The Way 8
Damn it, I need to escape.
Morgana got a quarter of the Moonstone through the help of the witch. I didn’t how they did it but I knew the spell was a powerful one. As if she waited for this moment to happen.
The shattered remnants of the Moonstone glinted ominously in the moonlight as I fled through the woods, my heart pounding with the realization. I fell into her trap!
My chest heaved with every ragged breath, each inhalation a painful reminder of the wounds that were slowing me down. The forest around me was a blur of shadows and faint, haunting sounds–every crack of a twig or rustle of leaves seemed magnified in my heightened state of awareness.
The battle with Morgana had been fierce, fueled by my anger and the Moonstone‘ s remaining power. I tried hard, even though the Moonstone was cracked, but the power was unstable and I didn’t know how to use it when it was damaged so badly. Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.
But as the fight progressed, it became clear that Morgana’s goal wasn’t merely to defeat me but to get the whole Moonstone from me. She had orchestrated the entire confrontation, using my rage to get
what she wanted.
She triggered me using my son’s death! She knew there was no way I would tell her where it was. She knew that I would never even use it unless something as bad as my son’s death happened.
Her sinister plan had succeeded, leaving me with nothing but one–third of the fragments of the once–mighty gem and a rapidly deteriorating strength.
“Shit,” I growled amidst running away. I knew they were still after me! But thankfully, I managed to get away because the Moonstone Thad was still bigger compared to what Morgana had with her.
With every step, the pain in my side intensified. Blood soaked my wolf form’s fur, and the chill of the night air only exacerbated the ache.
I stumbled over roots and rocks, struggling to keep my footing. My senses, once sharp and responsive, were growing dull with each passing moment. The Moonstone’s power was diminishing, and so was my ability to heal. The injuries inflicted during the battle seemed to pulse with their own energy, resisting any attempts at self–healing.
Morgana attacked me when she had a quarter of the Moonstone in her hand. That must be the reason why I couldn’t heal myself. The remaining Moonstone could heal me but my body had already weakened to the point that I could not use its power already.
As I ran, my mind raced with thoughts of revenge. I needed to make her pay for what she had done. But with each step, the reality of my weakened state was undeniable. I had to escape before Morgana and her witch ally could catch up and kill me just like what they did to Cassian.
I was nearing the edge of the heart of the forest when suddenly, my wolf form was slowly turning into my human form. As I pushed forward, my vision began to blur. The ground beneath me seemed to tilt, and my breath came in short, painful gasps. My legs were growing heavier as if the forest itself was conspiring to keep me from my escape. My strength was nearly gone, and I could feel my
consciousness slipping away.
Just as I reached the tree near me for support, a powerful wave of dizziness overwhelmed me. I felt my legs buckle beneath me.
Before I collapsed and before the darkness closed in completely, I felt a pair of strong arms envelop me, lifting me off with a gentle yet firm grip. The warmth of the embrace contrasted sharply with the cold and pain I had been enduring.
“Hold on,
a deep, soothing voice whispered urgently near my ear.
I tried to respond, to express my gratitude, or to identify my rescuer, but my voice failed me. My vision dimmed, and the comforting presence of my savior was the last thing I felt before slipping into
unconsciousness.
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