Sacrificed

EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re going to be just fine,” Nathan whispered, his voice cracking as he leaned closer to Blaire. She lay motionless on the hospital bed, her skin pale, almost matching the white sheets. Four months into her fragile pregnancy, the doctors had insisted she remain hospitalised, fearing another emergency. Twice already, she had narrowly survived haemorrhages that had drained her of life and almost stolen her from him.

They had waited five long years for this child—a hope that had carried them through every disappointment, every unanswered prayer. But now, all Nathan could wish for was that this baby would let go. That it would leave, giving Blaire a chance to heal, a chance to survive.

Nathan stepped outside the hospital, pulling his jacket tighter against the cold. Winter was arriving with a vengeance, and the chill felt like an omen for the days ahead. He cursed himself for not taking the car. The walk was long, and the weight of his problems only made it harder.

He passed an alley. Something tugged at his peripheral vision. He paused and glanced down its length. The shadows stretched and twisted unnaturally in the dim light. He sighed and shook his head. What’s happening to me? He thought. He had started to see things in recent days. The other day, he thought he saw a shadow talking to Blaire. That was not even the worst part— she was responding.

She hadn’t talked to him in a while.

This particular shadow was undeniable, however. He turned back again, and his breath caught. A dark figure stood motionless in the alley, staring right back at him. It was almost human, yet there was something wrong—something otherworldly. For a fleeting moment, he thought of the Grim Reaper. He didn’t believe in such things, but why did his chest tighten with dread?

Nathan stepped away quickly, his pace quickening as he avoided meeting its gaze. PERHAPS it was a trick of his mind, the cruel conjuring of exhaustion and fear. Or perhaps it was actually not just a figment of his imagination.

Nathan Cameron had always been content with his life. He ran a small grocery store, a place that provided him with a sense of fulfilment. It was a simple life, much like Blaire’s had been before the child had taken everything from her. She had arrived out of nowhere into his life, and he had fallen in love with her almost instantly. Extremely beautiful, almost as if she were an angel. Now, all that reality seemed distant.

Nathan’s eyes darted around, scanning the street to see if he was still being watched by the strange figure, but he found nothing. His fingers slipped into his coat pockets, the cold metal of his shop keys grounding him, offering some small measure of reassurance. But his steps grew more hurried.

Then it happened.

He collided with someone. Unexpected. Jarring even. The stranger’s body blocked his path, and for a heartbeat, Nathan’s breathing stopped. He quickly stepped back, muttering a quick apology, his eyes flicking nervously toward the man’s face. Nathan tried to move around him, but the stranger’s hand shot out, gripping his arm with an unnatural strength. The sudden contact sent a chill running up Nathan’s spine, as if the cold from the stranger’s touch had bled through his jacket and into his very bones.

Nathan froze, his heart racing, his mind scrambling for control. He was barely dressed for the night—just a button-down shirt, trousers and a leather jacket which showed its age with the amount of scuff marks it bore—and now, with the stranger’s grip tightening, he felt more exposed than ever.

“Nathan Cameron, right?” The stranger said smoothly.

Nathan’s eyes narrowed. How did this man come to know his name? “Do I know you?”

The stranger’s lips curved into a subtle smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe. Maybe not,” he said, the pause hanging in the air like he was still threatening to say something else. “Probably not,” he added.

“Then how do you know me?” Nathan quipped.

The man’s grin widened, and now a glint of amusement danced in his eyes. Nathan felt like he had just given this man exactly what he wanted. “That’s not really important, Nate. Can I call you Nate?” His tone was casual.

Nathan’s brow furrowed. “No.” The word came out more forcefully than he intended, but his patience was thin. He had no time for strange men, especially those who seemed to think they could just follow him around and stop him like it was nobody’s business. He had bigger problems—problems that had nothing to do with being accosted by someone who was obviously trying to sell household objects to him. He would not be buying anything for his house, except it was from the store, and the sun was still up.

The stranger let out a soft scoff, “Humans these days are so rude.” Humans? What does that mean?

“Fine. Suit yourself.” The stranger’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating look. “I understand your wife is dying.”

The words hit Nathan like a slap to the face. His heart skipped a beat. So, he was one of the debt collectors’ people?

“How do you know that?” Nathan’s voice was sharp, defensive.

The man shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Again, not important. What is important—”

Nathan’s patience thinned again, and he interrupted the stranger, “Look, I’m sorry, but I have no business with you. Can I go?”

He tried to step around the stranger, but once again, the man’s grip tightened around his arm, pulling him back with unnerving strength.

“I’m still talking to you,” the man said calmly.

“But I’m done talking to you. Excuse me.”

