Chapter 52 – The Heart of the Matter
Lucien's POV
The battlefield had become chaos incarnate—flames licking the edges of shattered earth, shadows darting and screaming, creatures of nightmare swarming in every direction. Yet in the middle of it all, everything narrowed to a single point: Helena.
She was before him, trembling, defiant, beautiful in a way that made his chest ache. The golden aura still wrapped around him, Helene's power lending strength, precision, and clarity.
He reached for her, fingertips grazing her cheek. Her lips met his, soft and impossibly warm against the cold steel of the battlefield. It was a kiss that could burn worlds, and for a heartbeat, the war vanished. Only the fire between them existed.
He has hope till she said the last words. He knew there was no use.
"Lucien…" she whispered, her voice trembling with desire and something unspoken, a question he could feel rather than hear.
"I love you," he said, voice low, almost a growl, teeth brushing her jaw as his other hand curled against her waist. "But this ends. Now. Maybe in another life we could've made it work."
Her eyes flickered, confusion and longing wrestling with defiance. "What—?" Realization dawned on her but it was a second too late
And then he acted.
Time slowed. His mind was sharp, unerring. The Red Wolf and Helene's energy coursed through him, steady, unstoppable. With a force born of fury, heartbreak, and inevitability, he drove his hand into her chest.
Her eyes widened—not with fear, but with recognition of the sacrifice he was making. His fingers closed around her heart then he yanked it out.
And it stopped.
Instantly.
Helena's body went limp in his arms, warm and trembling one last moment before stillness claimed her. The kiss faltered, a shard of tenderness breaking in the midst of brutality.
And then the battlefield reacted.
Oni, Draugr, Rakshasa, Hollowed, Skoll-kin—every twisted creature Helena had unleashed—turned to ash mid-step, mid-roar, mid-leap. The wind carried their screams away like smoke. Silence fell over the field, heavy and complete.
Lucien sank to his knees, still holding her, his chest heaving, golden aura dimming as exhaustion and grief set in. Every muscle trembled. Every nerve screamed. He had won the battle, but the cost…
The world seemed to hold its breath. Smoke curled from the ruined earth. Fires crackled in the distance, but the creatures were gone. The war was over.
And he was left with the weight of what he'd done. He tried to stand....
Helena's blood still warmed his fingers, a cruel reminder of how fleeting life could be. He let her body rest on the ground, hands hovering above, trembling.
He didn't speak. Words would have been lies, or grief, or something too small to matter. All that remained was the pounding of his heart, echoing the rhythm of a victory that tasted like ash.