CHAPTER 194: WHAT IT MEANS TO STAY

Varen

The moment I stepped into the hut, I froze.

The air was thick with smoke, blood, and something far worse—desperation. The scent of burnt herbs and dark magic stung my throat. My eyes darted wildly, struggling to make sense of the chaos in front of me.

Kiel was slumped against the wall, his face pale, his chest heaving faintly. His shirt was soaked through with blood. Just beside him lay Josie, motionless—her skin ghostly white, her lips trembling as though she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the strength.

For a heartbeat, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know who to go to first.

"Kiel!" I rasped finally, dropping to my knees beside him. His head lolled to the side, and I cursed under my breath, shaking him lightly. "Open your eyes, dammit. Look at me!"

Nothing.

I gritted my teeth, pressing two fingers to his neck until I found a faint pulse. Relief washed through me, though it was sharp and fleeting. "You’re not dying, not like this," I muttered, half to him, half to myself.

I dragged his limp body to a wooden chair, my hands shaking as I tried to steady him. "Stay with me, brother. You hear me? Stay."

Still nothing.

"Damn it, Kiel!" I snarled, shoving the chair so hard it scraped against the floor. "Don’t you dare close your eyes!"

His head tilted, and I saw a flicker—a twitch of his jaw. I exhaled shakily, brushing his hair from his face. "Good. That’s good. Just... hold on."

Then a weak voice called my name. "Varen..."

I turned instantly. Josie’s eyes were half-open, her gaze unfocused, her voice broken like glass. She was trying to say something, her lips forming words I couldn’t catch.

I crawled toward her, gripping her trembling hand. "Hey, hey, don’t talk. I’m here. I’ll get you both out of here, okay? But I need to take care of something first."

She blinked slowly, tears sliding down her temples. I wanted to tell her everything would be fine, but I couldn’t lie. Not now.

I stood, forcing my legs to move. The smell of burnt ozone and blood made me gag, but I ignored it. Liam’s broken body lay sprawled across the floor. I didn’t even hesitate—I grabbed him by the arms, dragging his corpse outside into the clearing. The warriors who had followed behind me appeared just then, eyes wide with horror.

"Get what we need," I ordered hoarsely. "We’re burning the bodies. All of them."

They hesitated for a second, but one look at my face sent them moving. When they returned with oil and flint, I stripped off my gloves and started the process myself.

The flames roared to life, crackling in the damp air. The witches’ bodies went first, their twisted forms crumbling into ash. When I reached Liam’s, I didn’t say a word—I just watched the fire consume him until all that was left was smoke. The skin on my fingers peeled away from the heat, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

When it was done, I turned back to the hut, my throat tight.

Inside, Kiel was awake—barely. He groaned when I lifted him again, his head falling weakly to the side. "Grab the... cone," he murmured.

I frowned. "What cone?"

He motioned vaguely toward the table, where a strange crystal object sat glowing faintly under a piece of torn cloth. I didn’t understand what it was or why it mattered, but Kiel’s tone was final.

"Just take it," he rasped. "Please."

I did. It felt cold and alive at the same time, like it pulsed beneath my skin. I stuffed it into my satchel and met Kiel’s fading eyes.

"What does it mean?" I asked quietly.

He shook his head, exhaling shakily. "I don’t know anymore," he muttered. "I just want peace."

By the time we made it back to the pack mid-afternoon, I was half running, half carrying them. My body was screaming from exhaustion, but I couldn’t stop. Not until we reached the pack house.

The warriors trailed behind, silent and grim. I barked orders the moment we crossed the gates. "Get Thorne here now!"

When they hesitated, I snapped, "Now!"

They ran.

Inside, I made makeshift beds with my own hands. I tore down sheets, dragged mattresses together, anything that could hold them. The room smelled like blood and sweat, but at least it was home.

Kiel was the first I placed down, his breathing shallow. Josie followed, her body limp against my arms.

"Don’t you two dare leave me," I muttered, pressing my palms to my eyes. "Not you, not now."

Kiel stirred suddenly, his voice faint. "Varen..."

I turned immediately. "Don’t talk. You need rest."

