The Immortal Prince ✔️

34

He grabs Trace again, knocking his head back against the wall. The sound echoes through the room, accompanied by Trace's pained groan. Hale is taking his time with him, enjoying the suffering of the man who once killed his mate.

Hale backs away, brushing his hands together. Trace reaches behind him, and when he pulls his hand back, it's covered in blood.

He stumbles to his feet, bracing himself on the wall.

"Fight me like a man," he growls, raising his fists.

I'm not sure why he would think he would fare any better against Hale in a fist fight, but if he sits here, he's going to be killed regardless.

"You are not a man. You are a coward. And you will die like one."

Hale wanders around the kitchen, opening and closing drawers, letting Trace sit in the uncomfortably silence, awaiting his fate.

With Hale's back turned, I can see Trace's eyes wandering to the door, but even my delirious state from blood loss, I know he would be a fool to make that move.

Hale picks a particularly large knife from the drawer, stalking over to Trace, who has been edging toward the door.

"I want to be the one to bring you your final breath. I've wanted that the moment I found out what you did to Vaela," he growls, before pushing the knife into Trace's stomach.

I squeeze my eyes shut before I can witness anything too graphic, hearing the thud of Trace's body on the floor.

Peeking my eyes open, I see him clutching his stomach, looking at me with wide eyes.

"I love you," he whispers, before his eyes flutter closed, and he rolls onto his back. As I watch the life seep from him, I don't feel anything but numbness. I've wanted him dead for so long, and seeing it now doesn't feel like how I thought it was.

But maybe that is because I'm bleeding out right now onto the floor.

Hale checks his pulse, before turning to me. "He's dead."

"And so am I," I breathe, feeling myself slump back, unable to find anymore energy to keep myself propped up.

Hale is at my side in a moment, finally noticing my blood soaked shirt and what has spilled down onto the floor around me. "Woah, Vae, what's going on?"

"I'm dying Hale. My stomach," I grit out, a dark vignette shading the outside of my vision as I come closer to falling unconcious.

Hale lifts the edge of my shirt, examine the wound on my stomach. "Oh fuck. He did this to you?"

I nod, trying to concentrate on my breathing.

"It's okay, I know a great healer in the mortal realm who can help you. Just hold on," he says, the panic evident in his voice as he draws his arms under me.

The moment he picks me up, however, I lose my fight with consciousness, and fall into the depths of darkness.

The next time I wake, the pain hits me in waves, making it impossible to move as my eyes flutter open, wincing at the light above me.

It takes a few moments for my memory to find me again, as an unfamiliar woman comes to stand over me.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"Alive, but barely."

"You should be okay now, just stay lying down for awhile," she instructs, adjusting my pillow for me. I have no idea where I am, although I vaguely remember Hale telling me he was bringing me to a healer in the mortal realm.