Chapter Twenty-Seven

Remus had never seen a fairy release so much fire, and part of his body locked in fear as it raced toward him. He felt the heat before it reached him, and like a fool, he raised Sébastien's sword as if that would block it.

Instead of burning him, the fire parted around him and raced by. A great crack unlike anything he'd ever heard echoed in the room as the marble flooring split from the force of the heat. The rug burned like straw, and Corentin's body, already badly burned, cooked. The cushions on the throne turned into a memory as the wood collapsed into ashes.

Glass sprayed as the windows burst, the frames groaned and blackened, and the runner turned into strips of smoking ash except for a small piece Remus stood on. Sébastien, the source of the flame, stood in the middle of the room and let out a noise like a wounded animal as his red eyes watched.

It was gone in an instant. The floor shuddered, and cracks raced along the melting walls. Remus sucked in a lungful of heated air as he clutched both swords and fully expected to feel agonizing pain that was only delayed, like when a soldier takes a wound and feels nothing until the battle is finished.

It didn't come. His flesh wasn't even reddened, and his clothes were untouched. Sébastien, who must have been burned by Corentin, stood there with black overtaking the whites of his eyes, something Remus hadn't seen yet.

Whatever was there wasn't Sébastien. Something had gotten into him, and the cuffs weren't merely a cursed item to fuck with a thief. The Prince's chest heaved before he suddenly let out a sob.

"It has me. Angelo tried…the cuffs were his…"

Remus's chest constricted as he tried to comprehend the words. A little piece was left. The Prince wasn't all gone, despite the lack of silver in his eyes.

The cuffs hadn't been simply cursed items. They contained the great evil in the stories. The beast had somehow been caught in them, and Angelo had died fighting it to protect his people. A Prince of Wrath and another of sacrifice. The poem had held the answer. Sébastien was now the captive of an otherworldly Prince.

Sébastien's shoulders shook as tears slid down his face. Remus didn't know what to do. There was nothing on him to remove. Still, Remus walked forward.

The angelic hilt came from South Sea, and he wasn't burned.

"I can't," Sébastien whispered as he took a step back. "Go."

"I'm not leaving you. I'll take you out. I'll-" Remus didn't know what he'd do, and his eyes stung to see Sébastien crying as he trembled and clenched his fists. Veins stood out in his arms and neck like he was trying to stop himself, it, or the fire.

The Prince's lips parted like he was about to speak, and he paused as he sucked in a breath. "It'll kill everyone. Satan-"

"You fought it before. For fuck's sake, fight it now. I know you won't give in. You didn't before."

The Prince gave a slight shake of his head as his eyes drifted to the sword. "That was Azazel's. You can't touch it."

His voice, already not quite right, grew deeper with the words, and more black seeped along the white, consuming it, and taking what little was left. Not a speck of silver remained among the crimson as he lifted his gaze up to Remus and bared his fangs.

"You're not-" Some of the deepness was lost as Sébastien clenched his fists. "Do it. Don't let it take me."

He meant for Remus to kill him, and the words were like a kick to the chest. He hooked his sword in his belt and lowered the other. "I can't-"

"Please. I don't want to die from him."

Remus's eyes watered. There had to be another way.

"Remus. Save me-"

Remus tightened his grip as the last spot of white in his left eye vanished.

"His body is mine!" Sébastien screamed.

Fire burst from him again as Remus thrust the sword. A chunk of the ceiling fell near the throne. Corentin's body turned to ash and vanished as a groan came from the walls. The very fire roared as it filled the room and still didn't touch Remus.

The flesh split under the tip, and the insides didn't resist as much as he'd expected. The blade sank deeper, and Sébastien lifted his hands as if to physically attack him. Remus didn't stop until the hilt rammed into the Prince's chest. The bloodied blade stuck through his back, and Remus nearly sobbed.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end. He'd come to get the Prince out, not kill him. But he hadn't intended for a thing to take over him either. Sébastien's legs faltered, and the fire suddenly vanished, leaving only smoke and ash to swirl in the hot air. Blood trickled from his mouth and over his split lower lip as he mumbled.

"No." Remus let go of the sword and grabbed Sébastien by the arms to keep him up. He wanted to take it all back, fix it, find another way…anything.

The black receded, although the crimson remained.

Salt. They needed salt. The beast had dreamed in his body, replaying events from long ago that they'd never get to see. The Angel Prince had fought with more than a weapon and cuffs. An enormous source was nearby. Sébastien's knees buckled, and Remus grabbed him as someone shouted the Prince's name.

