140. Things you need to know
140. Things you need to know
AEMON
The limbo is a damn void that tries to swallow you whole. One second, I'm tearing through shadows with claws and teeth, feeling my blood burn as I fight not to lose myself. The next, it's like the world explodes. A blinding light hits me, and I feel a tug, as if something has seized my soul and ripped me out of there. The bond with Alice and Alaester glows, warm, alive, guiding me like a beacon. It's them. They're bringing me back.
When I open my eyes, the world is a blur. My head is spinning and my body weighs a ton. I recognize I'm in a bed; the smell of herbs and antiseptic fills the air, reminding me of the hospital. Even with my eyes open, I can't quite focus, everything's a bit fuzzy, until the sweet smell of brownies surrounds me, and I feel her.
My little devil. One moment she's at the door in Alaester's arms, and the next she's kneeling beside the bed, her beautiful face streaked with tears. She holds my face, hands trembling, and I want to touch her, but my arms are like lead.
"Alice..." My voice comes out hoarse, weak as hell, but it's enough to make her laugh and cry at the same time. "You... brought me back."
She nods, tears falling as she leans in to hug me. The warmth of her body against mine is like a shock, making my skin tingle violently.
We talk a bit more until I notice a third presence. A witch stands at the door. I know she's a witch because I feel the power emanating from her. The others—Matt, Devon, Kenny, Norvan—are scattered around the room, but it's like the air shifts when she enters. Even Alice and Alaester step back a bit, giving space, though Alaester keeps a protective hand on her waist, as always.
"Aemon," the old lady says softly, "Welcome back."
"Do I know you?" I ask, furrowing my brow. She smiles faintly and walks to the bed, placing a hand on the sheet.
"Few survive Limbo. Even fewer with their souls intact."
"Thanks to them," I murmur, looking at Alice and Alaester.
Myrwen nods, but her eyes don't leave me. She sits on the edge of the bed, and her scent—earth, blood, and something sweet—reminds me of something I can't quite place. "You deserve to know the truth, young Lycan. About your mother. And about the war consuming Pamyel and Aladia. I believe it's time to speak to all of you. Please, close the door."
Kenny, who’s closest, shuts the door, and then the witch claps her hands, casting a soundproofing spell that spreads across the room.
I frown, staring at the witch. “What do you have to say about my mother?” I glance at Alaester, whose jaw is clenched, his eyes blazing with anger. He already knows something, it’s obvious.
Myrwen shakes her head, a bitter smile on her lips. “No, Elora isn’t your mother. Your real mother was a foolish young woman named Liora. She died before you were born, Aemon. Elora did give birth to you and raised you as her son, but you’re Liora’s child; a human woman your father met at the start of this war… the woman who was your father’s destined mate. She was… my friend.”
My head spins again. Shock consumes me. Alice grabs my hand, squeezing it, and Alaester lets out a low growl, as if he wants to protect even my memory. I guess she hadn’t told them this part. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I ask, my voice shaking. “Why did Elora lie?”
“Because Liora was a threat to Elora’s power. She’d been betrayed by her king and husband,” Myrwen says, her voice cold now. “Elora wanted the throne and was pregnant with your father’s child, but then Liora showed up, also pregnant with you. She was the king’s favorite, your father.” She sighs and pauses. “Elora let her stay, and the king grew more and more distant. When Liora died, Elora took you as her own… She was forced to take you. We transferred you from your mother’s dead body to her against Elora’s will.”
My head reels, and it’s not just from exhaustion. Everything I knew about my life was a lie. I look at Alaester, hoping he’ll deny it, but he just lowers his head, guilt written all over his face. “What? Myrwen… I didn’t know, man,” he mutters. “Not until now. I swear.”
I know he didn’t know because he’s always treated me like a brother. Like a twin. The bond between our lycans is too strong.
“We didn’t know, Aemon,” Alice says, panicked, her hands covering her mouth as she looks at me with wide, pity-filled eyes. I’m still in shock.
“I know it’s a lot,” the witch continues. “I know she never loved you the way she loved Alaester. You two were bound by magic in the womb, which is why you look so much like Alaester. She exiled me because I knew the truth.” She glances at Alaester, who nods. “Because I would’ve fought for you to know the truth.”
Alice squeezes my hand, her eyes full of tears. “Aemon, it doesn’t matter who gave birth to you. You’re ours. Mine and Alaester’s. You always will be.”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat, but the anger’s there, burning. That’s why, no matter how good I am at everything I do, no matter how I’m the best warrior, no matter how much I love her…
“And the war?” I ask, looking at Myrwen. “What does Aládia have to do with this?”
Myrwen sighs, her eyes distant. “The war started because of a mistake. Decades ago, during a truce, Pamyel and Aládia tried to negotiate peace. But in an ambush, the Aladian king’s daughter was killed. It wasn’t intentional—a group of rogue Lycans, acting without orders, attacked her convoy. But the Aladian king never believed it was an accident. He swore revenge, and since then, Aládia has been attacking Pamyel, fueled by hatred and grief. Elora used that to hold onto power, fanning the flames of conflict to unite Pamyel against a common enemy.”
The silence in the room is heavy. I feel the weight of every word, like I’m carrying centuries of blood and lies. Alice is trembling, her anger echoing through our bond, and Alaester looks like he’s ready to punch a wall. “So this whole war is a damn misunderstanding?” I growl, my voice hoarse. “All this because of a mistake? Why does our mother keep fueling the war if she was one of the ones hit hardest? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s not that simple,” Myrwen says, standing up. “The hatred has taken root. The Aladian king won’t stop, and Pamyel is trapped in a cycle of revenge. But you, Aemon, and your hunter queen” she glances at Alice, “can change that. Your mother’s blood runs in you. You’re a healthy half-breed and a strong alpha. The people would listen to you.”
I look at Alice, then at Alaester. They’re my anchor, my strength. “We’re going to end this war,” I say, my voice steady despite my body screaming with weakness. “But first, I need to get back on my feet.”
Alice smiles, kissing my hand, and Alaester gives me a light slap on the shoulder. “Yeah, little brother,” he says with a weak grin.
Myrwen steps back but looks at me before leaving. “Rest, young Aemon. The truth is just the beginning. What comes next will demand more of you than the limbo ever did.”
“You all know none of this can leave this room, right?” Alaester asks, looking around as everyone nods in agreement.
This is a lot.