THE HIDDEN CROWN

Chapter 73

Elara’s cries pierced through the encroaching darkness, pulling at the fragile threads of Victor’s awareness. He could feel the cold seeping into his bones, his body weakening with every second, but he couldn’t let go—couldn’t leave her. Not like this.

As the last traces of his vision began to fade, something stirred deep within him, an ancient power buried far beneath the surface of his being. It wasn’t the destructive magic of Lucien, nor was it the bloodlust of his kind. This was something older, purer—a remnant of the life force that had sustained him through his centuries of existence.

Elara’s hands were still gripping his shoulders, her tears falling onto his pale skin. He could hear her heart racing, the desperation in her voice as she pleaded with him to stay.

"Victor, please," she whispered. "You’ve survived so much. You’ve fought for so long. Don’t let it end like this. You have to come back to me."

Her words echoed in the void, reverberating through the depths of his fading