Maxime stood in the doorway with his eyes wide and his hands raised. "What did you do?! Why-"

"Come with me." Remus held up Sébastien and turned more toward the door.

Maxime's eyes went right to the blade sticking through his back. "You killed him!

Sébastien's eyes weren't closed, and he didn't appear to be entirely there. He wasn't dead quite yet. If the sword was removed, he'd bleed out in seconds unless that wasn't enough to truly stop what was in him. Remus grabbed Sébastien around the middle and lifted him enough to carry him. The hilt dug into Remus's chest.

Maxime backed up a step as if he thought Remus was about to run him through too. "Dear Elira. Sébastien!"

"Go outside, and get on Whisper now! We can still save him."

Or at least try. He wasn't about to give up on Sébastien while he still had life. Not yet. If there was a way to fix everything and save him…

Remus's words were almost drowned out as the partially melted walls to one side buckled. The wood paneling over some portions had burned away to reveal cracked stone work that had tried to dissolve under the insane heat. A chunk gave away entirely, and a piece of the ceiling nearly hit Remus. Maxime shouted and ran to the main entrance.

As Remus followed, he heard the walls crashing behind him. Sébastien's hand suddenly clutched at his back, and he made a faint sound.

"Hang on," Remus begged him.

He had no idea if it would work. Besides Whisper, the Palace yard was empty, and panicked screams came from the city while the blood-red moon watched overhead. Whisper stomped his hooves and tossed his head.

"Get on Whisper," Remus shouted to Maxime who halted.

"Pull out the sword. I can't guarantee he'll live-"

"No, trust me. We can save him, but not here."

Indecision flickered in the physician's eyes before he ran for the unicorn who stopped long enough for him to clamber on. He screamed at the smell of Sébastien's blood.

"Hold still."

Getting up there while clutching Sébastien who had a sword sticking out of him was no easy feat. Remus had barely gotten them settled with the physician behind him before he kicked Whisper into a gallop. "Get to the water. The ocean-NOW!"

The unicorn, practically driven mad since he must have sensed the Prince was near death, damn near flew into the street. Maxime spoke, and Remus didn't catch his words as he held onto the Prince with one hand and tried to use the reins. Sébastien fingers were still digging into his back like he was trying to cling on to life through Remus.

In the streets nearest the Palace where it wasn't as built up, not much was going on. Ahead, citizens ran toward a side street, and beyond that, several werewolves and soldiers were fighting. Remus was pretty sure he saw a man's arm ripped off.

The collapsing walls in the Palace had been loud. Remus had thought nothing could be louder. He was wrong.

It sounded like a chunk of a mountain had been ripped off by a giant hand. Maxime swore, and Remus chanced a look behind them.

Part of the Palace was leaning forward as if it had been shoved. An enormous split had taken over one side. The Palace had been built to last and give people a fine place to live, not withstand the insane fire power from a beast.

Remus didn't look again as he focused ahead and held onto Sébastien. Whisper was far enough away to keep them safe, or so he hoped. The ground shook as thousands of pounds of stone, wood, marble, and everything inside crashed to the ground with a sound loud enough to drown out the shrieks of panicked people.

The city was in turmoil as werewolves attacked from the way Remus had come. A badly injured werewolf crawled across the ground, and a man was about to bring his axe down on him until Lord Rochefort came from behind and ran him through. The werewolves were doing better overall, and Remus spotted more than one mangled soldier dead on the cobblestones. Unharmed citizens fled through the streets and ran from the unicorn who didn't slow down.

Maybe it was false hope, and it wouldn't do a thing. If that were the case, the only option might be to let Sébastien-

He didn't dare let himself think further. He couldn't. He focused on the ocean ahead which seemed too far away, and tried not to look at the bloody blade sticking out of Sébastien's back or feel the hilt pressing against him.

Or the way Sébastien's fingers were loosening.

Whisper screamed as someone came too close, and he didn't slow. Lucky for the man, he managed to avoid being trampled.

When Whisper raced onto the docks, Remus spotted what he needed and hauled on the reins the best he could with one hand to make him turn left.

Sébastien wasn't holding onto his shirt anymore.

At the far side where the boardwalk ended, steps led to a narrow beach. Whisper leaped down instead risking the rickety, small steps meant for those with two feet. Maxime made a noise at the impact when he landed in the sand.

