CHAPTER 159: CHAPTER 159: ASTRID’S GAMBIT

Kieran’s POV

The moment I stepped out of her room, the air felt different. Colder. Thinner.

Like some part of me had died in there with her.

I forced the weight off my chest, every step stiff and mechanical as I made my way down the corridor toward the other medical bay. I needed to clear my head, to focus. I didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. Not now.

The metallic door hissed as it slid open. Inside, Cyrin and Varya were hunched over vials, screens, and ancient tomes scattered across the table. The Ghosthound Queen lay unconscious on a reinforced steel slab at the center of the room, her hair a wild halo, her body motionless, but not for long.

They looked up the moment I stepped in.

"How much time do we have left?" I demanded.

Cyrin’s face was taut, drawn from sleepless hours and relentless pressure. "An hour. Maybe less. The wolfsbane is nearly out."

I ran a hand through my hair, pacing like a beast in a cage. "You still haven’t found anything? No way to keep her from tearing us all apart when she wakes up?"

"We’ve tried everything logical," Cyrin said, exasperated. "Sedatives. Blood binding. Mind barriers. Nothing holds for more than a few seconds. Her wolf tears through all of it."

I stopped in front of the table, my fists clenched. My mother, still and pale, was the image of tragedy and terror in one. "Then maybe we’re going about it wrong," I muttered.

Cyrin looked up.

I narrowed my eyes. "This bloodlust of hers... this madness... is it in her wolf, or her actual DNA?"

Cyrin blinked at me. "Her wolf."

"You’re sure?"

"Positive. I’ve studied her for years under your father’s orders. The violence, the psychosis, it’s all rooted in the consciousness of her wolf, not the human mind. It’s not chemical. It’s instinctual. Ferality amplified a hundred times."

I exhaled slowly. "Then don’t suppress her."

Cyrin tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

I looked at the Queen, my jaw tightening. "Lock her wolf. Seal it away."

There was a silence that hung in the air like a dropped blade.

"You’re talking about a magical containment ritual," Varya said softly.

"Yes," I replied. "One that seals the wolf inside, traps it behind the mental gates."

"But Kieran," Cyrin said gravely, "you can’t keep a wolf locked forever. Not a powerful one like hers. The pressure builds. Eventually, it’ll tear the seal apart."

"Then let’s worry about that when it happens," I snapped. "Right now, I need her awake and sane, not ripping everyone to pieces."

Cyrin hesitated, exchanging a look with his daughter. "We can try. But there are no guarantees. If we lock the wolf and she starts remembering her trauma.... she might still be unstable. And if the seal cracks..."

"Then we deal with it," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. "I’m not asking for forever. I’m asking for now."

Varya nodded slowly. "We’ll need Astrid. She’s the only one here who knows the runes and blood-casting strong enough to bind a wolf like hers."

"Then get her," I ordered. "Now."

Varya rushed out immediately.

I turned back to Cyrin, watching the gentle rise and fall of my mother’s chest. "Will this hurt her?"

"Not as much as it’ll hurt us if we don’t succeed," he muttered.

I stared at her for a long moment, then spoke low, more to myself than anyone else. "I hope you’ll forgive me mother."

Because for the second time tonight, I was choosing the lesser evil.

First Lorraine.

Now her.

My fingers curled into fists as I stared at the still body of the woman who once tucked me in with lullabies and kisses on my forehead... the woman who now held the power to decimate everything in her path if we didn’t stop her.

But still, this plan felt reckless. Dangerous. Costly.

And worse.... it required Astrid Voss again.

I turned to Cyrin, my voice low. "She just performed one of the most draining rituals in existence. She gave up twenty years of her life to bring Lorraine back. Can she really do this again? Will she survive it?"

Before he could answer, the steel door creaked open.

Varya returned, panting slightly, followed by Magnus.... and Astrid.

My breath caught in my throat.

She looked... older. Not just tired, not merely weary, older. Lines etched deep into her skin. Silver streaks in her once, sleek hair now dulled to near white. Her movements were sluggish, her strength dimmed. She’d barely had time to recover.

And yet.... she was here.

Cyrin stepped forward, quickly briefing her on what we needed, a magical wolf-lock binding ritual, complex, rare, volatile.

Astrid listened quietly, her expression unreadable, her eyes locked on my mother.

Then I stepped toward her, lowering my voice. "Astrid.... be honest with me. Can you do this?"

Before she could answer, Magnus moved in between us, shaking his head adamantly. "No. She can’t. Not again. She’s still recovering from the last ritual. Her body is barely holding together. She’ll bleed out or burn out before she completes even half of the runes. Kieran, this will kill her."

Astrid’s lips parted, her voice calm but resolute. "Magnus, stop."

He turned sharply. "No. I won’t. Not this time. You’re always doing this. Sacrificing yourself like your life doesn’t mean anything."

"If the Queen wakes up with no control, she’ll rip through this place in minutes," Astrid said evenly. "It won’t matter if I survive or not. We’ll all die."

"That doesn’t mean you should be the one...."

"She’s my responsibility too, Magnus," she cut in, her voice shaking now with quiet steel. "I use to serve under her, she is my Queen too and it is my responsibility to at least try to save her"

Astrid’s eyes found mine.

"I’ll do it, Your Majesty," she said. "Regardless of the cost, I’ll do it"

I felt something in me twist.

This woman, who had once been feared, loathed, respected in equal measure, was now offering her last breath for the sake of people who once hated her. I didn’t deserve this level of loyalty. But right now, I needed it.

I gave a short nod. "Prepare the room. Begin when you’re ready."