Chapter 65: Chapter 65

KAMORA

“What are you doing?” the killer demanded, his voice laced with frustration as he strained against the pull of Kamora’s magic.

Despite his efforts, he couldn’t break free.

Kamora spat out a mouthful of blood, crimson staining her lips. Her son’s terrified scream tore through the room.

“Stay back,” she rasped, her voice raw as she struggled to maintain her hold on the killer.

Her grip was unyielding, but the cost was evident in the pallor of her face. She could feel his essence snaking through her, weaving into her own as their souls began to merge.

“You’re only going to hurt yourself,” the killer sneered, though a flicker of unease crept into his tone. “This magic is dangerous.”

“Never knew you cared so much,” Kamora shot back, her lips twitching in a weak attempt at defiance.

Pain lanced through her chest, sharp and relentless, forcing a wince out of her. She wasn’t foolish enough to attempt a complete merge of their souls—that would destroy her.

No, she only needed enough of his power to break the curse binding her husband. Already, a spell was forming in her mind, each word searing itself into her thoughts.

“So, all this time, your husband’s curse wasn’t broken,” the killer mused, his tone dripping with mockery. “He merely suppressed it. How he must love you.”

Kamora ignored him. Her focus was unwavering.

“What makes you think this will work?” he taunted. “In case you don’t know, I have no wish to break his curse.”

“But I do,” Kamora murmured, more to herself than to him. “I love him.”

A sudden groan from Lord Maroke tore through the tension. His face twisted in agony, his body trembling.

“What is happening?” Kamora whispered, her heart seizing with fear.

Moments ago, he had been improving. What had gone wrong?

The killer chuckled darkly.

“I’d advise you to give up. Even if you succeed in channeling my power, it won’t work. Love can’t shatter centuries of magic, dear Kamora. You’ll only end up hurting him.”

Kamora clenched her jaw, steeling herself against his words. She couldn’t afford to doubt now.

When she felt she had drawn enough of his essence, she closed her eyes and whispered the spell that had taken root in her soul:

~By bonds of grief and pain once made,~

~Let love now rise where hate has stayed.~

~Through fire’s burn and shadow’s tear,~

~I call to end the chains you bear.~

~A heart once closed, now be unbound,~

~Let mercy’s light your soul surround.~

~Through scars we heal, through love restore,~

~The curse shall hold your heart no more.~

~As stars may fall but still remain,~

~So break this fate, undo the chain.~

~Through will and hope, the spell shall part,~

~And grant new life to your hollow heart.~

With the final word, Kamora pushed all her power, along with the killer’s stolen essence, into Lord Maroke. Her strength and love surged like a tide, channeling everything she had into breaking the curse.

Lord Maroke screamed. His body writhed against the bed. The sound tore through Kamora, but she forced herself to hold steady.

Just as she thought she might break, his cries ceased. He drew in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling steadily.

Color rushed back to his ashen face. Kamora’s breath hitched.

Trembling, she released the magic and stumbled to his side. Her grip on the killer faltered, and he broke free. His stolen essence left her body and returned to him, though he didn’t attack.

“My love?” she whispered, brushing a damp strand of hair from Lord Maroke’s forehead.

His breathing was even, his expression peaceful.

Tears welled in her eyes as she leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. Gratitude overwhelmed her; the heavens had answered her desperate prayer.

Straightening, she turned to face the killer.

His eyes burned intensely, a strange mix of curiosity and bitterness.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Jarosh, still standing at the doorway with tears streaming down his small face. His fist was shoved into his mouth, trembling with silent sobs.

Kamora sighed inwardly. Why hadn’t he left?

The killer’s slow, deliberate steps brought her attention back to him.

She tensed. Her body instinctively fell into a defensive stance.

“You never had the strength to beat me before,” he said, stopping just a few feet away. His gaze bored into hers.

“What makes you think you can now? Especially after expending all your power? I should just kill you.”

“No!” Jarosh screamed, his voice loud and desperate.

He bolted forward, positioning himself in front of Kamora with his arms spread wide.

“Jarosh, stay back!” Kamora rebuked, her heart hammering with fear.

But the boy ignored her, his small frame shielding her as if he could stop whatever blow might come.

The killer barely spared Jarosh a glance. His focus remained on Kamora, his eyes narrowing.

“You think you’ve won. But this stunt you pulled—this exchange of power—won’t come without a cost. I can only imagine what it is.”

His gaze flicked to Lord Maroke, then back to Kamora.

Finally, he turned and strode toward the door.

Kamora’s breath caught as he bent to pick up Lord Maroke’s ancestor’s journal, which had fallen during their clash.

For a moment, she debated stopping him but stayed silent as he studied the worn pages. Without a word, he tucked the book under his arm and disappeared through the doorway.

The room fell into silence.

Kamora’s knees threatened to buckle as relief surged through her.

Before she could move, Petal burst into the room, panting heavily.

“My lady,” she gasped, her face pale with worry.

Kamora smiled weakly and pinched Jarosh’s tear-streaked cheek. She turned toward Lord Maroke, her heart swelling with hope.

But before she could take a step, her vision blurred. The room tilted, and darkness swallowed her whole.

Kamora crumpled to the ground, unconscious.