Adrian’s crimson eyes glistened with unshed tears as he lowered his gaze, unable to meet Misery’s accusing stare. The weight of her question pressed down on him, suffocating and unrelenting.
“It was the only way,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “He would’ve taken her. He would’ve killed her.”
Misery’s gaze shifted back to the baby in his arms, her mind piecing together fragments of the truth. Her heart shattered as realization struck like a blade. This wasn’t her child.
The scent, the connection, the instinctual bond—none of it matched. Adrian had switched her baby with another.
Her breathing grew shallower, the last vestiges of her strength slipping away. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, to hold her real daughter one last time, but the effort was beyond her. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as her lips moved soundlessly, forming words that never came.
Adrian leaned closer, his face pale with grief and guilt.
“She’s safe, Misery,” he said, his voice cracking. “Your baby is safe. I swear to you, I’ll protect her, no matter what.”
Misery’s silver eyes brimmed with tears as she gazed at him, her emotions too fractured to form coherent thought. In her final moments, she clung to the image of Eryon, the father of her child, and the life they would never share. The weight of everything she had lost pressed down on her like an unbearable tide.
Her trembling hand reached for Adrian one last time, her eyes locking onto his. Though her voice was gone, her gaze spoke volumes: Don’t fail her.
Adrian’s jaw tightened as he nodded, understanding her silent plea.
“I won’t,” he whispered. “I promise.”
Misery’s body stilled, her hand falling limp as her chest rose and fell one final time. The light in her silver eyes faded, leaving Adrian kneeling beside her lifeless form. The baby in his arms whimpered softly, her tiny hands clutching at the blanket.
The room was silent, save for the faint crackle of magic dissipating into the air. Adrian’s head bowed, his grief a palpable weight that seemed to crush the very air around him. But his mourning was interrupted by the King’s voice, cold and devoid of sympathy.
“You’re learning, Adrian,” the King said, his tone sharp and cruel. “Sacrifice is the cornerstone of power.”
Adrian rose slowly, his movements deliberate and precise. His eyes, blazing with quiet fury, met the King’s unfeeling gaze.
“You’ll pay for this,” he said under his breath, too low for anyone to hear.
Cradling the orphaned infant tightly against his chest, Adrian turned away from Misery’s body.
His steps were measured, his grief giving way to a steely resolve that burned brighter with each passing moment.
Inside, he vowed silently: Her sacrifice won’t be in vain. I’ll make sure of it.