Chapter 83 The Ritual

Chapter 83 The Ritual
Coriander’s Point of View

I could not sit still, my hands restless as I kept glancing back at Mivron. He was in the backseat of Mavros’s car, drenched in cold sweat, his face tight with pain, every jolt of the road making him wince. Mavros drove fast, pushing the car hard along the road toward the Hundi Pack lands, his jaw set and his eyes sharp on the road ahead.

If only I still had enough strength to open a portal, I would have done it already. But I could not force my body to do it—not when I had not yet fully recovered myself after everything I had used up in the battle. My power was still too drained, and pushing it further would only leave me helpless too.

“Keep going, Luka,” I said firmly. “Do not stop. Hold it exactly as you are.”

Luka sat beside Mivron, both hands pressed gently against the cursed wound, his brow furrowed in deep focus. He was pouring all his strength into slowing the poison, freezing the spreading violet liquid so it could not travel further through Mivron’s veins. It was only a temporary barrier, a stopgap, but it was all we had right now.

This was no ordinary injury. It was poison, pure and dark magic woven into the very blade that struck him. If that violet corruption reached his heart, it would eat him away from the inside—one organ at a time, shutting them down slowly, painfully, until there was nothing left. No ordinary healer could touch it. No simple spell could pull it out. I knew the only thing that could destroy it completely was the ancient full‑blood ritual performed only by the highest healers of the Hundi Pack. And one of the few who could perform it was Aunt Elmira.

My chest tightened at the thought of her. I was still angry with her for the terrible plan she and the others had made against my son. She had been ready to hurt my own flesh and blood, to kill an innocent life, all because of some twisted belief about the Sigil.

It burned me to have to turn to her for help. But I would swallow my pride, my anger, every last bit of it. I would walk into her home and bow my head if I had to because Mivron was Bridgette’s mate. He was my brother. And I would do anything, face anyone, to keep him alive.

“Luka,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm of feelings inside me, “keep the poison contained. We are almost there. And when we arrive… I will handle the rest.”

After nearly an hour on the road, we finally arrived at the Hundi Pack lands. I did not know how we had made it here so fast, and right now I did not care at all.

The moment we stepped out, Jonas, Rui, and Huwan were already there to meet us—they had gone ahead earlier to bring Elder Mara and Tulfa back. It was clear they had not expected us to return with Mivron like this, but they asked no questions. They saw the urgency in our faces and moved at once.

“Where is Grandmother Elmira?” I asked sharply, my voice serious and firm, as I walked straight toward the great ancient tree that marked our gateway into the barrier.

“She is in her cabin, Lady,” Rui answered respectfully.

“Go and tell her I am summoning her immediately,” I commanded. “And gather all the healers at the Sanctuary at once. We need the full-blood ritual prepared—now.”

“It will be done, Lady,” Rui bowed, then hurried through the gateway into the protected lands ahead.

I turned back to Mavros, Luka, and Mivron—who was leaning heavily against Mavros’s shoulder, his face pale and glistening with cold sweat, his breathing shallow and pained. The violet glow around his side still pulsed darkly, held back only by Luka’s fading magic.

“Come,” I said gently but urgently. “We are in Hundi Pack now. They will help him. Grandmother Elmira is the only one who can draw this poison out completely. Trust her. Trust me.”

Mavros nodded once, his arm strong and steady around Mivron as we stepped beneath the branches of the ancient tree and crossed into the sanctuary of the Hundi Pack.

The air here felt different—older, thicker, humming with deep, ancient magic. But there was no time to admire it. Every second counted. The poison was still there, waiting for Luka’s hold to break. And I would not let Mivron become another casualty of Mara’s greed. Not when I had the power to call for help.

We had barely stepped inside when many came. The moment we stepped inside, many came forward to meet and welcome us. Their faces lit up with genuine joy and relief to see us returned safely after all that had happened.

My eyes scanned quickly through the crowd, searching for one person in particular—Elo. I let out a quiet breath of relief when I did not see him among them. I had kept him away from all of this for a reason, and I did not want him walking in on this scene.

Most of all, I did not want him to see Mavros—not like this, not when everything was so raw and urgent. I wanted to protect him from the heaviness of this moment, and I wanted to spare Mavros the pain of seeing his son before he was ready, before we were all truly whole again.

I led the way straight to the Sanctuary, the heart of our lands, where the sacred magical lake lay shimmering beneath the moonlight. The most senior and experienced healers of the Hundi Pack were already gathered there, seated in a wide circle around the water, their hands joined and glowing with soft, golden light, already preparing the space and calling upon the ancient power of our ancestors.

Standing among them was Aunt Elmira, clearly confused and wondering what emergency had brought us rushing here so suddenly.

She came toward me the moment she saw me enter. “Coriander, what is happening?” she asked, bewildered, glancing between me and the men supporting Mivron.

“There is no time to explain every detail,” I said firmly, cutting straight to what mattered most. “This is the mate of my sister Bridgette and he has been struck by Elder Mara’s deadliest poison. I need you to perform the full-blood ritual. I need you to draw this poison out before it reaches his heart and destroys him. Do it now, Aunt Elmira—please. Save him.”

“But...” she started to object, as if about to argue or question my right to command her.

“Do not let your own pride stand in the way, Aunt Elmira,” I said sharply, meeting her gaze steadily. “Think of us, too. We are your family—Bridgette was your niece. This is what family does. If you save Mivron… if you heal him fully and truly… I will set aside everything you have done against me. All the lies, all the plans, all the hurt. I will forgive it all. That is my promise.”

My voice trembled but did not break as I finished, my eyes locked steadily on hers, letting her see every bit of my pain, my anger, and my desperate hope that she would choose the right thing this time.

She paused, her lips pressing into a thin line. She looked at Mivron and then back at me. She saw the seriousness in my eyes, the desperation I was trying so hard to hide.

Slowly, she nodded. “Bring him to the water,” she said, her voice softening. “Lay him down where the light touches the surface. We will begin the ritual at once.”

Mavros and Luka carried Mivron gently forward, following her to the edge of the sacred lake. The healers shifted to make space, their hands still linked, their low chant already rising in the air.

I stood back for only a moment before stepping beside Elmira, ready to help, ready to do whatever it took to make sure Mivron survived.

“Is he going to be alright?” Mavros asked, his voice quiet but thick with worry.

I looked at him and felt a soft warmth in my chest. Ever since I first met him, he had always acted as though he barely tolerated his brother—keeping his distance, speaking sharply, and hiding every trace of care behind pride and stubbornness.

But right now, standing there watching the healers work, there was no more pretense. I could see it clearly in his eyes, in the way he leaned forward slightly, as if ready to step in and take Mivron’s place if he could. He loved Mivron. He had always loved him. He just never knew how to say it.

My lips curved into a gentle smile. “Your brother will be fine. Trust me,” I said softly, resting a hand lightly on his arm to steady him.

We were still right in the middle of the ritual when a sharp, familiar voice suddenly rang out across the entire Sanctuary, followed instantly by panicked voices trying to stop him.

“My Lord, you cannot—”

“Momma!”