Offered to the Triplet Alphas

[Xanthea]

A sharp pulse of pain zapped through my head, every nerve and blood vessel

screaming in agony. My muscles spasmed, my bones felt as if they were melting as the life force was yanked from my body and poured into my tongue - fueling the spell with

raw energy.

My vision blurred for a moment, but I kept my gaze locked on Yandor's chest wound. "Ugh!" Yandor staggered, a sharp groan tearing from his throat as his stance wavered.

His axe swung low, its speed relatively slow, but not slow enough.

Yandor's axe slashed across Asher's back, a ruthless arc of crimson sprayed into the misty downpour. Asher's body lurched forward from the impact, crashing on the ground hard with an ominous thud.

Without wasting another second, Yandor slammed his pointed metallic sabaton into Asher's chest and kicked him. Asher shot right past me, crashing on mother's grave onto his back.

"Die, you filthborn ashling!" Yandor growled, lunging towards him with the spear-end of his weapon directed to pierce Asher's heart.

Mid-run, I twisted on my heels and sprinted to intercept Yandor's attack, slamming into him with full force and speed.

Clang!

But before my arm could collide with the spear, the celestial prince teleported behind me, deflecting it into the ground with his sword.

Still, the spear grazed my arm, splitting the skin and shattering my bones. Had I taken the hit head-on, I would have lost my arm in seconds.

However, at that moment, all I saw was an opening.

I slammed my other palm over Yandor's chest.

"Jualsra..." I whispered.

"No!" the celestial prince immediately grabbed Yandor's arm and teleported far away from me.

Herrew a spent my i montlers lacr rever silarear-frontevern with ter srlardow: teraiser foresaw the damage it could inflict when chanted at such close range.

But he was already too late. Yandor's most fatal wound had been de-healed.

No one and nothing could heal a wound de-healed by Jualsra unless the caster willingly revoked the spell.

***

That didn't stop the prince from blocking Yandor from my view, as he hurriedly pulled out vials of potions from his cloak. But Yandor couldn't swallow a single sip without choking on more blood as his chest tore apart from within.

If I were at my mother's level, I could've de-healed all his wounds at once without it taking much toll on my body. But I wasn't. The phantom pain throbbed in my chest, making it hard to breathe, yet I kept my composure.

"The potions won't work and if you think just hiding him from my vision will stop the spell, you are wrong," I said. "I already have a clear picture of his wound in my mind." The prince looked at me over his shoulder.

"A witch..." Nikolai mumbled. "Those demons have turned my sister into a fucking witch! A freaking monster!"

Had I heard Nikolai say those words two months back, I would have had some reaction, but right now, I couldn't care less.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

"Since you haven't already chanted Jualsra for a third time, I am hoping there's room for a conversation," the prince said, getting to his feet as he turned to face me again.

It's true that I wanted to use Jualsra to gain the upper hand, but that wasn't the only thing stopping me from chanting it a third time, because once I did, Yandor would be as good as dead.

There was a mysterious resistance from within, something restraining me from going any further.

Maybe this was what a blood connection felt like. Or perhaps it was my mother's happy memories with Yandor, lingering in the back of my mind. Or maybe it was the promise I made to Asher.

Perhaps it was all of it.

But I also knew that if Yandor hadn't been neutralized by the second chant, I wouldn't have hesitated to complete the third.

"Lady Xanthea..." the prince took a cautious step closer. "Lord Yandor is your grandfather. He was only acting on his protective instincts towards his family. He thought you were forced into a marriage with the demon lords, that they kept you against your will. But there seems to be a misunderstanding on both the sides, which I'm certain can be resolved if we talk-"

"What makes you think you're qualified to talk to me?" I asked, my voice cold. "And why should I listen or trust a single word you say when your idea of starting a conversation was a one-sided ambush?"

The prince paused, selecting his words carefully before he spoke again.

"My lady... I never planned to attack you or Alpha Asher. Lord Yandor lost his calm the moment he saw his blood with... a demon. Please try to understand. It was an impulsive reaction-"

"What's there to understand about a grown-ass man who can't even control his emotions? He looks like he's a high rank celestial. Still, he lacks basic manners, etiquettes, even the rationality to fathom the consequences of his actions? He attacked the Alpha of the Infernal Pack. Do you think the Prime Alpha Council will take that lightly?"

Rage and fear fueled my every word as they slipped out of my lips like a warning.

"I, the crown prince of Solvaris pack, humbly apologize on behalf of my beta and my pack-"

"And what the hell should I do with your half-ass apology? Will it heal my husband's wound? Will it reverse the blood he lost? You still don't understand the situation, do you? As the demon lords' wife, let me make one thing clear... if anything happens to my husband here... I, Xanthea Plath Xipher, will lead a war against the Celestial Realm myself. And I'll make sure every last one of you perishes."

I don't know how my words sounded to them. Nonchalant? Intimidating? Hollow?

But I meant every one of them.

I was scared-

Not of anyone else, but myself.

Scared that I might actually do what I was saying.

Scared that I'd do worse.

The worst part was... I found it acceptable. Even rational. To destroy everyone and everything that dared threaten the ones I wanted to protect.

With the knowledge I had, I could create bio-weapons capable of unleashing horrors far worse than what the world had seen or suffered. From an immortality epidemic, killing even the gods to a plague affecting all three realms.

And perhaps... the prince knew.

Knew exactly what I was capable of.

Which meant he also knew I had already inherited my mother's knowledge.

And it was that knowledge he feared.

Because that would be the only sensible reason for an alpha like him to bow before a weaponless, weak omega like me.

Placing his sword on the ground, he went on his one knee.

