Page 32 of Dark Witch Resurrection

"There's nothing to see yet. They look a little better than they did when we brought them in, but they're still unconscious. They're barely more than dried-out corpses at this point, and I doubt you want to see that."

"Nevertheless, I feel like I need to see them." She was quiet for a moment. "I spoke with the queen last night through Aru and Aria, and the conversation made me worry."

Kian frowned. "What did she say?"

"I prefer not to discuss this on the phone. If you are not in a rush to get to the office, I would like to come over."

As if it was an option to refuse her. "I'm never in a rush when you need me."

"Excellent. I will be there in a few minutes." She ended the call.

"I'll start on the cappuccino," Syssi said, rising from her seat and moving towards the kitchen. "Okidu," she said, "can you make a few more waffles? The Clan Mother is on her way."

Allegra clapped her little hands, her face alight with excitement. "Waffles!" she cried, bouncing in her seat. "Nana!"

"Isn't it wonderful." Syssi turned to Kian with a smile, "to have your mother living just a short walk away?"

"You're probably the only daughter-in-law on the planet who feels that way about her husband's mother," he said, his voice teasing.

Syssi shrugged. "I love your mother," she said simply. "And your sisters, too."

Kian felt a rush of love and gratitude for his mate, for how she had embraced his family as her own. "I know, and it makes me the luckiest guy."

24

THE PRINCE

He drifted in a sea of darkness, his mind a jumbled mess of fragmented memories and half-formed thoughts. He couldn't tell where one ended and the other began, couldn't separate the dreams from the reality that once must have been his life.

Still, through the haze of confusion and uncertainty, one thing remained constant—the sound of her voice. It was a lifeline, a tether to hold onto in the endless expanse of nothingness that surrounded him.

He needed to find out who the female was and what language she spoke. He couldn't understand a single word. But her voice was a soothing melody that seemed to wrap around him like a warm embrace.

Sometimes, she sang, her voice rising and falling in a haunting cadence that stirred something deep within him. The songs differed each time, some joyful and uplifting, others sad and mournful. Some were passionate, filled with a yearning that he could feel deep in his soul, while others were light and playful, tunes that made him want to dance, laugh, and spin in circles even though he couldn't remember ever dancing.

He couldn't make out the words or decipher the meaning behind the melodies. But it didn't matter. Her voice was enough, a tether that kept him grounded in the void.

In the rare moments when the darkness receded and his mind cleared, he found himself grasping at the fragments of his past, trying to piece together the shattered remnants of his identity.

He saw flashes of a woman's face, who he knew was his mother. She was strong and brave, he knew that as well, and she did everything in her power to protect him and his sister, but she feared that even her formidable power would not be enough. She never said that, but he could see the fear in the shadows in her eyes.

"Your destiny awaits across the stars," she'd said. "The seer foretold your future. You will live, and you will thrive, and you will be safe."

He remembered the pain in his mother's eyes, the knowledge that she was sending them away and would never see them again.

The thought was too painful to cling to, so he drifted away, anchoring himself to that enchanting voice again. The female seemed to assume different roles as she spoke, sounding different with each switch.

It was so odd. Perhaps she was retelling tales of valor from days past, acting the parts of the heroes.

Time had lost all meaning.

He was trapped in the liminal space between life and death.

Gradually, though, ever so slowly, he began to feel a change. It started as a warmth in his chest, a tiny spark of life that grew and spread until it filled his entire being. It was like the first rays of dawn after an endless night, the promise of a new day and a new beginning. It was the feeling of blood flowing in his veins, of vitality returning, not in a torrent, but in a trickle.

The female was speaking to him again, her words a soothing murmur that washed over him like a gentle rain. He strained to listen, to make out the meaning behind the sounds. But it was like grasping at smoke, the syllables slipping through his fingers like sand.

And then, suddenly, something changed. The woman's voice shifted, the cadence of her words taking on a new pattern. It was as if a veil had been lifted, the sounds coalescing into something recognizable that he could almost understand.

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