Zevryn placed his hand gently over the girl's head, his palm trembling as it rested on her tangled hair. A deep wound marred her scalp, blood seeping sluggishly from the gash, mingling with the dirt that clung to her skin.
His gaze trailed lower, and his chest tightened with every injury he counted. Cuts, bruises,marks, her fragile body bore them all like cruel medals of suffering.
He had faced countless battles, seen death rip through armies, yet nothing tore his heart so viciously as seeing her like this.
She looked exactly like his Liliath.
Even if Kaelith's rational words echoed in his mind that this couldn't be her, Zevryn clung desperately to the flicker of hope blazing in his chest.
What if? What if fate, in its twisted mercy, had brought her back to him? What if this broken, bloodied figure truly was his beloved wife, his queen?
His jaw clenched as he pressed the edge of his hand against his palm, drawing a bead of crimson from his skin. With reverence, he let his blood drip onto her wound, watching as it seeped into the torn flesh.
The moment his blood mingled with hers, a strange glow pulsed beneath her skin. Slowly, impossibly, her wounds began to vanish, knitting together as if they had never been there at all.
Zevryn's breath hitched. Relief and anguish struck him in equal measure, his chest tightening until he felt he could scarcely breathe. He didn't wait, he scooped her into his arms with a tenderness that belied his immense strength and carried her to the riverbank.
The waters of Elandor shimmered faintly under the moonlight, the current whispering as if it knew secrets mortals could never hold. Kneeling at the edge, Zevryn dipped his hands into the cool stream and brought handful after handful of water to wash the blood from her face. He brushed aside the strands of hair clinging to her damp skin, revealing features that sent another wave of pain slicing through him.
The resemblance was too much, it was her face, her lips, her fragile nose… his Liliath's image staring back at him, even in this fragile state.
Behind him, Kaelith stepped closer, his boots crunching softly on the rocky soil. He tilted his head toward the pale light of the moon, measuring the passing time.
The silver disc hung lower, warning that dawn would soon arrive. "Your Majesty," Kaelith spoke quietly, but with urgency, "we cannot linger. Should we take her with us? You can ask her what you need once she wakes. But if we delay, the news of us leaving the castle will spread. We must return before sunrise."
Zevryn didn't answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on the woman in his arms, his thumb unconsciously stroking her cheek as if trying to anchor himself in the moment.
His heart tore at the crossroads of reason and longing. The logical part of him whispered that Kaelith was right, this could be anyone, a stranger who wore the cruel mask of his wife's face. But his soul… his soul screamed otherwise.
What if she was truly Liliath? What if the gods, after years of torment, had shown mercy and returned what was stolen from him? The war between what ifs stormed inside his head, clawing at his sanity.
And then—
"Elara! … Elara!…"
The desperate cry tore through the silence of the woods, sharp enough to freeze both men in place.
Zevryn's head snapped up, his crimson eyes narrowing in alarm, while Kaelith instantly straightened, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
The voice echoed again, raw with panic, calling the same name again and again.
"Elara!"
Kaelith turned, his gaze fixed on the shifting shadows between the trees. Zevryn's grip on the unconscious woman tightened protectively, his body angling as though to shield her from sight.
Both waited, tense, as footsteps approached, breaking branches and crunching leaves underfoot.
And then, from the darkness of the forest, a figure emerged, a woman dressed plainly, her clothes worn but clean, her hair pulled back hastily as though she had run for miles. Her voice cracked as she shouted the name again, her face pale with worry.
Kaelith looked at the woman and then at the girl lying down in Zevryn's arms, his sharp eyes connecting the dots almost instantly.
A bitter sigh escaped his lips, and he muttered with quiet finality, "I think we won't have to wait to know who this girl is." His voice was calm but laced with the weight of reluctant certainty.
He glanced at Zevryn once more, his gaze softening with an unspoken warning. He knew what this meant, knew what truth lingered between the lines. This girl wasn't Liliath.
She couldn't be. And though Kaelith understood how much Zevryn's heart still ached for the woman he had lost, there was no denying the truth standing right before them. As much as it would shatter Zevryn, this girl was not liliath.
That was when the woman's eyes finally landed on them, on Zevryn holding the unconscious girl in his arms. Her breath hitched violently, as though her lungs had forgotten how to function.
"Elara…" The name trembled out of her throat, thick with desperation and relief all at once. Her voice cracked, broken by exhaustion from searching the entire night.
Her knees nearly buckled beneath her as the sight confirmed what she had both feared and prayed for: she had found Elara.
Tears burned in her eyes as her vision blurred. Her chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, every breath carrying the agony of imagining what the girl must have endured.
The countless hours she had spent combing the forest, guided only by blind faith, finally bore fruit. Yet seeing Elara now, so still, so fragile, carved a fresh wound in her heart.
She had known the cruel consequences of bearing Lucian's mark while he so callously marked another she-wolf. The torment would ravage Elara's body.
She remembered sitting in that council hall, her hands clenched in helpless fists as the decree was given. Her lips had trembled, her voice had begged to rise in protest, to defend Elara's innocence.
But reason and fear kept her silent. No matter how much she wanted to scream, she knew the verdict was final. Speaking out would do nothing but draw suspicion onto herself, perhaps even doom Elara further.
So she had chosen the only path she could: to watch, to follow, to protect in secret. She had told herself she would make sure Elara lived through the night, that she would find her after the guards abandoned her in the forest.
But when she tried to follow the guards, they had disappeared as if swallowed by the darkness. Panic had clawed at her throat as she was forced to search blindly, guided only by the pounding in her chest and the desperate whispers of her wolf.
Hours bled into eternity. Her legs ached, her throat burned, her prayers grew hoarse. Yet she did not stop. She could not stop. Because giving up meant Elara would die alone.
And now—now she had found her.
By the river Elandor, in the arms of a man who radiated such raw power that her wolf cowered within her chest, instinctively bowing in submission.
His presence was suffocating, like standing at the foot of a mountain or under the shadow of a storm. Even at a distance, his aura crashed over her in relentless waves, reminding her that he was no ordinary man.
Her eyes darted quickly to the one beside him, a warrior clad in armor that caught the faint silver glow of the moon. He stood tall, rigid, like a sentinel forged from steel and battle scars.
His very stance spoke of discipline and lethality, the kind of man who could command an army or cut down enemies without hesitation.
The woman's heart raced, her mind torn between gratitude and fear. Who were these two? Why were they here with Elara? And most importantly—what did they want with her?
**Badom shoom!** ✨
Hi hi, it's me again (*￣▽￣)ノ Let's get the shameless part out of the way—my story still says *"not enough ratings"* (╥﹏╥). If you've got just a teeny-tiny moment, please drop a review? Doesn't have to be all sunshine and rainbows—tell me what you *really* think! (I promise I won't cry… too much).
Also, call me **Xuv**! (ﾉ>ω<)ﾉ Did you notice before? Or did I fail at self-intro like an NPC side character…
And yes… I wait for your comments like a kid waiting at the window for their parents to bring snacks home (ಥ﹏ಥ) I know, I know, I'm a clown. But you're my favorite audience 🎪✨
So yeah—keep supporting, keep roasting, keep dropping the powerstones!
Your fool, **Xuv**