Offered to the Triplet Alphas

[Asher]

Taken aback by her unexpected question, Raven froze in his place, his grip loosening on her.

Ezra opened his eyes wide.

"Once they are born, will my kids have the right to live? Will they live? Or will they suffer?" Her words shuddered out of her lips. Her eyes skimmed from Raven to me.

So this was her real reason for protecting the boy.

Then her eyes gazed up in the air and although she couldn't make a direct eye-contact with Ezra, he was watching her.

"They will be half of me. It's obvious they'll be weak. They might not activate their immortality genes. They might not be born with it. Will you kill them too? Can I trust you with my children's lives? Can I entrust their fate in your hand!?" Wrenching her arm from Raven's grip, she stepped back. Wiping her tears, she gathered herself and her thoughts.

Silence. A brutal, restless silence cut through the four of us.

"I'm not stupid!" she yelled, tears trailing down her eyes. "You don't want my kids to be your heirs. You need weak kids with your genes for some other reasons. Someone who can die or perhaps... someone you can kill. A sacrifice for something? Am I wrong?"

This had always been a sensitive topic among us and in that moment, none of us could muster anything but cold blankness.

"I thought so," Xanthea smiled bitterly. "That is why I'm risking it all, because I'd rather die than bear kids for you."

I licked my lips, lowering my gaze.

"No matter the place, the weak will always be at the mercy of the strong and the strong will never have strength to fend for the weak, for all they know is to assert their dominance on whoever they deem lesser than themselves. And while I know I shouldn't expect humane emotions from the demon lords, I really didn't expect this..."

"You know nothing!" Raven snapped.

"I don't care!" she roared. "If you are going to kill me, do it now and let's just get over with it!"

Ezra clenched the tremble in his fingers into a tight fist. He had handled himself far better than I had expected. Even he must have been surprised by just how much he was willing to be in control - for her. Xanthea has started to mean something important to him, and maybe that was why her words meant a lot more to him. I could sense his restraint cracking slowly.

Only if she knew the power she held over Ezra at that very moment, she wouldn't look so disappointed.

"When three most powerful alphas of the underworld are so powerless that they can't even save a child, then there really is no hope for anyone else. It will be wise for you if you end me here," she glared at Raven. "Why the hell don't you understand? You can't change anything! You can't save anyone!" Raven snarled.

"True. I can't, but you can... and you are not even trying," she retorted.

Irritation and rage zapped across Raven's face, his eyes narrowed piercing through her. It was in moments like these he didn't know what to feel or how to react, so he reacted the only way he knew - with anger. He advanced towards her only to halt as Ezra stretched his hand through the space between them, holding him at bay.

"Ezra..." Raven's face grew paler.

"It's ok. I'm ok," he said. Then he looked at Xanthea.

They stared at each other, words and thoughts slipping away, drowned by the raw flood of emotions that bound them in silence... yet it only tore them further apart. "Trust me," Ezra's voice was strained, his gaze heavy with a kind of pain that only he could endure. "Let the boy go while he still can. It will be a kindness, not cruelty." And with those words, Ezra extinguished the last dimming light in Xanthea's blank eyes. Her lips trembled as she drew in a shaky breath.

"Then please... be kind to me, too. Let me go. Kill me."

Ezra clenched his jaws while his expression flickered - anguish broke through the hardened lines of his face. His eyes, pained and bleary, betrayed all his senses. Unable to summon words or reason, Ezra stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.

"I can't..." His voice cracked, unguarded. "Please, don't make this any harder than it already is."

Xanthea pressed her face against his chest, her hands clenching the fabric of his shirt, knuckles white.

"This might mean nothing to you, but it's everything to me," she whispered, her words muffled against him as her tears seeped into his clothes.

Ezra's heart pounded excruciatingly louder. It did mean something to him - a lot more than he could bear.

"The kid is too young to know death." Xanthea's words came out as a soft plea. "Unlike me... he still has some hope..."

Ezra was reaching his limits, getting closer and closer to the edge with her every word.

Parting from her, he cupped her face, his touch weak and faltering as he tried to meet her gaze.

"How do I make you understand... that there is no hope left for him?" Ezra begged.

But Xanthea's hands covered his, steady and sure. Her voice cut through his despair with a fragile, unbreakable strength.

"There is. The First - the first weak blood who activated his immortality genes. He is their hope, Ezra."

Her words struck him like lightning. Ezra's heartbeats instantly spiked. His hands fell away from her, his breaths turning sharp, erratic.

Her words hung heavy in the silence, almost echoing until...

"Wh-what did you say?" he groaned, his eyes darkening.

A murky red aura blazed around him, almost alive, the raging glow writhed like it had a life of its own. It screamed at such a high-pitched vibration, its cry turned into a haunting whisper. 'She calls you hope. Show her what it truly means to be hope. Show her! Show her!'

Ezra clenched his fists, hugging his arms around himself to keep the resentful voices - the spirits of the lost weak bloods that still clung to his soul - from tearing through. "No," he gritted, shutting his eyes as he stepped away from us.

