Chapter 219

The witch’s voice trembled. “There is nothing we can do.”

Nate stared at her.

For several seconds he didn’t move, breathe, or blink. Then slowly, very slowly, he took a step forward.

“What did you say?”

The witch visibly flinched. Her eyes darted toward the body on the floor before returning to him.

“There is nothing we can do.” Her voice cracked. “Not against dark faes.”

Nate’s entire body went rigid.

The throne room felt colder. The scent of blood still lingered heavily in the air. One dead witch lay crumpled beside the pillars.

Another remained where Nate had thrown her.

Alaric stood several feet away, watching his brother carefully, and watching the way grief and rage fought for dominance inside him.

The witch swallowed. “The portals between realms are different.” She opened up.

Nate’s jaw clenched. “Go on, damn you.” He commanded roughly.

The witch lowered her gaze. “The wolf realm and the fae realm aren’t connected the way most people think.”

King Elijah narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

The witch hesitated.

Xander immediately stepped forward. “Speak.”

The witch nodded. “There are different types of portals.” Her voice remained quiet. “Ordinary portals can be opened through magical anchors.” She swallowed. “Dark fae portals cannot.”

Nate’s hands clenched into fists. He took in a long inhake to calm himself. At least, they were getting somewhere. “Why?”

“Because dark fae magic is alive.”

The room grew silent again.

Several wolves exchanged confused looks.

The witch continued. “Dark fae magic doesn’t obey rules the same way other magic does.” Her eyes shifted toward the dead witches. “As much as I wish it did.”

The atmosphere remained suffocating.

The witch took a shaky breath. “A dark fae portal can only be opened by dark fae blood.”

King Elijah frowned. “You’re telling me there is absolutely no way?”

The witch looked genuinely apologetic. “No.”

Nate exploded.

His fist slammed into the nearest stone pillar, and the crack echoed throughout the throne room.

Stone shattered everywhere, and most rained downward.

Alaric immediately moved. “Nate.” He warned.

Nate ignored him.

His breathing had become uneven now. His breathing turned harsh and painful, as he looked around for someone to kill, or something to hit.

Twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four entire hours.

Aire was gone. He had gone twenty-four hours without hearing her voice, witthout smelling her scent, and without feeling the bond.

The emptiness inside him had become unbearable.

His chest physically hurt, and every breath hurt. The walls began to close in on him, and his knees weakened, threatening to drop him to the floor.

King Elijah watched him quietly.

The king’s expression hardened. He was looking at a grieving mate, and there was nothing crueler than a grieving mate.

The witch’s voice became smaller. “There is one thing.”

Immediately every eye in the room snapped toward her.

Nate’s head turned to her with raw desperate hope. Xanden took a step forward with undeniable hope, and the readiness to do anything the witch says.

Alaric ears sharpened.

The witch immediately regretted speaking. She could see it in their eyes, especially Nate’s.

The kind of hope they had could destroy a person.

“What?” Xander demanded.

The witch hesitated, then sighed. “If a dark fae opens a portal…”

Alaric leaned forward.

“…you could enter through it.”

The hope died immediately.

Nate frowned. “That’s all?” He rose a brow. “Wonderful.”

The bitterness in his voice made several witches lower their eyes.

Xanden spoke up. “So all we need is a dark fae.” He chuckled, losing all hope.

The witch said nothing.

Dark faes never entered the wolf realm. Not anymore.

Alaric rubbed a hand down his face. The room suddenly felt exhausting.

The witches had finally spoken, and somehow they still had nothing useful.

King Elijah looked toward the windows.

Night had already fallen.

Xander looked away first. His expression remained controlled, but only barely. He kept seeing her, and wondering how she might be feeling now.

Alaric felt them too. Every corner of the castle reminded him of her. Especially the gardens and the hallways. She was everywhere, and nowhere at once.

The witch lowered her head. “I am sorry.” She apologised.

Nobody answered. Sorry wasn’t enough. Sorry didn’t bring her back, open portals, or fix anything.

Nate suddenly turned away from everyone.

He walked toward the throne room doors, slowly.

Silently.

King Elijah frowned. “Nate.” He called.

Nate Co tinued approaching the door slowly.

“Nate.” He called again, this time firmly.

Still, he got no response. Nate continued walking.

Alaric immediately understood.

His stomach dropped.

“Nate.” He called him gently, and immediately ran after him.

Nate finally stopped when Alaruc met up with him. His shoulders shook once.

“I can’t feel her anymore.” He muttered, staring at the floor with hollow eyes.

Nate lowered his head further. “When she was hurt…” His voice cracked, and he sniffed. “…I always knew.”

His hands trembled. “When she was happy…” he shook his head. “…I knew that too.”

King Elijah closed his eyes. He understood that perfectly.

Nate stared at the floor. “But now?”

The silence stretched.

“I feel nothing.”

The confession sounded devastating.

Alaric’s chest tightened, and Xander looked away from them. The witches looked uncomfortable. Grief looked the same everywhere.

Nate parted his lips again. “If she’s alive…” His voice dropped further, broken and hopeless. “…then why can’t I feel her?”

Alaric remained painfully silent. He wasn’t having the best way to handle his grief too.

Nate stood motionless near the doors. His head remained lowered. His shoulders looked heavier than before, as though the weight of the last twenty-four hours had finally settled on him completely.

Alaric stared at him.

A witch near the back shifted nervously.

The movement drew attention immediately.

Several guards turned toward her, and the witch swallowed hard.

“I…” Her voice shook. “I might know why.”

Nate’s head lifted to her quickly.

The entire room looked at her.

“The fae realm is beyond different.”

Alaric’s eyes narrowed.

The witch looked toward Nate briefly before lowering her gaze again.

“The bond may still exist.” She said carefully. “But the fae realm sits outside many of the laws that govern ours.”

The witch nodded weakly.

“If the dark faes do not want a bond to be felt…” she swallowed, “…then it may not be felt.”

Nate stared at her.

His breathing stopped. Hope and dread collided inside him so violently that it physically hurt.

The witch lowered her head further.

“It does not necessarily mean she is dead.”

Nate shut his eyes. For the first time in hours, he managed to take a full breath. That managed to tug at his chest with a tiny spark of relief.

Xander immediately stepped forward.

“So the bond could be blocked but she’s alright?”

The witch nodded. “Possibly.”

Xanden gritted his teeth. That word wasn’t enough. Not even nearly enough, but it was better than nothing.

Alaric folded his arms. “What else?” He asked calmly after studying the look behind her eyes.

The witch hesitated, then she delivered the final blow.

“There is no way to force a path into the fae realm. A dark fae must not be forced, and there’s no way a dark fae would agree to open a portal for wolves to infiltrate their realm.”

The fragile hope in the room dimmed again.

Her voice became quieter. “The only thing you can do…” She looked toward the floor, hoping they don’t take her head for what she was about to say next.

“…is wait.”

Nate’s expression hardened instantly.

The witch visibly flinched at the dark gazes she felt on her. “You can only hope the dark faes return her.”

A terrible silence surrounded the hall. Every person in that room understood exactly how useless that sounded.

She should have as well just shut up.

Hope. Just hope.

No army, no portal, no rescue, no battle, and just hope.

Nate laughed.

The sound was quiet. He dragged a hand across his face and looked toward the ceiling.

Hope.

His mate was trapped in another realm and their solution was hope.

A muscle jumped in his jaw.

Then he turned and looked directly at the witches, and every single one of them lowered their heads.