Chapter 79

Chapter 79
Jade POV

When I returned, the room was quiet.

The healer had gone. The candles were burning low, filling the chamber with that soft golden glow I always thought looked good on her skin. And there she was, small, still, breathing shallowly beneath the furs. Her lashes lay soft against her cheeks. Her hand rested near her throat, right where my mark was.

For a moment, I simply stood there.

I didn’t realise I had stopped breathing until my chest ached.

It was strange. I had led battles. I had ripped through enemy lines with my claws dripping red. I had survived trials that should have killed me. But seeing her like this, fragile and pale, I felt something inside my chest twist so tightly it hurt to inhale.

I crossed the room slowly and sat on the bed.

Her skin was too warm. I touched her forehead lightly, and my jaw clenched.

Poison!

I forced out a long breath, trying to steady the fury curling through my veins. I didn’t want to wake her like this with violence boiling under my skin. She needed calm. Safety. Softness.

So I lay down beside her.

I didn’t plan to. I didn’t think about it. I simply moved, as if drawn, and pulled her gently into my arms. Her body fit against mine like she had always belonged there. Her breath brushed my collarbone. Her fingers curled faintly against my chest, even in sleep.

The moment her head rested on me, something inside me loosened.

I exhaled.

And for the first time since the feast… I allowed myself to close my eyes.

Sleep did not come gently.

It came like a storm.

I found myself standing in darkness.

Not the soft, quiet kind but the kind that feels alive, but the kind that watches.

And then I saw her. She stood at the centre of it, wearing white, the same white from the night of the Blood-Red Moon… but stained now. Red. Dark. Blooming like flowers across the fabric. Her face lifted, her eyes wide, shining with something I could not name.

In my hand, there was a blade.

The blade was already red with her blood. My heart lurched, my throat closed, and I tried to speak, to throw the weapon away, to reach for her, to do something…

But my body didn’t listen.

My arm lifted, and I watched myself move toward her slowly and certainly. I could feel the cold metal. I could feel the weight of destiny pressing into my bones. I could feel my pulse pounding like war drums.

“Sera,” I tried to say, but the voice that came out was not mine. It was deeper.

She stepped back.

No… please… she pleaded.

Her lips shaped my name, her eyes filled with pain I knew too well.

And I struck; the world shattered.

I woke with a violent gasp, my whole body locked tight, every muscle tensed to break, to kill, to burn. My breath came in ragged bursts. Sweat drenched my skin. My hands were shaking.

But worse…

My claws were out; my canines were bared.

The taste of blood was in my mouth.

But the dream had been close… so close it felt like a memory.

I stared down at her.

Sera slept beside me, the blankets drawn to her shoulders, her breathing soft, unaware. Her hair spilt across the pillow like night-made silk. The moonlight coming through the window touched her cheek, making her look unreal, almost divine.

My heart hammered so hard I thought my ribs would splinter.

I curled my fist into the sheets. Hard. Until my claws broke through the fabric. Until I could remember I was awake here with her.

I dragged in a shaky breath and forced my claws to retract, one slow tremor at a time.

But the dream clung to me.

The feeling of that blade in my hand.

The way her eyes looked at me, with love and with recognition.

I pressed my forehead into the pillow beside her, trying to breathe.

Something inside me whispered:

It was not just a dream.

And the fear that hit me then was unlike any fear I had ever known; it was not fear of death, not fear of losing the pack, not fear of war, but it was the fear of myself.

Of what I might be.

Of what I might have been.

I stayed like that for a long time, just breathing, just feeling her weight against me, trying to remember the shape of my own body and not the one from the dream. My heart was still racing, and my hands still felt wrong, like they were meant to be holding a weapon instead of her.

My chest ached with pain.

I shifted closer, slowly, careful not to wake her, and wrapped both my arms around her. It was instinctual, protective, desperate, and almost childlike. My face rested in her hair. I inhaled the soft scent of her skin, and the tightness in my throat almost broke me.

The bond pulsed softly where my mark lay on her neck, and the warmth of it moved through me like a plea.

Like a reminder.

She is yours.

But the dream had whispered something far darker.

You will destroy her.

My breath shook.

I pressed my forehead against the curve of her shoulder, closing my eyes. My voice came out low, cracked, and rough in a way I didn’t recognise.

“Don’t let me become a monster,” I whispered.

The words felt unfamiliar. I had never spoken like that to anyone. I was the Alpha. The one they feared. The one who made decisions without ever flinching.

I didn’t fear myself until now.

My fingers tightened gently at her hip, softly, just enough to feel that she was real, alive, warm, and breathing.

“Don’t let me forget who I am,” I breathed, the words barely sounding, more thought than voice. “Don’t let me lose myself. Don’t let fate make me into something that harms you.”