Chapter 0447

My lungs burn as I suck in a desperate breath.

Alive. How?

"Magnus?"

Silence. My limbs feel like lead. The last thing I remember—the battlefield. Victor's silver eyes. The bullet tearing through my chest.

Am I dead? The eerie quiet suggests so. No clashing steel. No screams. Just ragged breathing and muffled groans.

"I love you too, Victor." Isolde's voice flickers in my mind, weak as a dying ember.

"Isolde!" I scream internally, but her presence slips away like smoke through my fingers.

I force myself up. "Isolde!" My voice cracks.

There. Collapsed on the bloodied earth. Seraphina and Evelyn hover over her, shaking her shoulders. "Isolde!" Their cries slice through the haze.

I crawl. Every inch is agony.

"What happened?" I rasp. Nearby, Adrian stirs, his face ashen.

"We were losing. Everyone was—" Seraphina chokes. "You, Adrian, Sebastian... gone."

I drag Isolde into my arms. Her pulse flutters—barely there.

Sebastian staggers over, crushing Seraphina against him. "Explain," he demands, staring at Isolde's limp form.

Evelyn exhales. "She channeled our power. Mine to kill the hunters. Seraphina's healing to revive the packs." She touches her chest. "I feel them all now. Every broken tether... mended."

Theodore limps closer, blood crusted on his temple. "Not just you. She drained everyone. We couldn't move after. If the hunters had survived..."

"Everyone?" Adrian's shock mirrors mine.

"You knew she could do this?" He glares at the Guardians.

Seraphina shakes her head. "We felt the connection. Not this."

"Home. Now." I bark orders to Leopold. "Get our people back. Help the wounded."

Carrying Isolde slows me. Weakness claws at me. Magnus's absence is a gaping wound.

Tires screech. Seraphina Whitmore's car skids to a halt. "How?" Her hands tremble as she helps me load Isolde inside. "I felt Donovan die."

The car lurches forward. I cradle Isolde, bracing her against the jolts.

"We don't know," I admit. "She's alive, but fading. Save her." My throat tightens. I was ready to die. Living without her? Unthinkable.

Seraphina's gaze flicks to the rearview mirror. "The baby first. Aurora's protecting it—not healing Isolde."

The world tilts. "Baby?"

Her eyes widen. "She didn't tell you?" At my silence, she pales. "She wanted it to be... special."

Of course. I'd have locked her away if I'd known. But without her, we'd all be corpses.

Seraphina shudders—thinking of Donovan, no doubt. Too many understand that pain today.

As we reach the hospital, she asks, "The hunters?"

I step out, Isolde and our child pressed to my chest. "Slaughtered. Grace's work. No survivors."

The aftermath will be hell. Burning bodies. Hiding the carnage from humans.

But none of that matters now.

Only her.