"I beg you... your highness. I completely understand the situation and I take full responsibility. Please give me a chance to clear the misunderstanding, to correct my beta's mistake," the prince said.

Got you.

"Stop the holy rain. Withdraw all your weapons. Stop the creation of the divine dome,"

I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible, clenching my trembling fingers into a tight fist to fight the phantom pain.

Just maintaining the Jualsra spell was taking a heavy toll on my body.

"My lady-"

"Don't 'lady' me," I said, my gaze fixed on Yandor as he lay on the ground, gasping as blood spurted out of his mouth, painting his white armor red. "You don't have enough time to fix your beta's mistake."

"Don't do it!" Nikolai barked. "That demon will regain his powers. She's just bluffing. This must be the demon's doing. She can't do anything. Don't fall for her trap!" Ignoring Nikolai, the prince rose to his feet and lifted his gaze to the sky before turning it back to me. His gaze held mine as the misty curtain of rain faltered. The stinging drops softened into a gentle drizzle... and finally, stopped altogether.

Finally.

"I will request you to revoke the spell and spare lord Yandor," the prince said, lowering

his hood.

"That will depend on how well you can talk," I said. "I know you only want to talk because you have no other choice. I expected nothing less from the cowards who attacked from behind. After all, birds of a feather flock together."

I darted a glare at Nikolai.

'Let them convince you who you are and let me manipulate you into thinking otherwise. If I do that, they will try harder to convince you and the truth will be revealed faster.' Asher's words were still fresh in my mind.

Since he was in no condition to manipulate them, I'd have to do it my way.

"This is your last chance," I said. "I don't know what this piece of shit has told you to deceive you into believing I was your old man's relative, but it's all lies. Don't trust him. He is just manipulating you to hurt me. Me and my husbands are no threat to anyone.

I was only here to visit my mother, Freya Plath's grave-"

I turned towards Asher.

I used Yexli on him to analyze the depth of his wound, but...

My breaths caught in my lungs, my heart thundering in my ears as my shaking eyesnoveldrama

raked all over his body once, twice, thrice to make sure I was seeing things right.

What is this?

I clenched the fabric over my chest.

Yandor had just two of the pitch-black marks on his body.

But Asher-

Every inch of him was covered in them. Dense. Spreading. There wasn't an inch of his

body that hadn't been wounded critically.

How is this even possible?

What the hell has he been through to end up like this?

No... who did this to him?

For a second, I thought it was the holy rain. Or maybe Yandor's attack. But no. These wounds were old. They had healed decades ago. One layered over the other, over and over again, until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the next began.

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I immediately nullified Yexli so that I could focus on his present wounds.

Since Asher didn't appear even once in my mother's memories, I didn't consider her

involvement. But his absence itself was suspicious.

Still, now wasn't the time to dwell on the past.

I rushed to Asher.

Lifting his head, I gently placed it on my lap.

"Asher..." I called out, cupping his face. "Asher..."

His eyes fluttered open in a daze before slipping shut again. He was still conscious. Barely, but still. For a demon to take a direct hit from a holy weapon while enduring

the holy rain and still remain partially conscious... wasn't normal.

But I was glad.

Even though I failed to save him, a slashed back was far better than a severed head or

a ruptured heart. At least there was hope. This could still be healed.

I placed my broken hand on the white marble. Ignoring the pain that shot through my bones, I concentrated on directing my blood to create the recovery symbol beneath Asher, using the blood manipulation skill I inherited from my mother.

The healing would be painful since his wound was bone deep. I wish Raven were here. My mother's healing was fast and efficient, but ruthless at the same time. Meanwhile, Raven's healing was a lot gentler. If he were here... Asher's healing would have been a lot less painful...

"Do you... love him?"

The celestial prince's question threw me off guard.

"No. Do you... perhaps... love the demon lords?" he asked, and I looked at him, narrowing my eyes.

"That's none of your business," I said bitterly.

"It is..." the prince said quietly. "You don't know yet, but... several fates - mine, yours

and the demon lords - depend on your answer. If they haven't forced you into this

marriage, if you don't need saving, if you're with them by choice, then... everything changes." "What the hell are you talking about?" I frowned.

"Tell me, lady Xanthea... are the demon lords treating you well? Do you see a future with them and is it happy? Do they love you as much as you love them or is it just one- sided? Do they complete you? Demons, by nature, are incapable of loving someone as deeply and as purely as you do. Do you still wish to stay by their side forever? Or... is it merely a fleeting sense of duty... a temporary obligation."

My breaths hitched as I tried hard to avoid my focus from wavering from the mana symbol's creation.

His overwhelmingly intimate questions were unsettling, but what truly made me restless was the sincerity behind them. As if he was ready to take me away the moment the demon lords failed to live up to his expected standards. As if he believed he had

the right to make that decision for me, as though I was his responsibility.

I chose to remain silent because honestly... I was flustered by the sudden shift in the tension.

The prince was quick to read into my discomfort. "Regardless of how things seem, I'm not your enemy," he said, taking out several

envelopes from his cloak. "I'm on your side. I know it's difficult to trust me, however I hope you do."

He didn't have to say it out loud. I already knew he was telling the truth because... 'Trust him. Let him help you. Trust him.'

My mother's voice had been constantly ringing in the back of my head ever since the

celestial prince showed up.

He took off his cloak, then - one by one - began removing the weapons and armor strapped to him. Until all that remained was a plain black shirt and pants. "May I step closer to you?" he asked, lifting his hands slowly to his shoulders in a gesture of surrender. "Just enough... to give you the letters your mother left behind. They might help you see our side a little more clearly."