Remus yelled at him to stop and pulled on the reins. "Come in with me."

"What-"

"Just fucking do it!"

Once off of the unicorn, Remus ran into the surf with Sébastien. The chilly water instantly soaked his boots and trousers. He hadn't realized just how much blood had poured down the Prince's back. The cold might stem the flow a little since he'd have to lose more.

Maxime splashed after Remus who crouched so the water came to his chest and positioned the Prince. He'd gone completely limp, and his head dropped back.

"Be ready to heal him."

Remus grabbed the hilt and pulled.

The Prince didn't twitch or give any indication that he felt the blade leaving his chest. Remus had tried to aim lower to get below the heart and avoid critical organs, but that didn't mean it wouldn't kill him. Under Sébastien's half-closed eyelids, he saw crimson. In the water, he felt a flush of warmth as more hot blood came from the wound.

Saltwater would fill the hole. It had to work. Maxime's hands glowed as he reached for the Prince's chest and back. With such an injury, he'd have to stick his fingers into it to get deep enough and let the magic seal it. His arms were surprisingly steady as if he dealt with such injuries every day.

Remus held the Prince's head up as the water pushed and pulled on them. Under the partially closed lids, Remus saw silver once more.

"Done." Maxime pulled his hands away and reached down to grab the sword which had fallen in the water. "Get him out."

Remus dragged the Prince onto the sand. His chest was unmarked like before. Kneeling by him, he lifted each lid. Pure silver. No crimson. The whites were like before too. The moon overhead, visible through a gap in the clouds, was no longer red.

The water had chilled him, and whether it was fear or if his nerves were simply fried from the day so far, he wasn't entirely sure. He couldn't stop his trembling.

The Prince didn't shiver or move. He didn't seem to be breathing.

"Sébastien-" Remus gathered him close to lend him warmth and tried to feel for a pulse in his neck. Whisper nosed at his sopping wet hair.

He couldn't feel anything. Sébastien's chest was smooth as if he'd never been stabbed, but he couldn't detect a pulse.

"Remus." Maxime's tone was gentle. Too gentle when a part of Remus wanted to fly apart and rage at something. "Most can't survive that kind of injury. The shock and the blood loss can be too much…"

"No," Remus mumbled. Sébastien had to survive. They couldn't get this far for him to die. His eyes were normal, and the moon was no longer red. That meant he had to fucking live.

He couldn't get through everything else only to die and lose his chance to be free. Remus cupped his cold, blank face. How could he lay him in the tomb and later return to Rowland knowing he'd never see the Prince smile or feel him in his arms?

"Remus, I'm sorry," Maxime said so low, his words were almost lost over the surf and the fainter sounds in the city.

"Sébastien. Please." Remus's eyes stung as he struggled to think of a way to undo this too. His hand fumbled at Sébastien's neck again, seeking his pulse. He was so limp and pale, and Remus couldn't bear to put him in a stone coffin later and leave him in a cold tomb forever.

There.

Remus repositioned his fingers, frantically trying to feel it again. The faintest flutter.

"Run to the nearest apothecary. Find something for blood loss-"

"I can't fix blood loss after someone dies or-"

"He still has a pulse. I can feel it. He's not dead, but he might die." Remus stood and picked up the Prince. "Go! Take Whisper so you can come back faster. Whisper, let him ride you."

The unicorn nuzzled Sébastien's shoulder with a confused look.

"Take him, Whisper. Please. Sébastien needs medicine."

"Get him to an inn." Maxime stumbled in the uneven sand as he approached the unicorn. "There's one when you leave the docks. The Coop's straight ahead, and you can't miss the sign. He needs warmth, and if he wakes up by chance, get something hot and sweet in him."

Whisper took Maxime away at breakneck speed and went up the steps so fast, Remus almost expected him to trip. Remus carried Sébastien up and hurried along the docks the best he could. Several werewolves led by a few of the Prince's men were much farther down near a few warships. The Regent had brought some in to prepare for the future, although more would likely be coming soon.

The one that wouldn't happen for him. Corentin was gone forever, and Sébastien still had a chance.

The Coop and the street it was on were abandoned. With everyone running in a panic under the sudden attack, they hadn't bothered to lock up. Abandoned mugs and plates lay on the tables inside. In a room on the ground floor, he dragged the blankets from the bed to wrap Sébastien in the best he could.

Huddled in front of the fire with him, he rubbed Sébastien's limbs through the bedding, held him close, and kept checking his neck.

