Chapter 242

Charles

I watched from the side, my heart twisting in my chest as Grace crushed the paper in her hand and whirled on Eason.

Her voice, raw with emotion, echoed across the clearing.

"What did you do to me?" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "You took years off my life! How could you do this to me?"

Eason looked utterly defeated. He didn't defend himself, didn't try to explain. He simply hung his head and muttered, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She hissed, throwing the page at him. "Sorry?!"

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking at the end. "I really--"

"Apologies don't bring back the time you've taken from me!" Grace shrieked. "You've basically killed me!"

Eason flinched. He went pale, and for a long time he said nothing.

She shoved him. "Is this payback?"

"Grace," I tried to stop her, but he didn't defend himself, stumbling back every time she shove him.

"All this time you've just been waiting to really get me back? And now you're too guilty to say anything?"

I grabbed her, she tugged against me, noticeably weaker than before.

"Say something!"

His jaw trembled, but he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

"I didn't take the years from you." His eyes shuttered closed. Tears streamed down his face. "It wasn't a choice, Grace. My oaths…"

My gut lurched. Oaths. Healer oath? Witch healer, medical oaths? I looked over at Esme who looked grim, but not surprised. Was this about the curse? Eason had clearly known, but...

"You swore oaths to kill me?" She choked.

"No," he said and turned his head. "My oaths are... more encompassing than Hippocratic Oaths--" He winced. "You... don't know what that is."

He rubbed the back of his neck. My stomach sank as I held Grace back. I knew which oaths he had to have sworn, the ones that Selene made people with magical ability in the healing field swear were encompassing, but Eason was a bonafide magical healer...

There was only one oath he could have sworn. I didn't want to confirm it, but I had to.

"Eason... Did you swear the Goddess Axiom?"

His jaw trembled, but he nodded. "Among other ones."

I grimaced. "Protective?"

He nodded. "I picked... the most comprehensive ones because of what they said about my magical talent... and trauma and..." he glanced at Grace. "Resentment."

Grace growled.

"All together, they compel me to do a lot of things. They affect how I can use my magic in many ways."

Grace scoffed. "Liar!" she spat, her voice laced with venom. "You could have done something else! You could have done anything else! I was supposed to have at least a decade even before the drug!"

The raw pain in her voice tore at me, but there was nothing she could do. If what I guessed was right, Eason had done everything possible to protect anyone from his power. I bit my lip. The oaths had to be the reason he slipped into trances so quickly.

"The men you killed..."

Eason nodded stiffly. "Physically."

His magic couldn't even defend him? Shit.

"Grace, I know you're angry, and you should be. I... hate it. Even though I know that if I had let it go on any longer..." he shuddered. "There wouldn't have been enough longevity and leveling potions in the world to keep you steady. You wouldn't have even made it to Cecil's birthday at the rate the curse was degrading you."

My breath hitched. Cecil's birthday? But that was only a few short weeks away! A cold dread washed over me as I realized the true gravity of the situation. The curse was far worse than I had imagined, far more aggressive. I looked down at Grace, but she looked in complete disbelief.

She seemed frozen in place, the color draining from her face. Her body trembled as she processed Eason's words. A strangled sob escaped her lips, and she crumpled to her knees. The paper drifted into the air and tumbled through the air through the air like a butterfly.

Eason came closer and knelt in front of her, his touch tentative, unsure. "Grace, I…"

But she flinched away from him, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and loathing. The anger that had fueled her tirade just moments ago had been replaced by a chilling despair.

I knelt beside her as well, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Grace," I said softly, my voice thick with concern.

"We'll figure this out. We'll find a way."

But as I looked into her eyes, I saw a flicker of something that worried me more than the curse itself. It was a look of utter defeat, a sense of resignation that chilled me to the bone.

A strangled sob escaped Eason's lips, tears glistening on his cheeks.

"Grace, I never wanted it to be this way," he choked out, his voice thick with despair. "I just… I just wanted to buy you more time."

His words hung heavy in the air, a desperate plea for understanding. Shame and regret radiated from him in waves.

"I knew it was worse," he continued, his voice barely a whisper. "When we met Avery… her reaction, the paranoia and fear, the flashbacks... the dosages burning off so quickly… I knew something was wrong. But I didn't know what. It wasn't until Esme explained the curse…"

He trailed off, his voice breaking on a sob. "I'm so sorry, Grace. I am. I've been trying to work out some other way. You have to believe me. Trying to get a better handle on my magic, to find a way to help. It's slow going, but I'm…"

His voice hitched again, his words dissolving into choked apologies. The raw pain in his voice resonated with me. My anger melted away in the face of Eason's genuine remorse.

Grace, however, was completely silent. Her gaze fixed on a distant point, a thousand emotions swirling in her eyes. The storm of anger had passed, leaving behind a desolate landscape of despair.

I squeezed her shoulder gently, offering silent support. I understood her pain, the crushing weight of the shortened lifespan, knowing that she was unsure that she'd make it to any of the milestones for her children. But Eason's words, his genuine sorrow, struck a chord of doubt within me.

At this point, if he was driven to sever her lycan side to save her life, was there anything more he could do? The question hung heavy in the air, unanswered.

Finally, after a moment that stretched into eternity, Grace turned to Eason, her voice devoid of emotion.

"What am I supposed to think, Eason?" she asked.

Eason met her gaze, his own filled with desperate hope.

"I'm trying to help," he said, his voice firm despite the tremor that ran through him. "I'm trying to save you, Grace. You irritate the shit out of me, but I love you, and I wouldn't have taken all of those oaths if I wanted to hurt you."

His words were heavy and real, yet the memory of what he'd said felt even heavier. As I watched Grace study Eason's face, searching for the lie, I knew he was telling the truth. She dropped her head and let out a loud sob. The raw agony in Grace's sobs tore at my heart.

"Come on," I said. "Let's get you inside, okay?"

She came, turning into my arms and clinging to me as she cried. Eason didn't move, seemingly stuck in place. Maybe he was in a trance again. I guided her back towards the house.

As we entered the house, George emerged from the kitchen, his brow furrowed in concern. His gaze flicked between Grace's trembling form and out behind us.

"What's happened?"

I looked back at Eason. "I think he needs you."

George looked pale and he nodded before going outside.

I heard him and Esme talking as I got Grace into the living room. We sat down, and I rocked her gently.

I heard him crying and Esme trying to soothe him.

"Come on," George said. "I... I'll get Ethan, we'll head out for a little while, okay?"

"But Grace…" he began, his voice hoarse.

"She'll be alright, for now," Esme said gently. "You need to take care of yourself."

As they walked out the door, a heavy silence settled over the house, broken only by Grace's soft sobs. Esme came in and sat beside us.

She sniffled and rubbed her face.

"I need to call my husband," she croaked, her voice hoarse.

I nodded. "I think that would be best."

She nodded. "You'll... take care of her?"

I nodded. She stood and walked away.

I took Grace's hand. "We'll get through this, Grace."

I was sure that I'd do anything to make that true. Yet, even as I said it, I couldn't see a way forward.

Five years.

I remembered my aunt's words and Eason's warning. Could it even matter if you couldn't swear the oath if she wasn't going to be alive over the first matter?