His Singularity

Chapter 37

Alaric's POV

In high stress situations, the human body kicks in to fight/flight mode. Lycans sink into fight mode. I turn into annhilation mode which is probably why everyone is steering clear of me.
After ten days releasing my pent up aggression on the local wildlife, you would think I would have calmed down. It usually works. Instead my predatory instincts are sharper than they have ever been.

"Hey, Alaric." Kailani greets sitting down next to me.

"Hello, Kailani." I may be bloodthirsty, but to harm a nymph is a crime against nature.

"How are you?"
I have never known how to answer that question. When I was younger I would give a detailed report of my current state until Ace explained that the question pertains to both my physical and emotional wellbeing. So I developed a system to calculate my holistic wellbeing.
Arya later explained that my system was flawed in that my physical and emotional wellbeing should contribute in equal amounts to the overall number. It does not make much sense to me since there are so many different aspects of physical wellbeing, but I adapted the correction.

Enumerating my emotional wellbeing feels impossible at the moment. How do I feel? I feel empty, as though something is missing which does not make any sense to me. All of my body parts are present and functioning perfectly. Yet, I feel lacking in some way.

I also feel anger, I think. But it is miniscule compared to the emptiness. Which makes quantifying my current state difficult.

"Not good." I decide. Not good at all.

"None of us are good." True.
I may have been in my own haze but I have not failed to notice Arya's red eyes or the purple marks under Ace's.

Being in a room with Valdus is unpleasant as it is always hot.

The others do not seem too bothered. They are more interested in my state. I think they are preparing to kill me.

"The healer says being outside is not helping. She has coded two more times." She is dying.
The words are unspoken, but understood.

Guilt. I think Ace said this emotion is guilt. I always thought I had more time with her. I thought I was keeping her safe. But apparently, I could not keep her safe from her own recklessness.

Why would she take such a massive risk with her life? We could have found another solution. Why would she drink what is essentially poison to her frail body?

Why did she not tell anyone what the ceremony would do to her?

I inhale sharply ignoring the severe contracting of my laryngeal muscles.

She should not be fighting for her life right now. She should not even have had to join our pack. The court's decision was unreasonable. Perhaps we should not have offered to let her join our pack. Or we should have at least done more research.
But there was very little time. She should not have been dealt the cards that she has. Her life has been difficult enough.

She should not be alone. She might still be comatose, but Nebula did not like being alone. She was such a people person. Is. She is still alive.

I stand up and walk through the tunnels into the cave Willow insisted we put her in.

When she first coded, her brother's voice rang in my ear and we took her outside. Willow explained that a witch's body draws power from nature which is why we brought her here. This cave is supposed to be abundant in magic power. Isla was gracious enough to let us use it. High ranking witches come here to replenish their magic when they are well and truly drained. It is also something of a healing cove for them. Willow has been researching and trying everything that she can, but she informed us that it is not working.

We even brought her Nebula's grimoire but she cannot use it. Isla has been trying to break the spell put on it for five thousand and two hundred minutes to no avail.

Nebula is dying.

I know it, I just have trouble processing it.

There are so many things I had planned for our future. I was going to take her to Gleba's for our first date. She would have loved the hearty flavour-filled food there.
I also wanted to take her to my spot. Maybe buy her a telescope.
We would have adventures exploring the wonders of nature and hair days where she would show me how to twist her lustrious curls.
I imagined I would build her a house, similar to the one she lived in and she would fill it with laughter and happy memories.

I wanted that. I still do. And I only want it with her. She was going to cook while I fight.

But I took her for granted.

I was overly focused on the mission.

The mission is still my first priority. But I should have found more time for her.
I suppose I always thought she would be there. That I could focus on building a relationship once the mission is over and everyone is safe.

Regret.

I am feeling too many emotions I am not familiar with.

As I enter the cave, the overpowering scent of herbs and oils assaults my nose. I bear with it; they are meant to be helping her.

I ignore the court healer and focus on Nebula. She is so breathtakingly beautiful. Even as pale and sickly as she is now, she is still the most beautiful person I have ever seen.

I just wish she would open her eyes.

I yearn to see the passion burning in those azure orbs. Unlike with other people, I never struggle to discern her emotions. Not with such an expressive face and passionate eyes.

"She is a foolish one." My enter body freezes and coils.
"It is one thing to join a cult, but to cast a Mori-Magicka on yourself." She tsks. My ears train in on her as a red haze clouds my vision. "Then she goes and drinks lycan blood. I don't even know why they are making me heal her."

It does not take me two seconds to cover the distance between us and crush her throat with my hand. Her body does not even have time for the adrenaline to kick in before she is in a heap on the floor.

"What the fuck!" An annoying voice screeches as a large group enters the cave.

"What did you do, Alaric?" Dawn's voice sounds scared. They should be.

"Calm down, she's not dead." Arya informs them. Something they should have been able to sense for themselves.

Enough of this shit. I return back to Nebula's side.

"We allow you to use our sacred cave and this is how you repay us? Vile beasts." The young witch spits.

"Leave! And take that pathetic excuse for a witch with you!"
These witches all want to die. I will happily oblige.

"Shit."
Aedion intercepts me, but I toss him aside before he can stop me. I feel someone grip my shirt. Who needs one anyway? It rips as I continue on my hunt. Renho is next and tries to stop me with her katana.
It does not take much for me to break it once I grip the edge before punching her out of the way. Braeden roars and comes at me. Slow. His face meets my fist and the satisfying sound of bones cracking echos from the walls of the cave.

The witch is gone. Arya must have taken her. Good. I love a good hunt.

Blackness descends upon me. Aedion.

Nebula. I can no longer scent her.

Releasing a thunderous growl, I transform into my beast form.
Even Aedion's magic cannot stop me in this form. The stab to the heart I feel, though. That might be enough.

My senses begin to dull again, but I drag myself over to her.

Mine.

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Thoughts?

Sorry for the late update. Had a busy week.

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