It was hard to find, but it was still there. The faint pulse. As he managed to reach a level of steadiness with deep breaths and the warmth, he realized he could feel Sébastien's breathing. It was shallow and barely there.

"You have to hang on," Remus said even though he knew Sébastien couldn't hear him.

Hooves outside startled him, and Maxime burst in a few seconds later. Whisper whinnied at being left outside. "Nobody was in the apothecary, so I borrowed a few things." He crouched by the Prince with a satchel he'd dumped a few bottles in.

The Prince couldn't complain about the taste, so Maxime dripped a few drops of certain tinctures straight down his throat.

"That's all we can do besides keeping him warm." Maxime dropped a last bottle into the stolen satchel. "Remus…this isn't like when you were stabbed, and you woke up. That was bad, but you came to a bit faster. You were also in better shape to start with since you'd had a couple of days of good food and water. You're also pretty sturdy, and I got to you quickly."

Remus knew where this was leading. The Prince had been kept in shitty conditions and likely not fed much. More trauma had been slapped on, not to mention what Remus had seen in the Palace. He'd been facing stress unlike anything Remus had gone through before.

Stress wasn't even the right word.

"Some people seem like they might make it, and the heart gives out. He lost a lot of blood, and if the damage to his insides was too much…I healed the wound, but I'm not the Goddess. Things happen…"

"It's not going to happen." Remus kept the Prince against him and stared at the fire.

"I'm trying to warn you." Maxime's voice hitched. "He's been through a lot. "

It almost sounded like he was saying Sébastien might not want to fight anymore, and while he wasn't conscious, perhaps he'd choose to simply drift away.

"If he wants to live, he'll live," Remus said with an edge.

"I'll find something sweet."

Warm milk and sugar from the inn kitchen were good. Maxime didn't dribble much into his mouth in case he choked. He showed Remus where exactly hold his fingers to best feel a person's pulse.

"Just keep them steady."

Remus was sure it was a little stronger. His chest squeezed painfully tight as he imagined checking in a few minutes or a couple of hours, finding nothing that time, and realizing the Prince had slipped away in his arms. His breathing was still faint.

Maxime kept watch near a window. He said by the docked ships, a few werewolves and men came from a different way. Perhaps they were gathering survivors and citizens on one side of the city. Remus imagined the area where the soldiers had been camping looked like a slaughterhouse.

They'd been waiting for an army of soldiers, mostly fairy, to approach on ships. Instead, they'd been met with a hoard of werewolves from the forest.

"Are you going to tell me what unnatural thing happened?" asked Maxime. "I saw the red when you bought him in the water. I've seen it before too, remember?"

"Maybe he doesn't want me to tell you," said Remus. "It's not his fault. I promise he's not bad. I swear. It's not like that at all. Whatever you're thinking-"

"I don't think he's bad. I never did. Hurt and bad aren't the same thing, and whatever that was, I don't think Sébastien would choose it."

Remus hesitated as he rubbed Sébastien's shoulder and hoped the heat was strengthening him too. "I will tell you this much. It wasn't a lord."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the physician's head turning toward him. "Dear Elira."

If he guessed, so be it. Sébastien could say or not say what he wanted in the future.

"So…something happened to him and caused the red, the earthquake, and the moon…" Maxime trailed off, clearly unsure of how to put that all together.

"Yeah."

"Of course, the moon can appear red because of sunlight reflecting off clouds in a certain way," Maxime hurriedly said, like he needed at least one unusual thing to have a logical explanation.

Night had fallen by the time a werewolf found them, although he only said things were fine before hurrying off. Several more minutes passed before Lord Rochefort finally walked in. His armor was splattered with blood, and gore was crusted on his sword.

"Someone said you were here. Is he alive?"

"Yes." Remus hadn't dared to move or let go of the Prince wrapped in his blankets just in case. He had to piss, but all he could think about was the Prince's heart giving out from the lack of blood. He'd never forgive himself if the Sébastien died alone. "His pulse is a little better. What's going on out there?"

Lord Rochefort let out a faint sigh before he half-collapsed in a chair. "It's done. Belle ?me is ours. For now anyway. I'm sure more lords and their men are coming.

"They'll likely surrender. The Regent is dead, Sébastien is technically King, and we hold the city."

"True. At the moment, we've subdued everyone. Citizens have been gathered in one section. Not counting them, we've made a list of everyone who survived, and the only soldiers to survive were other lord's and their men who traveled here because they surrendered. Quite a lot died."

