The heart argues where it loves deeply.
Dimitri continued to turn his head away in silent resentment, offering no sign of budging for the next hundred years, or at least that's how it felt. Meanwhile, plush figures clustered around the sofa where the unconscious monster lay, each one positioned as if guarding him. The seat that should have been Dimitri's remained empty—he still showed no intention of doing anything to help.
Luna moved with quiet precision, placing black candles between the plush figures and lighting them one by one. From her bag, she carefully withdrew fine silk, smoothing its edges before unwrapping it with reverence. Four salt crystals, each etched with intricate designs, and a necklace of red beads were delicately arranged in the black silk.
With tender, almost reverent hands, Luna lifted the monster's head and carefully draped the necklace around his neck. After a brief moment, she lowered him back onto the cushion as though he were made of glass, each movement radiating care and attention.
She placed the crystals with deliberate precision. The one bearing an eye was positioned in the center of his forehead. The crescent-moon crystal rested on his left eye, while the sun-shaped crystal went on the right. The last, star-carved crystal, was placed over his heart on the left side of his chest.
Despite her delicate actions, Luna's hands trembled. The ceremony was set, but one final piece was missing: Dimitri's help.
"Dim," she called softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I need you."
With a grumble, the tiny rabbit finally took his place, squirming uncomfortably as much as his body allowed.
"Thank you," Luna murmured, her voice laced with gratitude.
That one word held everything she felt. Dimitri may have softened for a moment, but it was fleeting, and soon he was back to grumbling. Luna stifled a few soft, nervous chuckles, her velvet voice still carrying the weight of tension.
The empaths inhaled deeply in unison, beginning a mantra-like chant. To any onlookers, the passage of time seemed endless as the final echoes of their words faded, leaving the room in an almost palpable silence. The crystals glowed faintly, their light casting an eerie, gentle radiance.
Luna stood, yet remained within the circle, not moving an inch.
"This," Alex started, his voice tight, "Is this really helping him?"
Dimitri let out a mocking laugh, the sound sharp and cruel. The wolf shot him a piercing look, but the rabbit's button eyes glinted with an odd satisfaction at the tension he'd caused.
"No, we can't help him from here," Luna admitted softly, her voice heavy with quiet regret. "The fight's in his mind. We can't just walk in there."
"Then what was all this for?" Rolo's question cut through the air, sharper than usual.
"If the Wraith takes control of his body, we'll lock him away," Dimitri declared with an air of smug satisfaction, his voice practically dripping with anticipation. "The body will never wake up again. It'll be locked away forever."
"What?!" Alex growled, his voice raw with anger. "What were you thinking, Luna?!"
"We had no choice," Anna whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of the situation. "The Wraith cannot have this body."
"His power is immense," Macabeus interjected, his tone grave. "If the Wraith can take the body of a king, there will be no one left strong enough to stop him."
Alex opened his mouth to argue, but the lion plushy beat him to it.
"Do not fret, members of his court," Ibrahim said, his voice deep and steady. "If your leader were truly weak, the Wraith would have already claimed his body. He still has a chance to win."
"But how much of a chance?" Rolo demanded, his voice sharp with frustration.
The plush figures fell silent, the tension in the room thickening.
"Answer!" Alex snapped, his patience thinning.
"Roughly twenty-five percent," Dimitri declared, his voice dripping with mockery. He ignored the accusatory glares from the others, his button eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "And it gets smaller by the minute."
Alex's face drained of color, the weight of Dimitri's words sinking in.
"Twenty-five percent?" a quiet, broken voice beside him asked.
At first, Alex didn't recognize it. The voice sounded so shattered, so far removed from the usual sharpness he'd come to expect. Slowly, he turned to the kid. The usual impassive, defiant face of the rascal was gone, replaced by a pale, stricken expression. His lips were parted, and his emerald eyes, usually so full of fire, now looked cracked, as though the world itself had just come crashing down.
Alex was momentarily stunned. But then, a spark of understanding lit up in his eyes. He knew that look. It was the same fear, the same uncertainty he felt himself. He placed a hand gently on Rolo's shoulder. The boy looked up at him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Trust him," Alex said, his voice softer now, filled with a quiet resolve. "Do you really think he'd let himself be beaten so easily?"
His words were not just for Rolo—they were a reminder to himself as well. Rolo's clenched fists trembled slightly, but there was something in his eyes that began to shift.
And so, they waited. All they could do now was wait—and trust.
(...)
Alex couldn't coax Mao out from under the cupboard. When the Wraith appeared, the cat had scurried underneath and hadn't budged since. Not even its favorite dish could entice it, so Alex placed the bowl of food in front of the cupboard again and sighed as he turned toward the living room.
He walked into the room and found Luna, pale as ever, her face shadowed by dark circles. She sat motionless, a silent testament to the second day she had spent in this state. Alex handed her a glass of water—her only request, no matter how much he tried to offer her something more.
The plush figures were as still as Luna, their motionless forms a mystery. It was hard to say whether it was the toll the magic had taken on them, leaving them too drained to move, or if they simply refused to break the circle by even the slightest action. But Dimitri, the irritating stuffed rabbit, was a different story. He couldn't stay still, growling under his breath, clearly struggling with the stillness.
"I can't believe it!" he suddenly erupted, his voice sharp with frustration. "The bastard should just give up! I've been sitting here for two days!"
"Dimitri, sit back down," Luna's voice, weary but firm, cut through the tension. With a huff of annoyance, the rabbit obeyed but not without a resentful twitch.
