Chapter 65: Chapter 65 : The Choice That Starts Forming

Chapter 65 : The Choice That Starts Forming

POV: Liora

The first thing that hit me wasn’t a sound or a thought. It was the bond.

It snapped back into place so suddenly that I actually gasped, my hand pressing hard against my chest as if that could steady it. For days it had been quiet, not gone completely, but distant enough that I could pretend it wasn’t there. Since the pregnancy began, everything between me and Kael had felt muted, like something important had been pushed behind a wall neither of us could reach through.

Now it was back.

Not fully. Not clean.

But sharp enough to hurt.

Pain surged through it, raw and unfiltered, and it didn’t take me more than a second to understand that it wasn’t mine.

Kael.

I pushed myself up too quickly, the room tilting slightly as my body protested the movement. My strength still wasn’t where it should have been, but that didn’t matter. The bond didn’t leave room for hesitation. It pulled, urgent and unrelenting, dragging my focus entirely toward him.

Something was wrong.

No, not wrong. Worse than that. He was hurt, badly.

I swung my legs off the bed, steadying myself against the edge as the wave of sensation hit again. This time it came with something else beneath the pain, something colder, heavier. It wasn’t just injury. It was the kind of damage that sat too close to the edge of something irreversible.

My breath tightened.

For a moment, instinct took over before thought could catch up. My body reacted the way it always had, the way it had been trained to react since the first time I realized what I could do.

Heal him.

It came as naturally as breathing.

I didn’t question it. I didn’t think about cost or consequence or anything beyond the fact that he was hurting and I could stop it. My hand lifted slightly, fingers curling as if I could already feel the energy building under my skin, ready to move, ready to burn through me the way it always did.

The scars along my arm reacted immediately.

Heat spread under my skin, not painful at first, but present enough to remind me exactly what I was about to do. My body didn’t resist. It never had when it came to him. If anything, it leaned into it, pushing forward, ready to give whatever it had left.

Two.

The number didn’t come from nowhere. It was already there, sitting at the back of my mind where I had been trying not to look at it directly.

Two chances left.

Two burns.

Two times I could push this power before there was nothing left of me to give.

The warmth under my skin shifted, turning sharper, more insistent. My body was ready to act, ready to bridge the distance between us through the bond, ready to take his pain and turn it into something I could carry instead.

I took a step forward. Then I stopped. It wasn’t dramatic. There was no sudden realization or overwhelming wave of clarity. It was quieter than that, slower, like something inside me tightening just enough to hold me in place.

I forced myself to breathe.

The bond pulsed again, dragging more of his pain through me, making it harder to think, harder to separate instinct from decision. Every part of me wanted to give in to it, to let it happen the way it always had.

But this time, I didn’t move.

I closed my eyes briefly, pressing my hand harder against my chest as if I could physically hold the reaction back.

Think.

That was the only word I let myself focus on.

Think.

If I did this now, if I used it without knowing what had happened, without understanding how bad it really was, I could burn through one of those last two chances without even knowing if it would be enough. And if it wasn’t enough—

I didn’t let that thought finish.

Another pulse of pain hit, sharper this time, and my fingers tightened involuntarily. Kael wasn’t just hurt. He was close. Close to something I couldn’t undo if I made the wrong move.

My body didn’t care about that. It didn’t care about timing or strategy or what came after. It only knew one thing.

Save him.

I swallowed hard, forcing my hand to lower slowly back to my side.

"Not yet," I whispered under my breath, though I wasn’t sure if I was speaking to myself or to whatever part of me kept pushing forward.

The heat under my skin didn’t fade immediately. It lingered, restless, like it was waiting for me to change my mind.

I didn’t.

I turned toward the door instead, moving carefully this time, slower than before, because if I rushed, I knew exactly what would happen. The bond would take over again, and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.

Each step felt deliberate. By the time I reached the door, my breathing had steadied slightly, but the tension in my chest hadn’t eased. It sat there, constant and heavy, a reminder that every second I delayed, he was still in pain.

I opened the door and stepped into the corridor.

The difference from earlier was immediate. The fortress didn’t feel just unsettled anymore. It felt strained, like something was being held together by force instead of stability. Guards moved faster, their expressions tighter, conversations cutting off the moment they noticed me.

They knew something had happened. They just didn’t know what. Or maybe they did, and they were waiting to see how it would end.

I ignored them and kept walking.

The bond guided me more than memory did, pulling me through the corridors without hesitation. I didn’t need to ask where he was. I could feel it.

Strongest near the medical wing.

Of course.

By the time I reached the doors, I had already forced most of my reactions into something manageable. The instinct to heal hadn’t disappeared, but it wasn’t controlling me anymore.

Not yet.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The first thing I saw was him.

Kael was on the bed, his body too still in a way that didn’t match the energy he usually carried even when he was resting. There was blood on him, not as much as I expected, but enough to make it clear that whatever had happened hadn’t been minor.

The healer stood near him, hands already moving, trying to stabilize what they could without crossing into something they couldn’t fix.

He looked up when I entered, his expression shifting slightly when he saw me.