"Some surrendered?"

"Yes. They knew they were losing. The servants in the Palace made it out the back way, and they gave names of lords and guards who were there. They're not among the survivors. One said the Ten Knights were there. I mean, the seven left. We can't find them either, so I think they're all crushed to nothing. The Palace is destroyed, in case you didn't notice."

"I noticed."

Lord Rochefort raised an eyebrow. "How exactly did the entire thing collapse? With the majority falling forward? One of the werewolves went to look. She said what's left is sunken as if the foundation crumbled deep down. Pieces of rubble are scorched too."

Shit. Remus wasn't sure how to explain that, and a lot of people were going to be asking "How?"

" Sébastien was angry," he blurted.

"Uh-huh."

Remus blinked at the fire, willing his exhausted mind to think. With the Prince being held in the Palace, they'd likely taken him down below to a dungeon. Considering what the firepower had done, who knew what Sébastien had done downstairs? It had been powerful enough to destroy the walls and crack the marble. He'd seen the stone partially melted. If he'd done enough damage, and cracks had been running through the internal walls and structures, the foundation had likely been severely compromised.

He'd felt the ground quake outside and seen people running and shouting about an earthquake before leaving Lord Rochefort to run for the Palace. With an overall structure weakened so badly at the base, and further damage running up and where they couldn't see in walls, it made sense it had collapsed.

Who was going to believe the Prince had been possessed by a beast?

"Builders might make a mistake or a few. One fault in the foundation and a couple in a structure might not mean much overall, but when you add in an earthquake…" Remus shrugged. "The Palace was doomed to fall. It was just a matter of time."

"Hmm," Lord Rochefort hummed, apparently deciding not to press. "It was lucky that the women and slaves left. One of the soldiers who surrendered said only men planning to fight had remained, and they'd cleared out the court that morning since the Regent was planning war. Those not staying remained long enough to see Prince Sébastien accused. The proper trial was to be in a couple of days. Of course, if the Regent thought you were on our shores, I'm sure the execution would have been a knife dragged across his throat. Are you sure he's going to live?"

"Yes. Maxime can heal you if you need it."

Lord Rochefort started unbuckling a strap on his armor. "I haven't been cut. This bastard with a mace got a few good slugs in. We didn't lose many werewolves, and most of our men made it."

"Good. I know you think I should be out there taking care of shit, but I can't leave him."

"You should stay with him. I don't know what all happened, but he'd probably prefer you over anyone. The rest have got it. What we need to be careful of next is new lords and soldiers arriving." Lord Rochefort paused. "Any reason why the moon was red?"

"It was just light reflecting off the clouds and creating a strange hue," Maxime hurriedly said.

"Ah."

"Well, if it's safe enough now, you should probably take him to a room," said Maxime. "I'll see if one of the upstairs rooms has a fireplace so you can keep him warm. I'll be back in a moment."

***

Sébastien finally woke up late that night. Maxime had found clothes in the innkeeper's quarters, so Remus had dressed him and bundled him in blankets on the bed.

The Prince didn't seem concerned about where he was as he stared at Remus who planted himself in a chair by the bed.

"Sébastien?" Remus leaned forward as relief flooded him.

"Get away," he mumbled. "He'll kill you."

"It's over. It's gone. I put you in the ocean while Maxime healed you. The thing in you is gone. The salt worked."

Sébastien gave him a blank look.

"It's over, and you're safe," Remus said firmly.

Elira, he hoped so. Sébastien's eyes were normal although rather bloodshot.

"I want you to drink this."

The pantry downstairs was stocked, and Maxime had found juice and sweets. Remus got Sébastien to sit up enough so he could drink the juice and water he left on the bedside table earlier. Sébastien managed the liquid and refused the food.

If he'd gotten up, he'd likely be fine although quite weak. He seemed like he was in shock as he settled himself properly in the bed.

"Get in with me."

Remus put out the crystal lantern on the bedside table. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yeah…"

Remus got in under the blankets, and Sébastien immediately turned to him and nestled against his chest without a word. Remus wrapped an arm around him as his eyes stung.

He'd almost lost the Prince and thought he might never get to hold him again. Several minutes passed with neither of them speaking. Perhaps Sébastien was trying to come to grips with the fact that he was safe and everything from earlier was gone.

"Stay," Sébastien finally whispered. "Please."

"I'm not leaving you."