His gaze lingered on her, worry etched deeply in his features. It was obvious to anyone who knew Luna that she was pushing herself past her limits. She was carefully regulating her magic, but the toll it took on her body was evident. If she didn't stop soon, her life force would be gone, drained entirely.
"Don't even think about it," she whispered softly, but her words carried an undercurrent of determination.
If Dimitri had lips, he might have pressed them into a thin line. For a moment, he seemed to forget that he was surrounded by empaths, his frustration growing as he fought to suppress it.
"Don't make me waste any more of my energy by shackling you," Luna's voice was gentle but resolute, her plea underscored by quiet strength.
"Why do you go to such lengths for him?" Dimitri spat, his voice laced with bitterness.
"You know the answer to that," Luna whispered, her eyes not leaving him.
"Is it because of a stupid prophecy your crazy mother told you?!" Dimitri sneered. "Don't make me laugh! You didn't believe in it until now!"
"I was wrong," Luna's voice was barely above a breath, but the sincerity behind it made the words cut deeper than any argument could.
Dimitri clenched his fists, unable to keep the rage from spilling out. "I saw the imprint of him on your aura," he growled, exposing the jealousy and anger that had been simmering beneath the surface. "Did you sleep with him?"
Luna didn't answer, and the silence between them was all the response he needed. They both knew the truth, and it hung heavily in the air.
"Is he better than me?" Dimitri's voice trembled with barely contained anger. "Is that it?!"
Luna remained silent, her expression unreadable.
Before Dimitri could continue, Macabeus interrupted, his tone casual as ever. "I'd appreciate it if you'd leave your little love quarrel until after the ritual."
His words were light, but they carried the weight of someone who had long since grown tired of the distractions in the room.
Before Dimitri could start arguing with the teddy bear, the atmosphere in the room shifted suddenly. For a brief moment, an eerie silence fell over everyone. Alex stood frozen, the glass still in his hand, while Rolo rushed into the living room.
"Gironde Mehisto."
The barely audible whisper carried such weight that it made every eye in the room snap toward the monster on the couch. Though his voice was quiet, it had the force of a magic word, compelling and authoritative. The next moment, something happened that distorted the very fabric of reality, leaving the tiny stuffed rabbit utterly bewildered.
"The essence of the Wraith..." Dimitri began, his voice tinged with frustration.
"...Has vanished without a trace," Ibrahim finished, his voice thick with disbelief.
Luna sprang to her feet, but the sudden motion made her dizzy. Her legs betrayed her unable to support her weight.
There was a sound like stones clattering, too quick to track. The movement was so fast that it defied comprehension. Silver strands of hair glinted in the dim light, catching the glow like strands of moonlight, while dark claws, sharp as obsidian, stretched from the tips of his fingers.
The presence of the monster erupted with such force that it felt like the walls themselves had contracted, the very atmosphere thickening as if the air was being suffocated by his sheer power. It wasn't just an overwhelming force—it was the feeling of reality bending and warping in his wake, as though time itself had stilled in reverence. Every breath felt heavy, every heartbeat too loud, as if the creature's very existence crushed everything he touched, commanding the space without a single word.
Alex and Rolo both froze, their bodies tense with instinctive fear. They knew this presence. They had felt it before. The memories of that night flooded back—terrifying and vivid. For a moment, they were paralyzed by the certainty that the monster would attack, and they would all die right there.
In the blink of an eye, the creature was standing in front of Luna. He didn't strike, nor did he make any move to harm her. Instead, he simply took hold of her wrist, his grip firm but not threatening.
It was then that Alex and Rolo realized what Luna had already understood: this presence was not hostile. It wasn't a force bent on destruction. It was the presence of a king, born to reign, overwhelming in his power but entirely devoid of malice. The energy radiating from the monster was so immense that it made the hairs on their necks stand on end, yet there was no intent to harm. He simply was. And in his existence, he commanded everything around him with a quiet, undeniable authority.
"Shay," Alex called out, but the figure remained unresponsive.
Alex stepped closer so he could see his face. His eyes remained half-closed as if he were not quite conscious.
"He's sleeping," Luna said softly, her voice calm. "He must be exhausted."
She gently ran her fingers through the silvery hair, her touch tender.
"I'm fine," she added, and as if on cue, the creature let go of her wrist.
Without another word, the beast moved toward the couch, climbing back onto it with fluid movements. He adjusted a cushion under his head and sank into a deep slumber, his eyes closing completely. The soft, steady rhythm of his breathing filled the room, familiar and reassuring to Alex.
"What happened?" Rolo asked, his voice laced with confusion. "Sleepwalking?"
"Something like that," Luna replied cautiously, her voice soft but full of understanding. "His conscious self is exhausted. His instincts took over. With his daily limits gone, his monstrous senses are far sharper than a human's. He must have sensed something was wrong."
The monster shifted in his sleep, turning slightly as he sought a more comfortable position. Meanwhile, Mao emerged from the shadows, drawn by the change in atmosphere. With the Wraith gone, the cat finally ventured out, sniffing the air cautiously. It padded over to the sofa, its paws light and graceful.
In one fluid movement, Mao jumped up—straight onto the monster's belly.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though the creature would launch the cat across the room with a single swipe. A low growl rumbled in his throat, warning the cat away. But Mao, unfazed, meowed, as if responding to the growl with its own brand of cheeky defiance. The monster growled again, frustrated, but in the end, he did nothing. The cat curled up contentedly on his belly, purring softly.