Chapter 70

Chapter 70
Calix's POV.

The carriage pulled to a stop before the terrace. I stepped out first, shielding Emily as best as I could from the downpour even as a servant approached with an umbrella.

I entered the castle and there came Leia running down the foyer. "Calix!" she cried.

"Hello, Leia." We met halfway.

Leia's lips pressed into a thin line as she glanced at Emily, who was still asleep in my arms.

"Goddess...What did they do to her?"

She's alive, that's what matters. I think I know the witch behind this?"

"You do?" Leia asked. We stood staring at each other.

"Her name is Adria. She used to be Thane's lover."

"Thane? Do you mean Alpha Thane, Emily's father?"

I nodded.

"So this is about revenge?" Leia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because he chose Emily's mother over her?"

Footsteps echoed behind us, Han and Randolph stepping into the foyer.

"Randolph?" Leia gasped. "Randolph!!"

She ran to him and threw herself in his arms. "Leia!" He caught her and spun them around. Gently, he lowered her to the ground and kissed her. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too."

"How's our little pup?" he asked, cradling her stomach.

"He's fine," she murmured, placing her hands over his. "Except he misses papa so much."

"I missed you too, little one," he said, and then claimed her lips again.

Peeling my gaze from them, I glanced at my mate still asleep in my hands and headed upstairs for our chamber.

The top floor was as I remembered. The Nirian güards dipped in humble bows as I walked past them to my chamber.

Crossing the room, I gently laid her down on the bed and covered her with a blanket.

I stood staring at her while I fought back the tears threatening my eyes.

Another reverberating thunder hit the sky and reverberated the walls of the castle. My ears picked up movements behind me.

Turning around, my gaze settled on Han standing at the threshold. Behind stood Leia and Randolph. Exhaling, I joined them in the hallway.

"What's next?" Han asked as I stepped foot in the hallway.

"Now that I have my mate safely here, the next step would be finding the witch's coven." Sighing, I glanced at Leia. "Any news on how to reverse the spells?"

Leia straightened from Randolph's embrace. She brought out a tome, flipped to a page a bookmark rested, and gave it to me. "I think I have that figured out."

Taking the book, I stepped away.

'The Witch's Grimoire of Suffering.' I gulped at the chapter's caption.

To bind the mind, to shatter the self, one must claim the thread of life. A single strand, severed in deception, entwined with blood, and cast into the abyss of sorcery. From this, madness is born.'

"The bewitched will wander the void of their own mind, lost to themselves, their past eroded like sand swept into the sea. They will not recall love, nor name. They will become as a vessel emptied, yet filled with whispers of another's will.

My breath lodged in my throat. That was it! This was the reason Emily couldn't remember me or herself.

Taking a steadying breath, I continued reading.

To break the spell, the abyss where the thread cooks must be unearthed. A pot of eternal darkness, where the cursed strand still boils in the depths. It must be shattered, its essence destroyed to break the hold of the spell.

Wait, a pot? A thread? This was exactly what Elara had warned about-the prophecy which she'd talked about and we'd thought about it as an illness.

My heart pounded in my ears as I kept reading.

'But beware-the ritual must be completed before the rise of the full moon, the curse must be broken. If the abyss endures past its zenith, the madness will weave itself into permanence, never to be undone.'

shut the book and panted.

"What does it say?" Han asked.

"The full moon! The curse must be reversed before the full moon, else it would become irreversible."

"The full moon?" Han asked. "That's tonight."

"Exactly, we have less than twenty-four hours to find the witch, to find a mysterious pot boiling in her coven, and then destroy it," I muttered and turned to Leia. "Can you watch over her for me?" I asked.

"Yes. Where are you going?" she asked.

"I need to talk to Elara. Perhaps she knows where I can find the witch."

Leia's brows creased. "Who's Elara?

"A maiden who believes she has a gift of divination," Han replied, "But her parents think she's mad."

"Elara was the first person to talk about the pot, the thread of life. I believe she can help us."

"In this storm?" Leia asked.

