Chapter 238

Ethan's POV

After the humiliating incident with the witches at the cave entrance, I had no choice but to retreat. I ran because I wasn't ready to be completely embarrassed in front of supernatural beings who clearly saw me as nothing more than a powerless human pretending to be a king. It was an embarrassing moment that cut deeper than any physical wound, but I'd rather face that humiliation than be harassed and potentially killed by witches who had no respect for what I used to represent.

The taste of my own blood was still fresh in my mouth, and the wounds on my legs throbbed with every step I took through the crystalline corridors. But I knew the way to the main witch cave—I had been here before, years ago, when Sebastian had brought Heaven here for healing. The memory of that desperate journey felt like a lifetime ago, back when I still had my powers and the confidence that came with them.

My boots echoed against the crystal floors as I made my way deeper into the cave system, following the pull of ancient magic that seemed to vibrate through the very walls. The air grew thicker with supernatural energy the further I went, making my skin crawl with the awareness of how vulnerable I was in this place.

Before I could reach the main chamber where I knew Malia would be, Sebastian appeared out of nowhere and slammed me against the wall with enough force to knock the breath from my lungs. The impact sent fresh pain shooting through my already injured body, and I could feel new bruises forming along my back and shoulders.

The agitation and frustration that had been building inside me since I'd discovered Malia was missing exploded into pure rage. I punched Sebastian square in the jaw, putting all of my remaining strength behind the blow.

"You have no fucking right to come into my life and dictate Malia's safety!" I yelled, my voice echoing through the crystalline chamber. "She's my mate, my responsibility, and you had no business bringing her to this godforsaken place without my knowledge or consent!"

Sebastian wiped blood from his split lip, his expression a mixture of anger and something that looked almost like pity. "I have every right to listen to a grown woman's decisions when she's trying to save herself and her baby," he said firmly.

The word 'baby' hit me like a physical blow, stopping my next attack mid-swing. I stared at him in shock, my mind struggling to process what he had just said.

"What do you mean by baby?" I asked, my voice suddenly hoarse with disbelief and growing panic.

Sebastian's expression softened slightly, as if he realized I genuinely didn't know. "Malia is pregnant, Ethan. She's carrying your child, and that's what makes this entire situation so much more dangerous than we originally thought."

The revelation felt like the ground had shifted beneath my feet. Pregnant. Malia was pregnant with my child, and I hadn't even known. How long had she been carrying this secret? How long had she been dealing with this alone while I was focused on my lost powers and political problems?

"You weren't thinking straight with your cock when you were claiming her," Sebastian continued, his voice harsh with accusation. "But at this point in time, we need to either get the powers out of her system, redistribute them equally, or she's going to die along with the baby."

The brutal honesty of his words cut through me like a blade. He was right—I had been so consumed with desire and the need to mark her as mine that I hadn't considered the consequences of transferring my powers to someone whose body wasn't equipped to handle them.

"The vampire powers in a human body are already dangerous enough," Sebastian explained, his voice growing more urgent. "But with a pregnancy involved, her system is under even more stress. The magical energy is literally tearing her apart from the inside."

That revelation was all I needed to hear. I stormed past Sebastian toward the main chamber, my injuries forgotten in the face of this new crisis. Nothing else mattered now—not my pride, not my lost powers, not the political implications of any of this. Malia and our unborn child were in danger, and I would do whatever it took to save them.

"I demand to see the witch queen!" I shouted as I entered the main chamber, my voice carrying all the authority I could muster despite my powerless state.

The witch queen materialized from the shadows, her ancient presence filling the crystalline space with an energy that made my skin crawl. She was even more intimidating up close, her silver hair seeming to move with its own wind while her eyes held the wisdom and cruelty of centuries.

"You need to leave so I can concentrate on the ritual," she said without preamble, her voice carrying absolute authority. "Both of you need to exit the cave immediately. Your emotional turmoil is interfering with the delicate magical processes required to save her life."

"Over my dead body," I said firmly, planting my feet and crossing my arms despite the pain it caused. "I'm not leaving Malia alone with you. I don't trust you, and I don't trust this process."

The witch queen's expression grew cold, her eyes narrowing as she studied me with obvious disdain. "If you refuse to leave, then you can go ahead and enter the inner chamber to collect your mate and take her away," she said with cruel indifference. "Because she will not survive the ritual with your interference, and I will not be held responsible for her death."

She paused, letting her words sink in before delivering the final blow. "With the fact that she is pregnant, the vampire powers in a human body combined with the stress of carrying a child will be too much for her to endure. The magical energy will kill both her and the baby if the ritual is not performed under perfect conditions."

At that point, I knew I was completely fucked. Every choice I had made, every decision that had led us to this moment, had been wrong. I had claimed Malia without understanding the consequences, I had lost my powers through my own arrogance, and now the woman I loved and our unborn child were paying the price for my failures.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

The witch queen smiled, but there was no warmth in the expression. "You need to trust me to do what must be done, and you need to stay out of my way while I do it. The choice of how to proceed—whether to save the mother, the child, or attempt to save both at great risk—that decision belongs to Malia alone."

I wanted to argue, wanted to demand that I be allowed to make the choice or at least be present when it was made. But looking at the witch queen's implacable expression, I realized that I had no power here—literally or figuratively.

All I could do was wait and pray that the woman I loved would make it through whatever was about to happen in that chamber.