Was anyone else witnessing this exchange? Why hadn’t they done anything to stop it yet?

For a moment, the man held him in place, then, as if deciding Nathan’s defiance wasn’t worth a fight, he let go. Nathan took a step away, eager to put distance between himself and this strange figure.

“You know—I could help you with your problem.”

Nathan paused, disbelief rising in his chest. “Listen, man, you can’t. Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“I will just answer your question so we can get this out of the way. I am Aiden, and I want to help you. I have been watching you for some time, and I know I can help you.”

Nathan’s stomach churned. “Watching me? Help me?” he was so close to losing it. “Help me?!” He almost shouted, his anger barely contained. “You’re not helping me. If you want to help me, get lost. And stop following me. If you are with Jackson, tell him I will get him his money later. STOP FOLLOWING ME.”

Aiden didn’t flinch. “I don’t know this Jackson you speak of. But what I mean is... I want to strike a deal with you.”

“Man,” Nathan sighed, already tired. He was drained for the day, he didn’t have any fight or willpower left in him. “Look, I don’t have time for this.”

“Shall we have coffee?” Aiden said as if he wasn’t hearing what Nathan was saying.

’What a jerk,” Nathan thought. ’He must be desperate. He is young. Maybe it’s important.’

Nathan decided to listen to Aiden. And that was the worst decision of his life.

“If I listen to you, will you let me go home?” Nathan’s voice was weary, his shoulders slumping.

“Of course,” Aiden said.

“I am listening.”

Even though Aiden’s smile widened even more, it still didn’t reach his eyes. “Good. It’s simple… I want your daughter.”

Nathan blinked twice, but the words did not fully register at first. “I don’t have a daughter. You’ve got the wrong guy.” His voice took on a sharp edge. “What kind of creep asks for someone else’s daughter on the street, anyway?”

Aiden’s expression didn’t falter.

“Okay, can I go now?” Nathan’s face contorted in disbelief. He must be a lunatic.

“I’m not done. I said I want your daughter because I want to help you deliver your wife of the baby.”

Nathan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “So, you’re a doctor?” His tone was cautious, “Look…”

“I could be, if I wanted to,” Aiden interrupted him yet again.

Nathan shook his head, still unsure of how to process what was happening. “How are you so sure it’ll be a girl? What, you need a child so badly or—”

“No,” Aiden cut him off, his gaze unwavering. “A wife.”

Nathan’s head drew back. “I see. Well... uh. Who the hell are you again?”

“Aiden.”

“First and last name.”

“Prince Aiden.”

So, doctor, rude, psycho, a pedo and a narcissist.

Nathan mentally noted the stranger’s features and name down so he could report the interaction.

“Well, Prince Aiden. I am not giving my non-existent daughter to you

“Just call my name when you’re ready.”

Nathan snorted, “I am good. Thanks.”

“I’ll be there.” Aiden’s words hung in the air, but before Nathan could respond, the man vanished, disappearing right in front of him.

Nathan stood frozen, his mind scrambling to make sense of what had just happened. He blinked and looked around, his gaze darting across the street, trying to find some sign that Aiden hadn’t just… disappeared. People were staring at him now, gawking at the strange man who had been talking to himself.

Nathan’s heart pounded in his chest as the realisation hit him: He was talking to himself. It wasn’t possible, was it?

*****

“Hello, Mr. Cameron.”

“Doctor Micah, I’m glad you called,” Nathan replied, forcing as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could. It was difficult to sound upbeat when his wife was teetering on the brink of death.

“Mr. Cameron, your wife had another incident.” Doctor Micah’s voice was steady, but the gravity in his words made Nathan’s chest tighten.

“What?” Nathan whispered, his heart sinking.

“I’m sorry, but we’ve done everything we can. She continues to bleed weekly, and the bills are piling up. Are you ready for the surgery? Your wife’s life is on the line.”

The words hit Nathan like a punch. He couldn’t afford the costs—he didn’t even have enough to pay for his wife’s treatment, let alone the incubator for their unborn child. His mind raced, but he could barely focus through the haze of dread clouding his thoughts.

“Okay… um, I’ll be right there,” Nathan stammered.

“Okay, sir.” Nathan’s hand shook as he dropped the phone, staring into thin air for nearly a minute. His mind was racing, but the quiet of the grocery store felt deafening. He shuffled to the door, flipping the sign to “Closed” and securing the entrance. Then, with a sense of finality, he walked toward the storage room.

“Mr—Mr. Prince? Prince Aiden.” The words left his mouth in a hesitant whisper. He felt absurd, speaking into the air.

“You called?”

Nathan’s heart leapt as the voice came from behind him. He spun around slowly, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of how Aiden could have entered. The unsettling chill in the air was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the storage room.