He ignored me, his lips trembling. "Let me... give Thorne my heart. Let him live."

My throat closed. "You’re not dying, you idiot," I snapped, grabbing his hand. "We’ve lost enough already. You’re not adding to that list."

He gave a weak laugh, then went quiet again.

The seer arrived soon after, her robes fluttering behind her as she rushed into the room. "We need to heal Josie first," she said briskly. "The doctor will tend to Kiel."

I nodded numbly, stepping back to let them work. But the longer I watched, the more something in me twisted.

At one point, the seer’s gaze snapped to mine. "Alpha," she said softly. "She needs privacy. A space apart."

My head jerked up. "No."

Her brows furrowed. "Varen—"

"I said no." My voice cracked through the air like a whip. "She’s my mate. I barely feel our bond anymore, and it’s my fault. I failed to protect her once. I won’t fail again."

"Your emotions will disturb the ritual," she warned.

"I don’t care," I said flatly. "I stay."

The air went tense, heavy. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, waiting for me to yield. But I didn’t.

Finally, the seer sighed, her shoulders sinking. "Fine. Then we must move the bed closer to the window. Separate the others with a blanket barrier. The moonlight will help stabilize her flow."

I spun toward the maids. "You heard her. Move it!"

They jumped into action, dragging the bed closer to the window. I grabbed a thick blanket and hung it as a divider, my hands trembling slightly. When it was done, the seer began chanting again, sprinkling herbs over Josie’s chest.

I couldn’t stop pacing. Every sound from her, every twitch, every groan made my stomach knot tighter.

"Alpha," the doctor said finally, glaring at me. "Get out. You’re distracting everyone."

"I’m not leaving her."

"Then stand still or be silent!"

I clenched my fists but stayed by the window, watching as Josie’s breathing turned shallow.

"She’s losing power," the seer muttered suddenly. "The energy flow is collapsing."

My heart lurched. "Then fix it!"

"I’m trying!"

I swallowed hard, panic crawling under my skin. "There has to be another way," I whispered. "Something to anchor her soul back."

The seer gave me a look like I’d lost my mind. "Unless you can perform ancient soulcraft, there’s nothing you can do."

An idea sparked in my head, absurd and wild. "I heard once," I said slowly, "that... that sometimes, physical connection—intimacy—can restore a link. Between mates. It rebalances the bond."

The seer’s head snapped up, her expression horrified. "What?"

"I’m serious."

"You’re insane," she snapped. "That is not how magic healing works!"

"Maybe not in your scrolls," I said quietly, "but I’ve seen it work. She needs me."

A weak whisper cut through the tension. "Varen..."

Josie’s voice. Barely audible, but real.

I was at her side in seconds. "I’m here. Tell me what you need."

She blinked slowly, her lashes fluttering like feathers. "Just... hold my hand," she whispered. "That’s enough. And... tell someone to bring plants. Flowers. The seer knows what to do once they arrive."

The seer frowned, clearly insulted. "You’re not in a position to give orders, dear girl."

"Do it," I barked.

"But—"

"There’s no time for your pride!" I snapped, my voice sharp as steel. "You do exactly as she says."

I didn’t wait for an answer. I stripped off my bloodstained coat and climbed onto the bed beside Josie. She was freezing—her skin like ice against mine. I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her as if I could transfer my warmth into her.

"Hold on," I murmured into her hair. "You’re going to be fine. You have to be."

Through the mindlink, I reached out to a maid. Bring all the flowers from the garden. Now. You have five minutes.

The seer gave me a glare but said nothing.

A few minutes later, I heard footsteps. The maid appeared at the door, arms overflowing with lilies, daisies, and wild roses. The seer snatched them from her, muttering something under her breath as she began to lay them in patterns around the bed—just as Josie had asked.

The scent filled the room, soft and bittersweet.

Josie’s breathing steadied a little, her fingers twitching in mine. I brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed her forehead.

"You’ll be fine now," I whispered, my voice cracking. "You have to be."

Outside, the moonlight poured through the window, bathing her in silver. For the first time that night, I let myself hope.