CHAPTER 240

CHAPTER 240
Ethan's POV

I went back to my clan feeling completely devastated by everything that had happened at the White Cave. The image of Malia's pale face, the witch queen's cold indifference, and Sebastian's desperate attempts to save her were burned into my memory like brands on my soul. All I could do now was hope for the best while trying not to think about all the ways this situation could go horribly wrong.

The journey back to vampire territory felt longer than usual, every mile stretching endlessly as my mind raced with worst-case scenarios. What if the ritual failed? What if I lost both Malia and our unborn child because of my selfish need to claim her without understanding the consequences? The weight of my failures pressed down on me like a physical burden, making it hard to breathe.

I couldn't stay mad at Sebastian—not really. Despite my anger at him for taking Malia to such a dangerous place without consulting me, I knew he had been trying to help. He had seen a problem that needed solving and had taken action when I was too proud and too stubborn to see the bigger picture. But I wasn't ready to talk to him either, wasn't ready to face the disappointment and accusation I knew I would see in his eyes.

So all I did was run back to my pack territory, pushing my injured body harder than I should have, using the physical pain to distract myself from the emotional agony that threatened to consume me. By the time I reached the castle, my wounds had reopened and I was bleeding through my clothes, but I barely noticed.

I went straight to my private chambers and headed for the bathroom, desperate to wash away the blood, sweat, and humiliation of the day. The hot water would help ease the physical pain, even if it couldn't touch the deeper wounds to my pride and heart.

The maids were already there when I entered, having prepared a bath as they always did when I returned from any kind of journey. They moved efficiently around the space, adding oils and salts to the water, arranging fresh towels and clothes for after my bath.

"Leave me," I said curtly, my voice rougher than I intended. "I want to be alone."

They looked surprised by my dismissal—usually I didn't mind their presence, and they were accustomed to helping me with various tasks. But something in my tone must have warned them not to argue, because they bowed quickly and filed out of the room without a word.

I sank into the hot water with a groan of relief, feeling some of the tension leave my muscles as the heat worked its way into my bones. But even as my body began to relax, my mind continued to race with worries and regrets.

I knew what was going to come next. Just as Heaven had warned me, the people were already conspiring against me due to the fact that my powers were suddenly not available. Word would spread quickly through the supernatural community that the vampire king had been reduced to nothing more than a human with a fancy title. Other clans would see this as an opportunity to challenge my authority, to test whether I could still command respect without the supernatural abilities that had always been the foundation of my power.

The political ramifications were staggering. Treaties that had been signed based on fear of my strength would be reconsidered. Alliances that had been forged through respect for my abilities would crumble. Enemies who had been held in check by the threat of my retaliation would grow bold.

I was still brooding in the bath when one of my guards knocked on the door.

"Your Majesty," he called through the wood. "You have a visitor. He says it's urgent and refuses to leave until he speaks with you."

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the edge of the tub. The last thing I wanted right now was to deal with political visitors or clan business. All I wanted was to sit in this hot water and try to forget, for just a few minutes, how completely I had fucked up everything that mattered to me.

"Tell them I'm not available," I called back.

"He was very insistent, Your Majesty. He said you would want to see him, that it concerns your... current situation."

The careful way the guard phrased that last part told me that word of my condition was already spreading through the castle. Soon everyone would know that their king was powerless, vulnerable, human.

With a sigh of resignation, I hauled myself out of the bath and began getting dressed. I felt dull, moody, and completely unprepared to deal with whatever political maneuvering was about to be thrown at me. But duty called, and even without my powers, I was still the king.

I made my way to the main mansion, my wet hair still dripping slightly and my movements lacking the fluid grace that supernatural strength had always given me. Every step reminded me of what I had lost, of how diminished I had become.

When I entered the main receiving room, I stopped short at the sight of my visitor. It was someone I never expected to see in my territory, someone whose presence here could only mean trouble of the worst kind.

Salvador's brother stood in the center of my receiving room like he owned the place, his posture radiating the kind of confidence that came from knowing he held all the cards. This was the one person who had betrayed Sebastian back in Moon Park, the man whose treachery had nearly destroyed everything my brother had worked to build.

He looked exactly as I remembered him—tall, dark-haired, with the kind of sharp features that women found attractive and men found threatening. But there was something different about him now, a smugness that hadn't been there before, as if recent events had given him some kind of advantage he was eager to exploit.

He smirked when he saw me, his eyes taking in my obviously human appearance with obvious satisfaction.

"Well, well," he said, his voice dripping with false friendliness. "Look what we have here. How's life treating you these days, living as a powerless vampire king?"

The casual cruelty of his words hit me like a slap, but I forced myself to remain calm. This man was here for a reason, and showing weakness or anger would only give him more ammunition to use against me.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice carefully neutral despite the rage building in my chest.

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I want," he replied, his smirk widening. "The question is, what are you willing to give me to make your problems go away?"

I realized then that this visit wasn't just about gloating over my misfortune. This man had come here with a purpose, with some kind of plan that involved my current vulnerability. And whatever he was planning, I had a feeling it was going to make my already complicated life infinitely worse.