KAEL POV
I threw myself between Isla and Morana's corrupted vines half a second before they would have pierced her heart.
Pain exploded through my shoulder as black thorns sank deep. My corrupted core screamed in response—recognizing its own poison, welcoming it like an old friend.
No. Not now. Not when Isla needs me.
"KAEL!" Isla's hands grabbed my face, and golden light poured from her fingers into my wound.
The corruption recoiled, hissing. The vines withered and fell away.
Around us, chaos erupted. Draven roared and released a wall of fire that incinerated half the corrupted plants. Rhydian's wings created hurricane winds that scattered the approaching males. Theron's wolf pack formed a defensive circle, snarling at anyone who got close.
But Morana just laughed.
"How sweet. The dying Chief playing hero." Her eyes locked on mine, and I saw something worse than hatred there. Pity. "You have three weeks left, Nightshade. Maybe four if you're lucky. That girl can't save you. She can barely save herself."
"Three weeks?" Isla's voice cracked behind me. "Kael, is that true?"
I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Because Morana was right.
The corruption had been spreading faster lately. My shifts were getting more painful, more unstable. Yesterday I'd lost control for fifteen seconds—just fifteen—but I'd nearly killed one of my own warriors before my second-in-command knocked me unconscious.
Three weeks was optimistic.
"Run with me," I growled at Isla. "Trust me. Please."
She hesitated for only a heartbeat. Then her hand found mine. "Where?"
"AWAY!"
I shifted mid-run, my panther form bursting out in a painful rush of bones and muscle. I grabbed Isla's arm gently in my jaws—careful not to hurt her—and LAUNCHED into the forest.
Behind us, Draven's dragon form took flight, carrying Rhydian. Theron's pack scattered to create false trails. The other males roared and gave chase, but my territory was MY territory. I knew every tree, every shadow, every hidden path.
We ran for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. My corrupted core burned with each stride, but I pushed harder. Faster.
Finally, I burst through a concealed entrance into the Shadow Temple—an ancient cave system that predated even the oldest tribes. I set Isla down carefully and shifted back to human.
"Are they following?" she gasped.
"Theron's pack is leading them in circles. Draven took Rhydian to the Sky Peaks to draw attention there. We have maybe an hour before they find this place." I pressed my hand against the cave wall, and ancient symbols flared to life. "The temple will seal once we're inside. Not even Morana can break wards set by the first Heartweavers."
"The first—you mean there were others like me?"
"Six in recorded history. You're the seventh." I moved deeper into the cave, lighting torches with my beast fire. "Each one changed the Beastworld. Each one died too young."
"That's encouraging," Isla muttered, but she followed.
The main chamber took my breath away, like it did every time. Walls covered in glowing murals showing Heartweavers healing impossible wounds, bonding with multiple mates, creating new tribes. And in the center—a crystal pool that reflected not the ceiling but the stars themselves.
"This is beautiful," Isla whispered.
"This is sacred." I approached the pool carefully. "Heartweaver blood activates the ancient knowledge stored here. If you—"
"Kael, you're shaking."
I was. Gods damn it, I was. The corruption flared again, sending shockwaves of pain through my chest. My vision blurred. I stumbled and caught myself against a pillar.
Isla was at my side instantly. "Sit down before you fall down."
"I'm fine."
"You're dying." Her voice was gentle but firm. Doctor voice. Scientist voice. "Three weeks, Morana said. Were you going to tell me?"
"What difference would it make?" The words came out harsher than I meant. "You can't fix twenty years of corruption in a few days. The best shamans in the Beastworld have tried."
"But I'm not a shaman." Isla knelt in front of me, her eyes determined. "I'm a biochemist. I look at diseases as systems that can be understood, broken down, cured. Your corruption isn't magic to me—it's a biological problem. And problems have solutions."
Hope hurt worse than the corruption. "Isla—"
"Let me try." She placed her hand over my heart. "Please. I can't watch another person die because someone evil decided they should. Not again."
Another person. Marcus. Her partner who betrayed and killed her.
I understood then. Isla wasn't just scared of the Beastworld. She was scared of trusting anyone after being destroyed by trust.
And she was choosing to trust ME anyway.
"Okay," I whispered.
Golden light flowed from her palm into my chest. I gasped as her power wrapped around my corrupted core, gentle but strong. I felt her consciousness touch mine—felt her seeing every dark thought, every fear, every time I'd wanted to give up and just let the corruption win.
"You've been in pain for so long," she breathed. Tears streaked down her face. "Every shift hurts. Every breath is a battle. How are you still sane?"
"My tribe needs me. That's enough."
"No." Her power pulsed stronger. "That's not enough. YOU need to matter too. Not just as Chief. As Kael."
Something in my chest cracked. Not my core—something deeper. The wall I'd built between myself and hope, between duty and desire.
The corruption fought back, lashing out at Isla's power. She cried out in pain but held on.
"I see it now," she gasped. "The source. It's not spreading randomly—it's alive. Almost like a parasite, feeding on your beast energy to reproduce. If I can starve it while boosting your natural healing—"
Her power surged, and for the first time in twenty years, the pain LESSENED.
Not gone. But... better.
I could breathe without agony. Could think without the constant buzz of corruption in my head.
"Isla." My voice broke. "How—"
She collapsed forward into my chest, exhausted. "Just bought you time. Maybe three months instead of three weeks. But the source is still there. I need to figure out how to kill it completely without killing you too."
Three months. Ninety days. An eternity compared to what I had before.
I wrapped my arms around her, this impossible female who'd fallen from the sky and given me something I'd thought was lost forever.
Hope.
"Thank you," I whispered into her hair.
"Don't thank me yet. We still have to—"
The temple wards flared red.
Someone was trying to break through. No—multiple someones. I felt the barrier weakening under coordinated assault.
"They found us already?" Isla pulled back, fear in her eyes.
"Not the males." I stood, my beast rising despite my exhaustion. "This is organized. Planned. Morana."
The wards shattered like glass.
Corrupted beasts poured through the entrance—dozens of them, eyes glowing black, cores completely consumed. And behind them, calmly walking through the chaos, Morana smiled.
"Did you really think ancient wards could stop someone who BUILT them?" She raised her hand, and every corrupted beast turned toward us. "I was the third Heartweaver, little Shadow Chief. I know every secret of this temple. Including the one you're standing on."
I looked down. The crystal pool beneath our feet was glowing wrong—not gold or silver but sick, pulsing black.
"You corrupted the sacred pool?" Isla breathed. "But that's—"
"My masterpiece." Morana's eyes gleamed. "I've been poisoning it for two centuries, waiting for another Heartweaver to activate it. And you just did, little fool, when you poured your power into him."
The black water erupted upward, wrapping around both of us like chains.
I couldn't move. Couldn't shift. My core screamed as the corruption multiplied inside me, racing through my veins faster than ever before.
"KAEL!" Isla struggled against the poisoned water, her power flickering.
"The pool links Heartweaver to mate," Morana explained almost gently. "That's how bonding works. But a corrupted pool? It shares corruption instead of strength. In about thirty seconds, you'll both be dead."
Twenty seconds.
Fifteen.
Ten.
I looked at Isla—this brilliant, brave, impossible woman—and realized I was going to die failing to protect her.
Then her eyes changed. Went completely gold. Not glowing. BURNING.
"No," Isla said. Her voice echoed with power that made the cave walls shake. "I don't accept your death. I don't accept MINE. And I definitely don't accept your corruption."
She grabbed my hand.
And dove into the poisoned pool, pulling me with her.