The Sacrifice Of The Cursed {2}

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After Amoux and Accalia spent almost an hour in each other’s embrace, Shadow and I ran back to the house. And since then, I had not left Amara’s side.
I even slept on the floor by her bed as the herbs Brook gave her kept her unconscious. When I woke up this morning, Amoux was a lot calmer. But both of us were, and still are, the most scared we have ever been.
Now, I stare at the early sunlight as I hold Amara’s hand. I remain sitting on the floor, not finding it in me to get up or even move because I am too afraid that if I move, then maybe she will wake up or the decaying will begin.
I keep catching myself imaging what will happen if she actually does die, but I always force myself to race away these thoughts because they will only make me unable to focus on anything.
What the bloody hell are we going to do? Amoux asks. And I have no answer. I look down at my free hand that lies on my lap to find it shaking. I attempt to will it to stay still, but that only makes it shake more vigorously. Nonetheless, I do not allow my panic to control my mind. Amara deserves better than having me panic when she needs me the most. I have failed her enough times in the past; I cannot do that again.
It is for that reason that both Josh and Nick have been searching for an antidote despite what Owen said. Despite searching all night, they still did not find anything. Regardless, I choose to be hopeful; I cannot afford doing the opposite.
Owen is another thing that occupies my troubled thoughts. I still have the urge to rip his throat out with my teeth, but I will have plenty of time to deal with him once the brothers find a way to save Amara.
I carefully turn around and face Amara’s relaxed expression. That expression settles a fire inside my head.
It is as if I am standing at the top of a long set of stairs. The bottom cannot be seen; it is filled with utter darkness; perhaps it is hell, perhaps it is death, perhaps it is self loathing, I do not know. Every emotion I have; fear, anger, worry, betrayed, each emotion forces me to descend a step. I do not want to reach the last stair, but I cannot control my legs and stop them from moving down.
I am bloody scared. Amoux interrupts my thoughts.
I know Amoux, I am scared too. I am even more scared to let go of her hand. If this was not about Amara, he would have never admitted being frightened. And that, makes me feel more unsettled, if Amoux is scared enough to confess being consumed by trepidation, then the situation is way worse than I had hoped for it to be.
What are we going to do if we cannot bloody save her?
You cannot think like that Amoux.
Well, it is the only thing I can bloody think about! We cannot kid ourselves by saying that only good things might bloody come out of this!
I know that Amoux, but thinking about the worst will not make things better.
It seems like the only thing we can bloody do at the moment.
Amoux whimpers, which I find quite bizarre and unexpected.
What do you mean?
Look at her bloody hand.
His tone takes me by surprise; it is as if he is crying.
I do what he asks and my heart almost stops at the sight. Amara’s thumb, right under my pinky is completely decayed. I stare at it in panic not knowing what to do or what to say. I just reached the stair where the darkness begins and I do not know what to do.
Chance where are you?
Shadow and I are still searching the territory like you ordered us to last night.
For get about that now, both of you come to Amara’s room immediately.
We are on our way.
He replies without asking any questions.
I stare at my hand that holds Amara, and it is not only shaking but it is turning white from the fear and panic.
Amara’s hand started to decay. I need you here. I mind-link Brook.
I am with the Fairchilds, give us a minute and we will portal into the room. I cut the link off without replying.
I move around so I am kneeling on my knees as I look over Amara’s face. She does not look like she is dying, but rather like she is having a sleep full of amazing dreams. Even though the sight of her like that is quite tranquil, it freaks me out even more.
“No, you do not get to do this.” I say as I let go of her hand and stand up on my feet.
“You do not get to die!” I scream as tears start to blur my vision.
“Why did you stand between me and him? It should have been me!” I angrily point at my chest as my cheeks quickly become wet.
“This was not meant to be this way! I am the one who should protect you, not the other way around!” I growl as I angrily pull my hair away from my eyes.
“Alec?” Shadow emerges into the room and runs towards me. She wraps her arms around me and I bury my head in her neck as I cry for what I know is to come.
“I can give her something to wake her up, but I do not think it is a good idea, it will only put her in more pain.” Brook says above my cries and Hope’s sobs.
I pull away from my mate to look at everyone standing around Amara’s bed.
Hope sits by her side; her face red from crying. My mother stands by the door with a hand covering her mouth. Josh leans at the window beside the bed as he fights his tears. Nick stand beside him with a pained expression on his face. Chance cries silently as he stares at Amara’s face. Lorenza stands beside Chance glaring at the decaying on Amara’s skin. Shadow holds my hand tightly as she looks between the faces in the room. Clay stand behind her with a clinched jaw; it is as if he is recalling a bad memory just from staring at the dying woman on the bed. And Brook stands in right before the bed looking lost; not knowing what to do.
“I am sorry Xander; there is nothing I can do to save her life.” A tear falls down her cheek.
“This is not right.” I mumble feeling despair attack my heart. At this moment, I do not care how the pack will react, I do not care what Owen and his king are up to, I do not care what is coming our way next. All I care about is Amara; a woman who believed in me unconditionally and I have failed her in every possible way. And despite that, she saved my life with her own.
I want scream, I want I want to hurt Owen the same way he had those six werewolves hurt her. I want to cut him open and pour salt on his wounds. I want to choke him and feel his life slip away in my hands.
“It is happening.” Hope Whispers causing all of us to look at the decaying as it covers her face. A few seconds later, I cannot hear her heart beating.
She is dead.
Amara is dead.
And it is my fault.
Brook covers her face with the blanket and I literally breakdown in shadow’s arms.
Hope screams.
Lorenza hugs chance as she cries.
My mother runs out of the room.
And Josh and Nick’s magic goes haywire; the glass shatters and wind can be heard outside the building. It was like they are demonstrating how the world will be like without Amara in it.

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