if they had been filled with molten fire, searing from the inside out. My hands clawed at the altar, my fingers curling into fists so tight my knuckles popped. A guttural snarl tore from my throat as the unseen force pulled deeper and harder.

Sibile convulsed.

Her small body bucked against the stone, a strangled sound escaping her lips.

The black veins on her neck spread rapidly, crawling like cracks through porcelain. The beast inside me, the darkness that had ruled me for so long, was pouring into her now, and it was surging like a flood.

"Hold her down!" Kalaril commanded.

Luxuria sobbed as she tried to keep Sibile still, but the girl's body bucked and thrashed, the agony unbearable.

"No—no, no, no, hold on!" Luxuria choked out, panic thick in her voice. "She's dying. She won't make it!" She screamed, but Kalaril paid no attention as his chants grew more intense.

I barely registered my own pain as I gritted my teeth, my hands curling into fists. Every nerve in my body burned, my vision blurred, my pulse thundering in my ears.

And then—I let out a final, gut-wrenching wrench.

A roar tore from my throat, so animalistic, so raw that I could hardly believe it came from me.

Suddenly, I began to feel empty. A certain kind of emptiness I had never felt since I was born. And I didn't need anyone to tell me why...

The beast was gone.

Ripped from me.

I gasped for breath, my limbs weak, my mind barely able to process the relief that crashed into me like a wave.

But Sibile—

She was dying.

Her convulsions weakened, her body shuddering, her breaths turning shallow. The curse was devouring her too quickly. The ritual wasn't done yet, but she wouldn't last long enough to see it through.

"No—No!" Luxuria sobbed, shaking her. "Sibile! She's not—She is—" The words were too heavy for her to say. Sibile was just a breath away from death.

Sibile arched off the stone, a choked gasp escaping her lips. Her fingers curled into claws, nails digging into her own skin as she trembled violently. Her throat bobbed, a ragged, rattling breath barely pushing through her lungs. Her eyes, half-lidded and glazed, sought out something—someone—before locking onto Luxuria.

A tear slid from the corner of her eye.

"I—" Her lips barely moved, her voice no louder than a whisper.

"Hold on," Luxuria sobbed, her hands gripping Sibile's frail ones. "Just a little longer. Please."

But Sibile's body seized again, her spine bowing unnaturally before her entire form convulsed with such force that the stone beneath her cracked.

The last of the curse bled from me and into her. And then—silence.

Her body fell limp.