#74 Ryanna Gives All

Ryanna Gives All
Ryanna POV

The battlefield was absolute chaos, but all I saw was Alpha Maelira slumped in my arms, blood pouring from the knife wound in her heart. My hands hovered over her chest, my silver fire magic blazing out of me like twin moons. Syrene’s voice was desperate in my head. “Ry, give her everything. Pull deeper than ever!”

I strained, tears streaking down my face, my makeup smeared to hell, blonde curls wild and stuck to my sweat-soaked skin. My amethyst necklace burned hot against my chest, pulsing as I dug into my demi-god power, deeper than I’d ever gone. My body shook, my muscles screamed, but I refused to stop. Silver light flooded into Maelira, her chest rising faintly.

Directorate witches and warlocks loyal to Maelira surrounded us, screaming and crying, pounding fists against the shimmering shield I hadn’t even realized I’d raised. “Let us help!” one warlock shouted, his voice breaking. But my magic held, an unbreakable wall of silver.

My vision blurred, tears mixing with sweat, my breathimg ragged as I poured everything I had into her. Maelira groaned, her eyes fluttering, and I gritted my teeth, pushing harder, every ounce of my power screaming to keep her alive. Syrene urged, “More, don’t let her go!” I was losing myself, but I didn’t care. She had turned for me, and I would not let her die.

Kaelan POV

I sprinted back onto the battlefield with Lucien, my golden fur already shed for skin, my heart pounding like a war drum. Ryanna knelt ahead, silver magic blazing like a fucking star, her body trembling over Maelira.

Lucien snarled beside me, his shadows lashing wildly. “Fuck, she’s giving Maelira her life force and doesn’t even know it! We’ve got to break that shield!” My wolf, Keir, roared in my head. “Save her, now!”

Ryanna’s face twisted with strain, her smeared makeup streaking down her cheeks, blonde curls a tangled halo of sweat and magic. My chest clenched.

I screamed through the bond, “Aedryos!” He had a vampire assassin pinned, chained in starfire bonds, but at my call he dropped the bastard and rushed over, his eyes burning like suns. One glance at the shield, and he drew a massive breath, then slammed his glowing fists forward.

The silver barrier shattered like glass. Ryanna gasped, the magic cutting off. Maelira’s chest lifted with a rattling breath, she was alive and whole, her wound gone like it had never existed. But Ryanna collapsed, limp as a rag doll.

I caught her before she hit the dirt, her body trembling and too light in my arms. “Fuck, Ryanna,” I whispered, eyes burning. I lifted my head and barked to the army, my voice sharp as a blade. “Who can portal us home? We need our healers now!”

Aedryos tilted his head, calm but fierce. “Golden wolf, I can do anything.” He traced glowing runes into the air, and a massive blue portal ripped open, shining into Castle StarFury’s courtyard.

Relief crashed through me. I clutched Ryanna tighter and turned to the Directorate survivors, wolves, witches, and warlocks loyal to Maelira, plus nearly twelve hundred Crescent Veil warriors. “You’re welcome at the castle,” I said firmly. Heads nodded, some faces streaked with tears, and they followed.

We poured through the portal, Lucien’s shadows thrashing, Rhydor gripping his axe, Darian’s pistol drawn, Dryke fuming smoke from his nose, and Aedryos steady as always. Behind us, a tide of broken but loyal soldiers streamed, a chaotic mix of species bound now by Ryanna’s sacrifice.

In StarFury’s healing ward, I laid her gently on a cot, her face pale, curls spilling across the pillow. Our healer, a wiry witch named Veyra, rushed over, hands glowing green. Jalynda and Torwyn burst in too, regal silks smeared with dirt, offering help.

But Aedryos pushed through, unmoved by titles or panic. He laid his palm over Ryanna’s heart, starfire glowing soft, then bent to kiss her brow. “She is fine,” he murmured. “She only needs rest.” Then he walked out, leaving silence in his wake.

Darian POV

The ward was quiet, save for the hum of StarFury’s stones, the castle’s sentience wrapping around us like a warm blanket. Ryanna lay still on the cot, blonde curls matted to her damp face, skin pale, her amethyst glinting faintly at her chest.

She didn’t stir. It was killing me.

The guys scattered across the room were shadows of themselves. Kaelan paced, golden eyes sharp with worry. Lucien sat rigid, his silver gaze locked on her, shadows twitching like restless snakes. Rhydor loomed statue-still, his black eyes burning. Dryke fumed smoke silently. Aedryos was conveniently absent, likely with that vampire scum he’d chained.

My wolf, Argyle, rumbled steady in my head. “She’s strong, Darian. Trust Aedryos. She’ll wake.”

I adjusted my shirt, my blue eyes flicking to her vitals glowing across the healer’s monitor, my nerd brain screaming for data to make sense of the chaos. Numbers weren’t comforting this time.

Veyra checked her pulse, hands still glowing faint. I couldn’t take sitting still anymore. “Gonna check on Maelira,” I muttered, pushing away from the cot. Kaelan nodded, Rhydor grunted, Lucien didn’t even blink.

StarFury’s stones pulsed steady beneath my boots as I walked down the hall to Maelira’s room. She sat upright in bed, silver-streaked hair falling loose, her alpha aura muted but steady. Her sharp eyes locked on mine. “How’s Ryanna?”

I leaned against the doorframe, grimacing. “Still unconscious. Aedryos says she’ll be fine. Just needs rest. We’re trusting him.” My gut twisted, replaying her collapse over and over.

Maelira’s face softened, a rare crack in her iron mask. “I won’t forget what she did. Pouring her life force like that…” Her voice broke, heavy with gratitude. “She saved me.”

I swallowed hard, throat tight. “That’s Ryanna.” I pushed off the frame before the moment got too heavy. “Thanks for turning on the Directorate.” That was all I said, then left.

Argyle’s voice steadied me. “She’s loyal now. Focus on the ritual.”

The library called to me like a magnet. Towering shelves groaned with tomes, the air thick with dust, parchment, and quiet magic. StarFury hummed low, guiding me like it wanted me in the right spot.

At a rune-carved table, I spread my notes, pulling tomes from Mistmoor and one older grimoire glowing faintly: Rites of Celestial Bonds.

I cracked it open, silver hair falling into my eyes as I scribbled. Ingredients glared back, moondust, phoenix ash, voidroot, siren’s breath. Trial myths danced across the margins. My chest tightened at the memory of Ryanna collapsing. If we didn’t perform the soul-binding, her life force would burn her out.

Argyle growled steady in my mind. “Dig in. Protect her. Anchor her.”

So I did, ink flying across the page, pages flipping, the castle humming louder, as if StarFury itself was promising: She will rise again.