“What are you?” Nathan’s voice came out tight, a mix of fear and disbelief.

“Honestly... I don’t know.” Aiden replied, his smirk barely visible in the dim light. “But you called.”

“Yes, I’m ready to make that deal with you,” Nathan exhaled. He couldn’t believe himself.

Aiden grinned. “Good. Now, say bibbidi-bobbidi-boo.”

Nathan blinked, “Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo?”

Aiden’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’m playing,” he said, snapping his fingers. In the blink of an eye, a piece of paper materialised in front of Nathan. “Now, sign here.”

“Let me get a pen,” Nathan stumbled to get his words out. He couldn’t believe his eyes. This man just appeared out of thin air, and paper appeared with him?

“No, with your blood.”

“I’m not bleeding,” Nathan replied.

In a flash, Aiden grabbed Nathan’s arm and drew a gleaming dagger from thin air. Before Nathan could register, Aiden sliced through his skin.

“You are now,” Aiden said.

Nathan gasped in pain as the warm blood began to pool from the cut. “Holy shit,” he hissed, watching in stunned silence as his blood dripped onto the paper. The blood moved on its own and before Nathan knew it, his name was in dark red cursive on the paper.

*****

SIXTEEN YEARS AGO.

Nathan sat at the dinner table, the dim light from the overhead lamp casting long shadows as he counted the day’s wages. His mind was clouded with exhaustion, but his gaze flickered to the floor where his young daughter, Winter, sat, immersed in her own world of dress-up with her dolls.

“Daddy, look!” Winter’s voice broke through the silence, and she held out a toy in front of Nathan’s face.

Nathan’s lips curled into a smile. “That’s pretty,” he murmured, his heart aching for the innocence of his little girl. He had named her Winter—a beautiful name, with its own meaning.

A light breeze brushed the back of his neck, and he stiffened. Not again.

“Nice of you to join us, Aiden,” Nathan muttered.

“Well, you’re used to me by now. Glad we can finally be friends.”

“We are not friends,” Nathan replied.

Aiden pouted exaggeratedly, feigning disappointment. “Well, that’s a shame,” he said before a soft chuckle escaped his lips. “But I didn’t come here for you, Nathan. I came here to make sure you hadn’t run away.” He turned toward Winter, effortlessly picking her up and cradling her in his arms.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

“You’ve got that right, Nate.” Winter stared up at Aiden, her wide, trusting eyes unaware of the weight in Aiden’s voice, of the twisted connection he had to her.

Nathan’s stomach churned as he watched the scene unfold. The unnatural affection in Aiden’s touch unsettled him, but he was powerless to do anything. He had made the deal.

“Drop her.”

Aiden’s eyes flickered with amusement, but he complied, releasing Winter from his grip. Nathan sprang from his seat, his heart pounding, but before Winter could hit the ground, Aiden’s magic took hold. She hung suspended in the air.

“That is not a funny joke to play, Aiden,” Nathan shouted, panic rising in his chest as Aiden gently floated Winter into his waiting arms.

“You must admit, it’s a bit funny,” Aiden replied, his voice dripping with mockery.

“You’re sick.”

Aiden shrugged, unaffected. “Hmm, perhaps.”

“Aiden, you can’t marry her.”

“And why not?”

“Because she’s a child,” Nathan spat, his voice thick with anger.

Aiden’s smile deepened, but there was no warmth in it. “Well, that’s why I’m waiting for her to be an adult. I am not in love with your daughter or anything, you know that, right? There are some lines that even I can’t cross. This is just because she is part of something greater.”

“What is it? Tell me. Why can’t it be another person?”

“Are humans always this selfish? Selling others for their own? We made a deal, Nathan.”

Nathan’s stomach twisted. “I should have listened to Blaire when she said I shouldn’t do it. Of course, she wouldn’t have known about any of this, but it was a sign from God.” Aiden had an expression on his face, but it was long gone before Nathan could decipher what it was. “Blaire died. You said you were going to save her—and you didn’t.”

“I never said I was going to save her,” he said with a casual flick of his fingers. “I said, and I quote, ’I will deliver Blaire of the baby.’ Big difference.” His gaze drifted to his nails, as if Nathan’s pain were a mere distraction.

“You’re a bastard,” Nathan muttered through gritted teeth. “Demented and sick,” he hissed, his voice low with disgust.

“Word of advice. Watch your mouth when talking to me. As for my plan, I don’t have to explain it to you. You may just ask Imara what she kept from you when you get to heaven.”

“Who is Imara?” Nathan asked, but just as he had arrived, Aiden had left.

Imara. He knew that name; he had heard it before.