Chapter 69

Raven

When I had killed Hannah, I thought that there was too much blood.

But now, as I watched Neil fall to the stone floor, as that guttural scream ripped from my throat, I knew that that was nothing compared to the blood pooling around him now.

He was losing too much blood to survive.

Before Castor could stop me, I had leapt down from the rafters, tearing the skin of my hands to shreds as I slid down a pillar and dropped to the floor. Pain lanced through my knees and ankles as I fell, but I didn’t care.

All I cared about was him.

Neil's skin had already gone pale and slick with sweat, his breath coming out in shallow gasps as I dropped to my knees beside him. My hands trembled as they cupped his face, brushing his damp hair back, my fingers already turning sticky with his blood.

“Stay with me,” I whispered, the words breaking apart as they left my mouth. “Neil, open your eyes.”

His lashes flickered but stayed closed. The weight of his head in my lap felt heavier than it should have, like already his muscles were giving out. The cloak around my shoulders pooled onto the stone floor, a dark stain spreading beneath it.

“Ah. So the little Werewolf whore has returned,” Edrick drawled from somewhere above me.

With tears streaming down my face, I looked up to see him standing there, blade dripping with my mate’s blood, eyes burning like two black coals. His lip curled up into a sneer as he tilted his head at me, like he was looking at something pathetic. Something already broken.

“You two will die together, then,” he said, raising his sword. “How sweet.”

My heart slammed against my ribs, but I didn’t move. I should have. I should have thrown myself over Neil, begged, fought, done something. But my body wouldn’t listen. I just sat there, paralyzed, my hands still pressed to Neil’s face.

Edrick stepped closer, the tip of his blade catching the light as he angled it toward Neil's chest.

No. No, I wouldn’t let him.

I moved on instinct, reaching down to the knife strapped to my thigh. My fingers closed around the hilt just as Edrick brought his blade down in one fluid motion.

The flash of steel blurred before I could think, but the blade never reached me.

Edrick’s body jerked suddenly, a choked gasp escaping his lips. His sword tumbled from his hand, clattering uselessly to the stone.

Neil’s hand was still wrapped around the hilt of my knife, the blade buried deep in Edrick’s chest, when I looked up.

Edrick’s eyes widened as he looked down at Neil, the realization dawning on him just a moment too late. He staggered backward, Neil pulling the knife free with a harsh twist that sent Edrick crashing to the floor.

Silence filled the room. Even the air seemed to hold its breath as Edrick's body slumped lifeless to the stone. He didn’t say a word before his lights went out.

I let out a shaky breath, my heart racing, but my eyes were fixed on Neil. He was still on his knees, my knife slick in his hand, his chest heaving.

“You… you were supposed to be…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Neil finally lifted his head, his gaze locking with mine. There was exhaustion in his eyes, but the corner of his mouth curved faintly, and I felt my throat tighten.

“You healed me,” he said softly, his voice rough but steady. Alive. His free hand brushed my cheek, and only then did I realize the dampness on my face.

Tears.

I had been crying without even realizing it.

Neil’s thumb wiped away one lingering tear, and his smile grew just slightly. “Guess that makes you my savior.”

Before I could respond, Castor and Ember pushed through the guards gathered near the entrance, rushing toward us. The tension in the room finally snapped like a rubber band pulled too taut as Ember dropped to her knees beside Neil, her hands flying to his shoulders.

“You idiot,” she muttered, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her relief. “You absolute bastard. I thought you were dead.”

“Not today,” Neil said, the faintest hint of a smirk touching his lips.

Serena was the last to approach, her steps slow and deliberate. Her eyes locked onto Neil, flicking between the knife in his hand and Edrick’s body sprawled lifeless behind us. I felt my stomach twist painfully.

I moved to pull away, but Neil’s hand tightened over mine, keeping me in place.

Serena’s gaze lingered on our joined hands for a long moment, something unreadable passing over her face.

“You must be Serena,” I started, the words catching in my throat. “I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted softly, shaking her head. Her eyes lowered to the pendant hanging around my neck, her expression shifting from guarded to something softer. Something knowing.

Serena stepped forward, her hand brushing mine as she reached for Neil. I thought, for a moment, that she was going to pull him toward her and reclaim him as her betrothed.

But instead, she took both of our hands and pressed them together.

Neil’s fingers curled around mine, his thumb brushing the back of my hand as Serena stepped back to give us space.

“I realize now that you are the Luna from the prophecy,” Serena said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It was never me. It was always you. And for that… I bless your union. Treat my friend well in life; that is all I ask.”

I stared at her, my breath catching in my throat. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think there was anything I could say. Not now, at least.

The Queen approached next, her face streaked with dried tears, but her eyes were bright and shining. With trembling hands, she held out the crown that had once sat on the King’s head.

Neil slowly rose to his feet and pulled me up with me, his grip still firm around my hand as he bowed his head. Blood stained his clothes and the floor around his feet, but it was just that now: a stain. No longer flowing.

I still couldn’t believe that I had healed him. I wasn’t even sure if I dared to believe it.

But I had.

The Queen placed the crown gently onto his head, her hands lingering against his hair for just a moment before she pulled away.

“All hail King Neil of the Lycans,” she said softly.

The room echoed with the chant, countless fists rising into the air. “All hail King Neil of the Lycans!”

Neil turned to me then, his deep blue eyes catching the light from the torches lining the throne room. The warmth in his gaze softened something deep inside of me, and it was all I could do not to melt into him.

“Will you stand by my side, Raven?” he asked quietly, his fingers brushing against the pendant around my neck. “As my Luna? As my Queen?”

He didn’t have to ask. I wasn’t sure why he had.

I swallowed hard, but instead of answering, I slowly unclasped his cloak from around my shoulders, stepping closer to drape it back over his—where it belonged. My fingers brushed against his throat as I fastened it, and I let them linger there as I met his eyes.

In that moment, I poured my answer into that single look.

Neil’s hand slid over mine, pulling me gently forward.

He led me toward the throne, his steps slow but certain. When he sat, his arm looped around my waist and tugged me down with him, settling me across his lap as he wrapped the cloak around the both of us.

“My Queen,” he whispered in my ear, pressing a gentle kiss to my jaw, my neck, my lips. “My Luna.”

I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders beneath his cloak. “My King,” I whispered, and it hit me then—I had dreamt about this moment. I had dreamt of being his, wrapped in his cloak, in his warmth and safety.

I was his Queen. And he was my King.

The room erupted again, raucous cheers filling the air.

“All hail King Neil and Queen Raven! Long may they reign!”