"My Luna," he said quickly, stepping toward me. "You shouldn’t be here yet. You need to—"

"How bad is it?" I asked, cutting him off before he could finish.

He hesitated.

"Tell me," I said, my voice steady even though my chest tightened again.

"It’s severe," he admitted finally. "The damage is internal. I can slow it, but I cannot reverse it completely."

My gaze shifted back to Kael. The bond pulsed again, weaker this time, but still there.

Still dangerous.

"And if nothing changes?" I asked quietly.

The healer didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t need to.

My fingers curled slightly at my side, the heat under my skin flaring again at the confirmation. My body reacted instantly to the threat, pushing forward with that same instinctive demand.

Now.

Do it now.

Fix it.

End it.

I took a slow breath, holding it for a second before letting it out carefully.

"Leave us," I said.

The healer looked like he wanted to argue, but something in my expression must have stopped him. He nodded once instead, stepping back and signaling the others in the room to follow him out.

The door closed behind them, leaving the room quieter than it had been before.

For a moment, I didn’t move.

Then I walked closer to the bed.

Kael’s breathing was uneven, not shallow enough to be immediate danger, but not steady enough to be safe either. His face was tense even in unconsciousness, like his body hadn’t fully let go of whatever had happened to him.

I stopped at his side, looking down at him.This was the moment. It would have been easier if I hadn’t known.

If I didn’t understand exactly what using my power would cost me now, I would have already done it. There would have been no pause, no hesitation, no second thought.

But I did know and that changed everything. My hand lifted again, slower this time, hovering just above him.

The bond reacted immediately, pulling tighter, encouraging the connection, making it easier to bridge the gap if I let it.

I didn’t touch him.

Not yet.

My mind ran through everything I knew, everything I had been told, everything I had tried to ignore.

Two chances.

Two burns.

After that—

I didn’t finish the thought. I looked at him again, really looked this time, not just at the injury, but at him. The way his hand rested slightly open at his side, the tension in his jaw even now, the familiar presence that had become something constant in my life whether I wanted it to or not.

This wasn’t just anyone.

This was Kael.

The man who had protected me even when it cost him. The man who was being controlled in ways he never admitted out loud. The man who would choose me even when it made everything else harder.

My chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t just from the bond.

It was from understanding.

If I did this now, if I used one of those last chances without thinking beyond this moment, I might save him today.

But what about the next time?

And there would be a next time.

There was no version of this where things suddenly became safe. Everything around us was already shifting, already moving toward something bigger than either of us could control.

If I used everything I had now—

What would be left when it mattered more?

My hand trembled slightly where it hovered. The bond pulled again, more insistent this time, like it could feel my hesitation and didn’t agree with it.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to hold still.

"You’re not dying," I said quietly, even though I wasn’t sure if he could hear me. "Not like this."

The words weren’t a promise.

And for the first time since I realized what I could do, that decision didn’t automatically include using my power.

I lowered my hand slowly. The reaction was immediate. The heat under my skin flared, sharp and almost painful now, like my body didn’t understand why I was stopping. It pushed harder, trying to override the restraint, trying to force the connection anyway.

I held it back. Every part of me resisted what I was doing. Every instinct told me this was wrong. That I was making a mistake. That I would regret it.

Maybe I would.

But right now, this was the only choice that made sense beyond the next few minutes.

I stepped back from the bed, creating distance between us, not because I wanted to, but because I needed it to stay in control.

The bond didn’t disappear.

It stayed there, tight and uncomfortable, a constant reminder of what I was choosing not to do.

I turned slightly, dragging a hand through my hair as I forced myself to breathe through the tension.

This wasn’t about not caring. It wasn’t about letting him suffer. It was about something harder. Something colder. It was about choosing when to act instead of reacting every time something went wrong.

And right now—

This wasn’t the moment.

My throat tightened slightly at that thought, but I didn’t let it show. I looked back at him one more time, taking in the sight of him lying there, still breathing, still alive.

Still here.

"For now," I murmured under my breath.

The words felt heavier than they should have. I turned and walked toward the door before I could change my mind.

Each step felt deliberate, controlled in the same way everything else had been since the bond snapped back into place.

By the time I reached the door, my chest ached from holding everything in, but I didn’t stop.

I opened it and stepped out into the corridor again, letting it close behind me.

The noise of the fortress rushed back in immediately, but it felt distant compared to what I had just left behind.

I didn’t go far.

I stopped a few steps away, leaning slightly against the wall as I let out a slow breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

For a moment, I just stood there, my eyes closed, my mind replaying everything that had just happened.

It would have been easier to give in. It would have been simpler to just do what I had always done. But easy didn’t keep me alive.

And it didn’t change what was coming.

I opened my eyes slowly, my gaze unfocused for a second before it settled.

"If it comes down to it..." I whispered quietly, the words forming before I could stop them.

I already knew how that sentence ended. I had known for a while. I just hadn’t wanted to say it out loud.

My jaw tightened slightly as the realization settled fully into place, no longer something I could push aside or pretend I didn’t understand.

"If it comes down to it... I might have to let him die."