The Play-Toy Of Three Lycan Kings-Chapter 429: To save

SAGE

Worry, fear, anger, and hurt collided inside me all at once, a violent storm with no mercy and no center, as Freda crumpled to the ground.

One moment she had been standing beside me, and the next she plunged to the ground in a lifeless heap, as though her bones had simply given up.

My scream strangled itself before it could escape.

I dropped with her, knees slamming into the stone as I gathered her into my arms, dragging her close as if my body alone could anchor her to this world.

"No! No... no!" The word spilled from me in fragments, breathless, broken.

Her weight started to feel wrong. Too loose. Too light.

I felt it instantly—the ebbing of her life force, the slow but merciless unraveling of her energy, the corrosive black magic still crawling beneath her skin.

The magic ball that had struck her back had not merely wounded flesh—it had burrowed inward, amplifying itself with dark intent, chewing through her from the inside.

I brushed trembling fingers through her hair, dabbing at blood, at sweat, at tears I hadn’t realized were spilling.

Blood wept from my eyes as I begged her to stay with me, my voice splintering into ragged fragments. I barely registered the world beyond us. Barely cared about the attacker. Barely cared about anything except the woman fading in my arms.

"Stay," I whispered hoarsely. "Please. Stay with me."

I reached inward, dragging at my power, at El’s energy, at every ancient thread within me—and pushed it toward Freda.

But the moment I began, I felt how close she was to slipping away. Too close. Too fragile. One wrong push, and I might tear her apart instead of saving her.

Freda stirred weakly. Her hand rose with effort, trembling, barely obeying her. She caught my wrist.

"Don’t," she murmured.

I shook my head violently. "No. I won’t lose you. I won’t."

Her fingers tightened barely on mine. "You need the energy," she rasped. "For the queen. She’s... stronger than she looks. Black magic... layered deep..."

"Stop," I whispered desperately. "Stop talking like this."

Her lips curved in a soft heartbreaking smile. She lifted her hand, brushing my cheek with trembling affection.

"I love you," she breathed.

Then her hand slipped, shattering me into bits.

"No!" The scream tore free this time, an animal-like thing that shook my ribcage, just as rage detonated inside my chest.

I eased Freda down gently, using magic to cradle her, to preserve what remained of her strength, her energy, her fading life force. I poured power into sealing and stabilizing it, refusing to let her simply vanish from this world.

It drained me.

I felt the cost instantly—my limbs growing heavier, my breath hitching, my core dimming slightly.

But the ancient power in me held firm. So, I rose slowly to my feet. And finally, I looked at the person who had done this.

Hendel.

He stood a few paces away, posture relaxed, expression faintly amused—as though he had merely knocked over a glass instead of shattering a life.

"I would enjoy ending you," he said smoothly. "I’ve always wanted to. Ever since you were Dora. Ever since you carried that arrogance like a crown."

His mouth kept moving. He didn’t finish the sentence. I moved too fast. Faster than his reflexes. Faster than his spellwork. Faster than his arrogance.

One heartbeat, I was standing over Freda.

The next, my hand was around Hendel’s throat.

His mouth fell open in shock.

While my eyes burned with power, blazing white-hot with fury, ancient energy roaring outward in violent waves, my fingers tightened around his neck.

The force of it destabilized him instantly—scrambling his magic, tangling his control, cutting him off from the black spells the queen had gifted him.

"How—" he choked.

I didn’t let him speak. Fire coiled into existence in my free hand, summoned not with grace, but with wrath. I slammed it onto his head. Muted his screams with magic as sound tried to tear itself loose.

Flames devoured him while I watched coldly.

His hair ignited first, curling and shriveling, blackening instantly. His skin blistered, split, peeled away beneath the heat. His pleading twisted into frantic, silent terror as the fire ate downward—across his forehead, into his eyes, through his nose.

I watched without blinking. No mercy. No hesitation. No regret.

He writhed when I threw him to the ground, body thrashing in agony, limbs twitching as the fire reduced him to char and ruin.

Part of me actually wanted it slower. More painful. But this would suffice. I waited until he burned to nothing but ash.

"Rot in hell," I murmured coldly. Then I turned back to Freda.

I bent, lifting her carefully into my arms. She felt too still. Too quiet.

"Far be it from me to let you die," I whispered fiercely, immediately shifting to mist highly charged with energy. Speed claimed me... a reckless things considering what I had to do, but I thought it necessary.

I moved faster than wind. Each second tore more energy from me, but I ignored the cost. Home loomed in my mind—the place where Laura waited. The place where healing still had a chance.

The protective barrier shimmered as I approached. It still stood. Thank the goddess.

I believed the queen must have tried to break it—must have attempted to reach my family, eliminate loose ends, erase threats from her board.

I slipped through the field without dismantling it, carrying Freda with me, reforming as I crossed the threshold.

As my boots hit solid ground, my arms tightened around Freda and I sprinted toward the central hut, breath ragged, chest tight, heart hammering like war drums.

"Laura," I whispered under my breath. "Please. Please still be here."

I shoved the door open. And froze.

My jaw slackened as surprise stole the breath from my lungs.

Makeh stood inside, even smiling at me. As if she had anticipated my presence.

For a heartbeat, I wondered if exhaustion had finally driven me into hallucination.

"Makeh?"