Married To The Billionaire Alpha King-Chapter 96 - he sees everything

96

~Elara’s POV

I shook my head wildly. "Then let me stay with him," I begged. "Do not leave him alone. Do not curse him to watch the world die again and again."

The moon goddess then came back to me in the shield.

Her gaze softened just a little, and that small change gave me hope, fragile and desperate.

"Immortality is not a gift," she said. "It is a lesson."

I laughed bitterly through my tears. "Lessons are meant to teach," I said. "This will only destroy him."

She looked past me again, toward the endless stretch of time that only she could see. "He will endure," she said. "And one day, when your soul finds its way back to him, his suffering will end."

"When?" I screamed. "After how many lifetimes? After how much pain?"

She did not answer.

The light around her began to fade again, stronger this time, pulling her away.

"Moon Goddess," I shouted, my voice cracking completely. "You are cruel. You are heartless. You stand above us and call it fate because you do not feel what we feel."

The shield trembled faintly, reacting to my pain, but it still did not break.

"You took my breath," I sobbed. "You took my future. And now you leave him cursed and broken. I will never forgive you for this."

For the first time, something like sadness crossed her face. "Forgiveness is not mine to seek," she said quietly.

And then she was gone.

The light vanished.

I sank to my knees inside the shield, my strength finally giving out. "I am here," I whispered desperately, though I knew he could not hear me. "I am still here. Please do not give up."

He lifted his head slowly, his eyes empty, staring at nothing, and I felt the weight of the curse settle fully into the world.

I pressed my forehead to the invisible barrier, crying softly, knowing that eternity had just begun for him.

I watched time move in a way that did not feel real anymore.

At first, it was slow, heavy, like every day was dragging its feet because even the world was tired of what had happened. Darlon ruled, but he did not live. That was the only way I could explain it. He breathed, he walked, he spoke when needed, but nothing inside him felt alive again.

The palace changed. The people changed. Faces I knew grew older, slower, then disappeared. New ones came, wide eyed at first, then fearful. Always fearful.

And Darlon stayed the same.

He ruled with silence before he ruled with fear. At the beginning, he barely spoke to anyone. He sat on his throne like a shadow, listening, watching, judging with eyes that no longer softened for anyone. When people spoke to him, their voices shook.

"Alpha," they would say, bowing low. "We seek your judgment."

He would stare at them for a long moment before answering. "Speak," he would say, his voice flat, empty.

If they lied, he knew. I do not know how, but he always knew. And when he punished, it was cold and final.

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to beg him to stop turning into someone I barely recognized.

"This is not you," I whispered from inside the shield again and again. "You used to listen. You used to care."

But he could not hear me. He never could.

As years passed, word spread far beyond our lands. Other packs whispered his name like a warning. Alpha Darlon. The ruthless one. The immortal one. The alpha who never aged and never forgave.

Other alphas came to challenge him at first. They were proud, strong, loud men who believed no one could rule forever.

"I will take your throne," one of them said once, standing in the great hall, chest puffed, voice full of confidence. "No man rules this long without falling."

Darlon stood slowly, his movements calm, almost bored. "You are free to try," he replied.

The fight did not last long. I watched blood spill across stone floors that had been cleaned so many times before. I watched another alpha fall, eyes wide with shock, realizing too late that legends were often true.

After that, fewer came to challenge him.

Those who did not fight chose a different path. They bowed.

"We acknowledge you as the Alpha of Alphas," they said, kneeling before him. "Grant us your protection."

He looked down at them, his expression unreadable. "Rule your people well," he said. "If you fail them, I will not be kind."

Fear spread faster than loyalty ever could. Packs obeyed not because they loved him, but because they were terrified of becoming his enemy.

I hated that.

"You were never meant to rule like this," I cried once, my voice echoing uselessly inside my prison. "You were meant to protect, not terrorize."

But time did not stop for my wishes.

Century passed.

I watched seasons change thousands of times. I watched cities rise and fall. I watched wolves who had once been children grow into elders and then vanish into dust. Through it all, Darlon remained. His hair stayed dark. His face stayed sharp. His eyes stayed haunted.

At night, when the palace was quiet, he would walk alone through empty halls. Sometimes he stopped in front of the chamber that had once been ours. He never entered.

"I can still smell her," he whispered once, his voice breaking in a way he never allowed others to hear. "I know she was here."

My heart shattered all over again. "I am here," I sobbed. "I never left you."

He searched endlessly. He questioned priests, witches, seers, anyone who claimed to know something about souls and rebirth.

"Tell me how to find her," he demanded more times than I could count. "Tell me where her soul went."

Some lied to gain favor. Some told half truths. Some simply shook their heads in fear.

"There is nothing," one old seer said carefully. "Some bonds are broken by fate."

Darlon’s eyes darkened. "Then fate will answer to me one day," he replied.

His love never faded. Neither did his grief. They twisted together until they became something sharp and dangerous.

By the time one hundred century passed, he was no longer just a ruler. He was a myth. A warning mothers told their children. A name spoken only in whispers by alphas who ruled entire regions.

"He has lived forever," they said. "He cannot be killed. He sees everything."

And still, in quiet moments, he searched for me.

He stood under the moon so many nights, his face lifted, his voice low and raw. "If you can hear me, Elara," he said once, fists clenched at his sides, "I am still waiting."

I pressed my hands against the shield, tears streaming down my face. "I am waiting too," I whispered back. "Every moment."

Power did not heal him. Recognition did not fill the hollow inside his chest. Fear did not replace love.

He carried me with him through every battle, every throne room, every lonely night. In his anger. In his silence. In his dreams.

And I carried him too, watching, loving, breaking again and again as time refused to give us mercy.