"Yes, you read the writing of this book, right?" I asked, handing the tome back to her. "We need to act fast. I need to know where to find the witch."

Randolph stepped forward. "I would join Emily in keeping watch over Princess Emily."

A smile flickered across my face. "Thank you, Randolph."

"And I guess I'm coming with you," Han said, and I replied with a nod.

With one last glance at my mate, still sleeping in the room, I waltzed out of the top floor.

The rain fell in thick sheets as Han and I exited the mansion and stepped into our carriage. We steered out of the castle, for the city. The horses snorted, their hooves splashing mud up the carriage's wheels as we rode at speed.

Another bolt of lightning illuminated, and it was rewarded by a loud thunder. The winds howled at the carriage's windows with a relentless force.

The streets of Tyr remained empty, except for an empty basket rolling in the wind.

At last, the convoy pulled to a stop before a wattle-and-daub cottage, its walls a patchwork of clay, straw, and timber. It was cracked and crumbling in places where time had worn it thin. "There it is-Elara's cottage," Han announced.

Someone peeked through the cottage's window and immediately hurried away. I took a deep breath.

My boots sank in the rain-soaked earth as I made my way to the house. Han followed closely, holding an umbrella over my head.

Arriving at the wooden door, I knocked.

Creak! The door opened, and two familiar faces stood at the threshold. Elara's parents.

"His Majesty!" They dipped in a bow and curtsey, trembling slightly as they straightened. "It's late. My Lord. What brings you out here in such a storm?"

Elara's father asked.

"I need to speak with Elara," I said firmly.

"It's urgent."

The couple exchanged glances and stepped aside. "Of course, Your Majesty.

Come in, then," the man beckoned.

Han and I stepped into the dimly lit cottage, shaking off the dampness that clung to our cloaks. The inside smelled of damp earth and old herbs, a mixture of decay and something strangely sweet. A fire burned low in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the rough-hewn wooden furniture.

The woman wrung her hands together before nodding toward an adjoining room. "Wait here." She disappeared through a tattered curtain, her husband Jingering by the doorway, watching us with wary eyes.

Moments later, the curtain rustled again, and Elara came forward. "It's too late. The thread of life has been cast into the pot," she said.

My heart sank. "I learned the spell could be broken. Can it?"

"It can, but it will cost you. A blood for blood...A destiny for a destiny."

"Do you know where this pot is-the witch's lair?" I asked.

Elara hesitated, wringing the edge of her tattered shawl between her fingers. "Beyond the town's reach, where the earth rises to whisper to the sky. An unseen mouth yawns wide, swallowing all who enter. A place untouched by light, where echoes have no end and the air is thick with the whispers of the lost."

My gaze darted to Han, the confusion in his eyes mirroring mine. "Can you please elaborate?" I asked.

Elara opened her mouth to speak, but before a single word could escape her Vips, her body jerked violently as if struck by an invisible force. Her eyes rolled back, and she let out a strangled gasp before collapsing to the floor.

"Elara!" her mother screamed, rushing to her side.

A sudden gust of wind tore through the room, though no door or window had opened. The fire in the hearth flickered wildly.

Han took a step backward. "What's going on?"

"She's under attack," I replied.

Elara's back arched unnaturally, her mouth opening in a silent scream. Her father joined them on the floor.

Her mother sobbed, clutching at her daughter's trembling hands. "Do something! Please!"

Then, as abruptly as it had started, the convulsions ceased. Elara's body sagged, her breathing ragged, her skin clammy with sweat. The sinister presence lifted, retreating like a shadow dissolving into the air.

Han and I exchanged a tense glance.

A rambunctious thunder shook the earth and suddenly, a knock rapped on the door. Our heads snapped in the direction.

"Are you expecting anyone?" I asked, turning to the couple.

"No." They shook their heads. A slithering tension swept through the room.

"Do we open it?" Han asked, his lycanthrope threatening to make his appearance.

I walked to the door. I hesitated briefly, and then yanked it open. My gaze settled on the last person I expected to see.

"Randolph?" He stood with two palatial guards.

"My Lord, w-we have a problem in the castle," he stammered.