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Andrei’s POV
I waited until we were alone to tell Natalia and Grace everything. We made our way to what remained of the study; one wall was blown out, covered now by a tarp that did nothing to keep the cold air from seeping in, even with a fire blazing in the fireplace.
This room had once been my sanctuary, and now it was a mess of scattered books, overturned furniture, and papers. But I hardly cared about that anymore. Not after what I had seen in Bloodmoon. Things could be rebuilt, but people? I’d seen too much carnage in that battle to care about furniture and books anymore.
We righted the desk and some chairs, and sat down. Grace leaned forward expectantly on her chair, and Natalia stared at me with shock and confusion.
My throat bobbed. I didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to see the hope drain from their faces. Didn’t want to say it out loud because it made it feel too real. But they both deserved the truth, so I would tell them.
“Helena is dead,” I started. “Celeste killed her.”
The battleaxe came down on Helena’s skull. I would never forget the sound of that wet crunch, nor the sight of the blood spraying across the floor, across my boots, and across the face of a woman far older than her years.
Celeste.
She had to have had the body of an eighty year old now. A few minutes ago, I wouldn’t have believed it; but now that I looked down at my hands and saw that the skin had grown slightly darker and more leathery, I knew the truth.
She fell alongside her mother, twisted form clutching the woman who birthed her. Celeste’s sobs filled the air, each one sending a pang through my chest.
“Mom!” she cried, tugging her mother’s limp form closer. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to–I had to!”
I took a step closer, suddenly feeling able to move again now that Helena’s commands had died on her lips. She was gone already. Not with a great cry or a final speech, but simply a crunch and a puddle of blood.
The great Helena… Reduced to a pile of guts and bone.
Celeste looked up at me through her aged, tear–filled eyes. The axe sat beside her, bloodied and forgotten.
“Kill me,” she commanded. “I want to die with her. I can’t bear to live now!”
I hesitated, glancing at the axe. I could do it. I could end her life swiftly and painlessly. Her body was twisted and gnarled, aged far beyond her years, her limbs bent at unnatural angles with permanent contusions marking her spine.
It was as if her body had already been broken–and had not healed before the aging process. Her bones had reformed like that, broken and battered, leaving her permanently disfigured. It had to be excruciating.
But I couldn’t do it. Even as I looked into her rheumy eyes, once bright but now clouded with cataracts, I couldn’t bring myself to kill her.
“I’m not going to kill you,” I said firmly. I crouched down, wrapping my arm around her waist and another under her knees, and lifted her. She protested weakly but didn’t have the strength to fight back as I carried her over to a
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Chapter 387
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chair and gently lowered her. “You saved my life, and many others. I won’t let you die.”
Celeste clutched at my shirt. “But I can’t go on like this. My body-
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“There must be a way to reverse the aging.” Even as I said it, it felt impossible, but I couldn’t let go of hope. If a ruby could be created that could cause someone to age rapidly, then there must be one that could do the opposite.
Celeste looked uncertain. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll find a way.” I clutched her hand, feeling the papery skin for a moment, then straightened. My brother still needed me my warriors still needed me. Now wasn’t the time for what–ifs. I glanced at Alexander, who was still completely unresponsive, but alive. It took all of two seconds to know that he was incapable of leading the pack right now.

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