Chapter 38 “The Weight Of A Heartbeat”
The world is distant noise.
Shattering stone. Screams. The distant thunder of the realm cracking open.
None of it feels real compared to the sight in my arms—
Elera, limp, her lashes fluttering, her pulse a fading whisper beneath my fingers.
Her magic is still burning through her skin, faint and silver-blue, like the last dying breath of a star.
“Stay with me,” I whisper, though I don’t know if I say it to her or myself. Maybe both. Maybe the gods.
Her head drops forward against my chest.
No.
No.
I gather her tighter, ignoring the weight of exhaustion dragging at my bones. The ritual had drained me to the edge of collapse. The escape had taken the rest. And now—this.
“Liam!” I shout hoarsely.
He appears from the smoke, his eyes wild, face streaked with blood and fear. For once, the look he gives her is not jealous, not conflicted—just raw, terrified concern.
“What happened?” he breathes.
“She gave too much.” My voice cracks. “She pushed her magic past the limit.”
Liam swallows hard. “Can she be healed?”
“If we get her to Silverfang before sunrise,” I say, even though I’m not sure. Even though I’m terrified the answer is no.
He nods once. Strong. Determined.
But I feel the truth in the bond twisting like a knife in my chest.
She’s fading.
I lift her, carrying her as gently as if she were made of moonlight.
As if she might break.
The rift yawns open ahead of us, unstable, flickering like a dying flame. The magic sustaining it collapses more each second—Liam and I barely pulled it open the first time, and now it’s slipping away.
“If it closes before we get through—” Liam starts.
“She dies.” The words taste like poison. “Move!”
We run.
The ground buckles beneath us, the realm splitting, the air twisting with dark energy. Elera stirs once in my arms, her fingers twitching against my chest. Her lips part.
“Aiden…” It’s the faintest breath.
“I’m here.” The world blurs. “Stay with me, moonfire. Just a little longer.”
She tries to smile. It doesn’t reach her eyes.
Then her head falls back, motionless.
“No—Elera? Elera!” I shake her gently. Nothing.
We’re almost at the rift now. Liam grabs my arm as the edges begin collapsing inward.
“Aiden, jump!”
I do.
We land hard on the silver-stone ground of the courtyard. Warriors shout. Moon-wolves howl. The sky itself trembles as if welcoming a fallen star.
“She needs the healers!” Liam yells.
I’m already running.
My mother, the queen, bursts through the archway, her white gown trailing like mist, her face etched with fear.
“Aiden—what happened to her?”
“She saved me,” I breathe. “And now she won’t wake up.”
The queen presses a hand to her mouth. “Bring her inside.”
Healers rush forward, but when they touch her, the magic reacting in her skin flares violently, pushing them back.
“She’s rejecting external magic,” one healer gasps. “Her spirit is unstable!”
“Then stabilize it,” I snarl. “Do something!”
My mother touches my shoulder. “Aiden… the bond between you and her—it’s the only thing keeping her tethered.”
“I know.”
“She needs your presence. Constantly. Or she may drift too far.”
“…How far?”
The queen’s eyes shine with sorrow.
“Into the void between realms.”
My heart stops.
I nod, holding Elera’s hand tighter.
“Then I won’t leave her”
They place her in the Moon Chamber—a room of silver glass, glowing runes, and soft lunar magic meant to nurture weakened souls.
She lies motionless on the bed, her hair fanned around her like a dark halo, a faint shimmer still clinging to her skin.
I sink into the chair beside her.
Liam stands in the doorway, hesitant. “Aiden… if you need anything—”
“I need her to wake up.”
He nods once, guilt piercing his features. “She chose you, you know.”
“I didn’t ask her to.”
“That doesn’t matter.” His voice is soft. “She still did.”
A long silence.
Then he steps back.
“I’ll guard the door.”
I barely hear him leave.
My world narrows to her hand in mine.
I don’t sleep.
I don’t eat.
I don’t move unless it’s to adjust her blankets or brush her hair back or check if her pulse is still there—still weak, still stubborn, still hers.
Her breathing is shallow.
Her magic flickers.
Sometimes I talk to her.
Sometimes I pray.
Sometimes I curse the gods until I have no voice left.
But I never stop watching her.
My mother comes in at one point, sits beside me, and says quietly:
“Love is heavier than any crown you will ever wear.”
I don’t answer.
Because I know she’s right.
l
On the seventh night—the darkest, quietest night—the runes around the room flicker.
Her fingers twitch.
Just once.
Just enough.
My heart slams in my chest.
I lean forward, gripping her hand.
“Elera? Elera—moonfire, please—”
Her lips move.
A whisper escapes them.
One word.
Broken. Faint.
But unmistakable.
“Aiden…”
I exhale, the sound shattering into a sob.
She’s coming back.
She’s finding me.
She’s still mine.