Chapter 98 Wake Up

Micah’s POV.

I don't know for how long I sit there, clutching Fiona's cold body to my chest. The world around me is a blur, and I feel as if all my emotions have been drained, leaving behind a numb, empty shell.

Colin comes and stands before me, his eyes reflecting deep sorrow and understanding. I can't bring myself to say anything, and his hesitant voice cuts through the heavy silence.

"What should we do about Jeremy?" It's a question meant to distract me and I am grateful to him for it.

I look at the man who was supposed to be my brother, the one from whom this entire disaster originated.

"Leave him alive and put shackles on him. He is answerable to the people. He was their prince, and he betrayed them. He will be hanged according to the law."

The words leave my lips like stones, indifferent and cold.

"Micah," Colin says, his voice gruff with emotion. "What can I do?" I meet his gaze, and I know he wants to help. He is fumbling trying to offer me comfort in any way he can. But, I know nothing will help me now. So, I give an order more for his sake than mine.

"Go to my apartment and check that my daughter is safe," I instruct him. I am unable to muster the courage to face Amelia right now, knowing I failed to protect her mother.

As Colin turns away, I close my eyes and tuck Fiona's head into my chest, wishing the world would disappear.

The door of my apartment opens and a woman's scream shatters the stillness. I lift my head, weary eyes fixing on the scene unfolding before me.

A young, pregnant girl rushes towards Havier's lifeless form. My heart aches as I look at his body and the ten swords protruding from his chest.

The girl leans over Havier's body, tears streaming down her face. She doesn't seem to care that her dress is being stained by the blood that now mingles with the dirt on the ground.

I close my eyes, a profound sense of guilt settling heavily on my shoulders. I bear the weight of responsibility for each life lost under my command, and the toll becomes increasingly unbearable with every fresh wave of grief.

The anguished cries of the grieving girl pierce through the air, and a sense of helplessness gnaws at my insides, knowing that I have failed yet another person under my protection.

I clench my fists, feeling like I don’t even deserve to mourn for Fiona’s death. Like, I don’t deserve to feel. I feel like a failure.

A future king with a broken crown forged with his people’s deaths.

"She was brave and she was fierce. She came out to protect my baby and me. My husband died saving her, so don't let his death go to waste," her voice pierces the air, broken and filled with grief. I lift my eyes to meet hers, her words settling on me like a heavy cloud.

"I cannot bring my love back, but you can," she continues and my heart races with a flicker of hope, cautious yet desperate. "How?" I ask, my voice hoarse, the fear of letting my hopes rise only to be shattered by disappointment looming over me.

"The legend of the white wolf. It continues," she reveals, and my world seems to come to a temporary halt. "The white wolves can sacrifice their lives and burst into energy to protect their pack, but they are favored by the moon goddess. They have two lives. If their destined mate gives up their life for them, they wake up."

The revelation sends a surge of emotions through me – a mix of disbelief, hope, and a desperate longing to grasp at any chance to bring Fiona back.

"Three strikes to your heart and your body against hers. It will transfer your life force to her," she says, and I find myself standing on the precipice of a choice that could change everything.

I gather the power inside of me and issue a Lycan command. No wolf of Alastair can escape it; compelled to answer truthfully.

“Are you speaking the absolute truth?” I ask her.

Her eyes become glazed and when she speaks I know she is under my command.

“There is no falsehood in my words. The legend is true and if there is any lie, curse be on my entire birth line.”

I close my eyes and think.

Amelia.

Suddenly, I want to run to my daughter and hug her close. Fiona raised her by herself for three whole years and raised her to be a wonderful little girl. I know without a doubt, she needs her mother more than she could ever need me.

Something deep in my heart tells me, this gamble would succeed.

And between me and Fiona, the choice would always be her.

When I open my eyes again, my decision is made.

I pick up the nearest fallen sword and without a moment’s hesitation, thrust it into my chest.

I stop my body from healing and strike myself three times in the heart in succession.

As blood pools out of me, I press my chest to Fiona’s, letting it soak into her clothes.

As my eyelids become heavy and the world blurs around me, the only thing I can think is:

Moon Goddess, if you are there, trade my life for hers.

____________________

Fiona’s POV

I don't know where I am.

I'm surrounded by a purple mist, feeling weightless and adrift.

Below me, I see my lifeless body, and a pang of sorrow courses through me as Micah clutches it. Horror grips me as he takes the blade and thrusts it into his chest.

"No!" I scream, but my voice dissipates in the clouds. I long to embrace him, to save him, but it's too late. I can only watch as he gives his life for me.

"Don't worry; he will not die. You know the legends, darling." A voice cuts through my agony and I turn to see a gorgeous woman with striking white hair gliding elegantly towards me.

"Who are you?" I whisper, still too overcome with sorrow.

"Your great-great-great-grandmother, darling," she says with a twinkle in her eye, and I stare at her in disbelief.

She gazes down at Micah in wonder.

"He really did sacrifice himself for you. All of us white wolves here had placed our bets. He must truly love you to do so. I am glad I bet on him. Oh, how lucky you are, child."

The mention of Micah's name elicits a fresh wave of pain, and a sob escapes me. I cannot believe the words coming out of her mouth.

"Oh, don't look so forlorn; neither of you has died." She laughs at me. I gaze at her through tears, puzzled.

"How? I have never heard of any white wolf surviving the sacrifice before, and now Micah has gone and given up his life for me. How can you find amusement in this?" My hurt question ends in a broken whisper.

She smiles at me fondly, her wise eyes sparkling.

"No wolves survived because none of the white wolves had a mate willing to give his life for them. The moon goddess doesn't want blood; she wants to test love. Your love for your kingdom and family and your mate's love for you. When white wolves die, they come to this land of dreams. If their mate sacrifices for them, they can wake up; otherwise, they spend their lives here, content and blissful."

I look at her in shock, and she smiles.

"All of us white wolves are proud of you, my love. Your mother would be proud of you too.” She winks at me conspiratorially.

“And now, it is time for you to go back to your beloved." With that, she snaps her fingers, and just like that, my eyes fly open.

The world crashes down on me with frightening clarity. A gasp escapes my body, and all my senses attack me at once. I can still feel Micah's blood against me, and with shaking fingers, I cup his face.

"Please be okay. Please be okay," I repeat over and over, staring at the blade still protruding from his chest with terror.

Clasping my fingers around it, I yank it out, tossing it away as if it has the power to burn me. I watch with bated breath, fearing the worst as Micah's head sags against my chest, lifeless.

"No, no, no, please wake up," I plead ferociously, shaking in fear until slowly, little by little, I witness the wound in Micah's chest threading itself together.

After what feels like a painful eternity, the man I love more than anything slowly lifts his head and gazes at me in a daze.

"Wow, you are beautiful," are the first words that escape his lips, and they are enough to unleash the dam behind my eyelids.

I sob and laugh at the same time.

"Oh, god, you silly, silly man. I love you so much it is unreal." I sputter in amazement and throw my arms around him, crashing my lips to his, hoping I never have to let go again.

Forever and ever and ever.