The scent of love still clung to the sheets.
His lips on hers, a taste of heaven.
The note by her pillow.
Her beloved lion. Rotting.
The teeth. The tearing. The claiming that was desecration-
Elena woke from her dreams with a gasp, lungs struggling to pull air into a body that felt impossibly heavy. Bandages wrapped her from neck to thigh, coarse cloth pressing against the angry swell of her wounds. Even the smallest movement sent fire racing through her veins.
Her hand was warm. Jaime's hand, gripping hers, was steady but trembling. His dark eyes were locked on her face- eyes that had never looked like this, devastated yet restrained, holding back a storm that threatened to consume him.
"Mi Doña," he whispered, voice raw. "You're awake."
She tried to speak, but her throat felt clogged with gravel. Tears spilled before she could stop them.
Jaime's chest heaved. He bent forward, pressing his forehead to hers, and cried with her. "I should never have left. Never. I am so sorry, Elena… I should have stayed. I could have stopped this. I-" His voice cracked. "I left you. Alone. I… I failed you."
Elena summoned what little strength she had to squeeze his hand once. A deliberate, measured squeeze. Her eyes said what she couldn't- Stop. You did what you could. His lips trembled, but he nodded.
Her eyes closed again, exhaustion dragging her under. Jaime stayed bent over her, whispering apologies, pressing gentle kisses to her hair, holding her as though sheer will alone could protect her from what had been done.
Once he quieted, sitting back in his chair with little more than a huff, Aurora crossed the small healer's hut, kneeling beside the cot to wipe the tears still wet on Elena's cheeks.
"She'll be okay," she murmured, voice steel beneath softness. "Elena's survived death before. She'll survive this, too. She's too stubborn to give in."
Jaime only nodded, jaw tight, eyes unfathomable. Keeping it locked away was the only way he could breathe without breaking entirely.
Guabancex stirred, Elena's eyes opening to glow faintly, so very faintly, with her violet light:
Coatriskie, he has hurt us. Not just my vessel… us.
The air stilled. No one spoke. Even the goddess wept, her tears glowing as they struck the floor.
A week passed. Elena remained under constant care, her body knitting itself back together at its own pace. Calming tinctures and sedatives eased the pain, but every movement, every breath was a reminder. She was not leaving the healer's hut anytime soon.
The children were devastated. Juan and Esperanza had scrubbed the cottage themselves, cleansing every trace of blood. Esperanza rarely left, lingering as though she could help her mother simply by surrounding her with wards and sigils. She struggled with her new adult body, unfamiliar and heavy, but the greater burden was emotional: the betrayal of a father she had trusted.
Juan became her anchor. Whenever Esperanza wept, he whispered that he loved her. Sometimes she pressed a kiss to his hand, silent gratitude. Often, he simply held her, grounding her until her body stopped shaking.
Phineus was harder to comfort. After he confided the visions he'd seen to Señora Behike, he began training her apprentice. He swore, even at seven, that no one would ever harm his family again if he could see the signs first. The weight sat heavily on his shoulders, but he bore it with solemn determination.
Alejandro and Vera were shaken to their cores. Niegal had been family, blood, brother, uncle- and now he was something else entirely. Vera fell silent, stopping her usual play, instead sticking close to her father, learning from him and Aurora alike. Both sought grounding in their routine as Aurora worked round the clock to heal Elena.
The elders voted unanimously: Niegal Matteo was no longer one of their people. He would leave the Sanctuary and never return. If he returned, he would die.
Alejandro was appointed to escort him. Every step pressed into Alejandro's chest like a physical weight.
Niegal- his former business partner, brother-in-law, confidant- walked silently beside him. Alejandro's hands clenched at his sides, rage and grief warring with duty. He remembered late nights planning trade routes, strategies to protect the Sanctuary, laughter shared in victory and in defeat during the rebellion in the United Territories. And now, he led this man away as a criminal.
"Niegal," Alejandro said finally, voice low, tight. "Look at me."
Niegal did not. The absence of the lion inside him did nothing to ease the rot still burning in his veins.
Alejandro's jaw tightened. "I don't even know if I can call you brother anymore. Do you hear me? Look at what you've done! Look at what you let happen!"
Niegal swallowed. No words came. Alejandro's fists trembled from barely contained fury and heartbreak. Every memory they shared pressed on him like a knife.
"I've lost you, Niegal," Alejandro said, voice cracking for a fraction of a second. "I don't know if I can forgive you… or even if I want to. But I will not let you return. Not here. Not to them. Not to the Sanctuary."
Niegal flinched. He wanted to speak, to beg, to explain- but Alejandro's gaze burned through him. He could not.
At the outer gate, Alejandro unlocked the chains, fingers lingering on the cold iron as if reluctant to let go. Beyond the gate, the jungle waited. Wild, indifferent.
"Good luck," Alejandro said, voice breaking faintly. "I hope… I hope you find your peace… somewhere."
Niegal said nothing.
Alejandro turned, walking away with his hand pressed to his chest, feeling the ache of a bond shattered. The gate slammed shut.
Niegal dropped to his knees and wept.