Chapter 10: The Price of a Heart

The world turned white. Not the white of snow, or silk, or peace—but the white of annihilation. It scoured my senses, a silent scream that ripped through every fiber of my being. I felt my immortal soul, the very essence the goddess had cursed me with, tear free from my mortal shell. It was agony. A thousand shards of starlight, pulled from my chest by an invisible hook. I was hollowing out, becoming nothing.

I had done it. I had saved Aldric. Saved the kingdom. The price was my own eternity.

But the pain didn’t last.

A violent, brutal force slammed into me, not from the goddess, but from the mortal world. Arms of iron wrapped around my waist, spinning me, shielding me. The scent of pine and snow and him flooded my senses as Aldric’s body became a wall between me and the divine wrath.

“No!” I screamed, my voice a ragged sob. “You fool! You can’t!”

But he didn’t listen. He was the king, and he had made his choice. The goddess’s power, meant for me, struck him instead. A blinding pillar of pure, terrible light engulfed him. I watched in horror as his body arched, his back bowing as the curse’s energy sought to consume the life from his veins. His roar of pain was primal, a sound that shattered the ancient stones of the temple.

And then, something shifted.

A power, ancient and sleeping, stirred within his blood. It wasn’t the curse. It was deeper. Older. The true birthright of the Bloodmoon line. His eyes, squeezed shut in agony, flew open. They were no longer the molten gold of his human form, but a blazing, electric silver. A howl tore from his throat, not of pain, but of awakening. His body began to grow, muscles rippling, bones reshaping. The beast he had been denied for so long was clawing its way to the surface, absorbing the goddess’s blow, turning it into fuel.

The goddess’s triumphant shriek turned into one of disbelief. “No! It cannot be! The blood curse is absolute!”

But Aldric was no longer merely a man. He was the Alpha King, whole and complete. His wolf, enormous, silver-furred and crackling with celestial energy, stood where he had been. It was a creature of legend, a god-beast. With a snarl that shook the heavens, it lunged at the goddess.

The battle was short. Blinded by her own arrogance, she was no match for the fully awakened Alpha King. He tore through her construct with claws of pure power, severing her connection to our world. The air split with a shriek that was part fury, part agony. The temple walls cracked, and the oppressive weight of her curse vanished like smoke in a hurricane.

Silence.

The world returned to a muted gray. Aldric shifted back, naked, human, and utterly still on the cold stone floor. A terrible, crimson stain was spreading beneath him.

I crawled to him, my own body broken, my soul a ragged wound. “Aldric… Aldric, wake up.” My hands, slick with his blood, cupped his face. He was so pale. “You can’t leave me. Not now.”

The runes on my skin were gone. The curse was gone. But so was the life in his eyes.

Despair, cold and absolute, clawed at me. This was the price. I was immortal, and he was mortal. He had taken a blow meant for a god. I had nothing left to give.

Then I remembered. The soul-bond. The thread that had been frayed but never truly broken. The part of me that was his.

“You stubborn, impossible king,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to his. “If I can’t live without you, then I won’t live at all.”

I found the frayed end of our bond, the silver thread connecting my heart to his. It was dim, sputtering. I poured everything I had into it. My love, my grief, my fury, my very will to exist. I channeled the immortality I had been cursed with into him, forcing it through the bond, a desperate transfusion of life.

Light, soft and gentle, bloomed between us. It pulsed, once, twice, like a heartbeat. His chest hitched. A stuttering breath. Then a stronger one. The color began to return to his cheeks. His eyes fluttered, and for a single, glorious moment, they opened and met mine. A flash of recognition, of love, of eternal devotion.

“Lyra…” he breathed.

And then, the light exploded outward, consuming me.

I woke to the sound of birdsong.

Not the screech of mountain hawks, but the soft, cheerful chirp of sparrows. I was lying in a bed of ridiculous softness, the scent of lavender and fresh bread in the air. Sunlight streamed through a window, casting a warm glow over an unfamiliar room. It was a cottage, simple and charming. Not a palace.

I sat up, my body aching but whole. I was dressed in a simple linen gown.

A man was standing by the window, his back to me. He had broad shoulders and hair the color of midnight, and he was wearing a simple farmer’s tunic.

“Aldric?” The name was a hope and a prayer.

He turned. It was him. The same sharp jaw, the same intense blue eyes—no, they were a simple, kind brown. He looked at me with a puzzled, gentle smile.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice the same, yet entirely different. There was no kingly command, no ancient weariness. It was light, unburdened. “I found you by the river. You gave me quite a scare. Are you alright?”

He didn’t know me.

He was mortal. The curse was gone, but so was my king. He remembered nothing. Not the throne, not the war, not the goddess. Not the soul-bond that had just torn us across realities. He was just a man. A handsome, kind man who had found a stranger and brought her home.

My heart splintered. The gods had a twisted sense of humor. I had saved him, only to lose him.

“I’m… confused,” I managed, my voice hoarse.

He smiled, and it was like the sun coming out. “I’m Liam. Can I get you some water? Or perhaps some bread? You look like you’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

Not Aldric. Liam.

He didn’t just not remember me. He wasn’t the Alpha King at all. He was a mortal man in a world without magic. And to break the curse fully, to save his life, I had traded everything—including his memory of the life we had fought so hard for.

He held out a cup of water, his expression open and kind. A stranger. An empty slate.

My fingers brushed his as I took the cup. A spark, a whisper of a memory, flickered in his eyes before vanishing. He blinked, looking at his own hand as if confused.

I had to make him fall in love with me. I had to make a king out of a farmer, to reawaken a soul-bond in a man who didn't believe in magic. I had to make him remember.

I took a sip of the water, forcing a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Liam. I’m Lyra.”

And in a world where he was just a man, I had to become the queen of his heart all over again. From the beginning. Not even knowing if such a thing was possible.