Xanthea stepped closer to him, her eyes petrified with horror as red glowing cracks webbed its way along Ezra's arms and neck.

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"Ezra..." Raven trudged closer to him with caution, as though Ezra was made of glass.

Ezra's eyes snapped open, a violent crimson glow that crackled like flames around his gaze.

There was a sudden surge of energy all around the room at an alarming rate. Raven and I exchanged a worried glance.

Xanthea staggered, her knees buckling under the oppressive force that pressed down on her.

I teleported to her side, catching her just before she collapsed on the floor. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe.

I had never seen Ezra with such tortured expressions before. Maybe because I didn't see him the night he walked out of the wall as the First.

"Ezra! Brother!" Raven stood before Ezra, shielding us behind him.

But Ezra's gaze was wild, lost in some distant memory.

"How could you out of everyone... how could you? Ellery..."

Xanthea's face went pale, her body shuddering as Ezra's words cut through her. A frozen, horrified look fixed her in place.

The room fractured for a split second before it exploded with a deafening crack as every window, every lightbulb, burst in a violent chorus of splintering glass. Shards rained down on us, tinkling like a storm of shattered stars in the red light. Violent sparks ignited across the room.

Xanthea's wide eyes remained fixed on Ezra through the glass and flames as though she were frozen in time.

Covering her eyes with my hand, I pulled Xanthea close, sheltering her from the falling shards.

A squad of special task force soldiers materialized around Ezra, along with the crisis healers who hurriedly raised mana barriers to contain his deadly outburst before it tore the castle apart.

Xanthea choked on her sobs as fear, confusion, and heartache overwhelmed her.

"Ezra... please... no," she hiccupped, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers clutching desperately at me.

Ezra staggered backward. His gaze flickered toward her one last time before we lost him.

The next few minutes felt to have slowed and stretched into hours.Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

With every shuffle of feet and the soldier's attempt to minimize damage, chaos rose like doom.

I glanced towards the door, opening it up. Nesryn was there with mother. They must have sensed the abnormal mana fluctuation.

'Go,' I mindlinked with the kids, dousing off the fire around them with a flick of my finger.

Nesryn looked at me and nodded before helping mother and the kids get away from the room.

The dark screech of mana clashing against mana rang across the room.

I glanced at Raven, who stood inside the barriers with Ezra, his brow furrowed in concentration. Green threads of his mana stretched out from his fingertips, weaving through the air as they sutured the cracks across Ezra's body.

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The strained threads stopped Ezra's body from tearing apart any further. Raven grabbed the threads but before he could tighten them, Ezra's aura brutally charged across the green threads like flame on gasoline, scorching the mana threads with an uncontainable intensity.

"Damn it, Ezra," Raven flinched, withdrawing his burnt fingers for a few seconds before he reached for another set of threads, only to have them incinerated once more.

It was like trying to stitch together a wound that refused to heal.

The air burnt, the ground trembled. But Raven kept trying again and again. His eyes struggled to focus, his confidence breaking with every burnt suture.

I looked at Xanthea. Blood trailed down her nose and ears, her eyes bloodshot as she clenched her chest. Just staying near such brute force was taking a toll on her mind and body.

I had no choice. I had to leave. I was about to teleport out with Xanthea when...

'Don't go,' Raven mindlinked with me. 'It's the same as it happened back then. Ezra is relapsing. This is only going to get worse. I can feel it. He is reliving that night - that moment. I won't be able to handle him on my own.' His voice was charged with panic and fear.

'Raven, you need to stay calm and lead the healers-'

'What if I make it worse? What if I can't save him? It won't work! I just know. I-I can't-'

'Raven-'

'Asher... I am scared. Please... stay.'

Ezra wasn't the only one relapsing. Raven was falling back into the same helplessness as he felt that night. But it was important that both of them went through this.

As I teleported her into my penthouse, Xanthea's gasps became clearer.

"Ezra... what did I do... I don't... I need to go to him." Xanthea said.

"Don't worry, wife..." I whispered in her ear. "I want you to feel this guilt because it's going to get worse."

She looked at me, confused.

"You have owned your mother's dreams, now it's time for you to own her guilt too..." I kissed her forehead.

Tears streamed down her face, her eyes searching for answers in mine.

"You will never become like your mother. I will make sure you don't. But it's a burden you must bear for us. In your heart, in your soul, in your womb. You have played your part exceptionally well so far, wife. So for now, go to sleep." "M-my mother... her guilt... how do you... uh..." she gasped, her breath shaky as I overwhelmed her in the suffocating prison of my pheromones. Xanthea stumbled back, her hold on my hand weakening.

I picked her up in my arms and placed her on the bed. She moaned, panting faster and faster as she clutched her belly. The fever of her heat rose, dimming all her senses.

"Asher..." she whimpered, trying to hold onto my hand.

"It's time for you to wake up, so you must sleep..."

Taking back my hand, I teleported back to the castle.