Chapter 234
The Tree
At House of Aetherion Territory
Melva had already finished cleaning Althea’s body and gently massaging her stiff limbs, careful not to disturb the fragile stillness surrounding her. Yet she did not leave.
Instead, she remained kneeling beside the transparent casket, her hands folded on her lap as her gaze drifted between Althea’s serene face and the faintly glowing Tree of Life towering above them. Soft golden light filtered through its leaves, casting a gentle radiance that made the hidden garden feel almost unreal.
“I’m still confused about so many things, milady,” Melva murmured quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Even this tree… I didn’t know such a thing truly existed.”
She let out a slow sigh, her shoulders lifting and falling as memories surfaced.
Earlier that day, she had spoken with several people from the House of Aetherion, those she had crossed paths with. Curious and unable to contain her questions, she had asked them about the Tree of Life. Each one had given her the same answer, spoken with the same solemn certainty.
No one in recorded history had ever truly been healed beneath the tree.
According to ancient accounts, the Tree of Life was once vastly different during the first creation of humanity. It was said to be fully accessible then, overflowing with divine power that restored and sustained life itself. But after the sin of men, that access was lost. What remained was only a shadow of its former glory, no longer a miracle-working entity but a sacred symbol preserved through generations.
A reminder of what once was.
Within the territory of House of Aetherion, the Tree of Life stood as a relic of ancient faith, believed to still possess traces of divine energy, though never proven. It was heavily guarded, hidden deep within their territory in a secluded garden known only to a select few.
Entry was forbidden to all except the Archon and his most trusted men.
No one else was ever allowed to step foot within this sacred place.
And yet here Althea was. Laid beneath the tree inside a transparent, open casket, her fragile body bathed in its soft glow. The knowledge of it made Melva’s chest tighten.
Only a handful of people knew of this secret. The Alpha King himself. The prophet Elior. Osman. Candice. Zander. Melva. Two senior healers and one apprentice, Arlan. That was all.
The world beyond these walls had no idea that Althea’s unconscious body lay under the tree.
Melva’s gaze softened as she looked back at Althea.
“You’re so beautiful, milady,” she said quietly. “Even like this.”
Althea’s skin was pale, almost translucent, her breathing shallow but steady. Still, there was an effortless grace to her features. Her lashes rested delicately against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted as if she might wake at any moment and speak.
“Yes, you’re pale,” Melva continued softly, her voice trembling now, “but you’re still stunning without even trying.”
Her throat tightened suddenly.
“Milady,” she whispered, leaning closer, “can you please wake up already? I miss your genuine smiles and your stubbornness and the way you always pretend you’re braver than you think you are.”
Her voice broke. She tried to continue, but the words refused to come. A painful lump formed in her throat, and before she could stop herself, tears spilled freely down her cheeks.
Melva quickly raised her hands to wipe them away, biting her lower lip as she struggled to steady her breathing. She knew she should not cry. Not now. Not when Althea was still fighting for her life.
“You’re strong,” she whispered, forcing a smile despite the ache in her chest. “You’ve always been.”
She inhaled deeply, composing herself as best she could.
“I will not stop praying to the heavens,” she said with quiet conviction. “I will pray until my knees ache and my voice goes hoarse if I have to. So please… be healed soon. Hang in there. Fight.”
With one last lingering look, Melva finally rose to her feet. She turned toward the basin nearby, intending to fetch more warm water, careful not to disturb the stillness of the garden.
But she froze mid-step.
Her breath caught in her chest as she turned and saw a familiar figure approaching through the archway.
The Alpha King.
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. He had left just before sundown. She had watched him walk away and left before sundown with a heavy expression.
Why was he back so soon?
“Your Majesty,” Melva said at once, bowing deeply.
Gavriel barely acknowledged her presence. He gave her a brief nod, his attention already drawn to the casket beneath the Tree of Life. Without hesitation, he strode forward and dropped to his knees before it. The stone floor echoed softly with the movement.
Melva watched in silence as the Alpha King reached out, his large hand enveloping Althea’s smaller one. His grip was firm as if afraid she might vanish if he let go. He lifted her hand and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles, his lips lingering there far longer.
For a moment, the fearsome Alpha King looked like nothing more than a man desperate not to lose the woman he loved.
Melva’s heart clenched at the sight.
“I guess he turned back,” she murmured softly to herself.
Understanding the gravity of the moment, she gestured discreetly to the two healers stationed not far away. They nodded in silent agreement and followed her as she quietly led them out of the garden, leaving the Alpha King alone beneath the glowing Tree of Life.
“I miss you already,” Gavriel whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking. “I can’t leave just yet. Let me stay. Just tonight, my love.”
His fingers trembled as they gently and carefully brushed along Althea’s cheek as though even the slightest pressure might hurt her. Her skin was cool beneath his touch, far too still, far too quiet for someone who had once looked at him with such fire and defiance.
Slowly, Gavriel lifted his gaze to the night sky above them. The stars glimmered faintly through the branches of the Tree of Life, distant and unreachable.
“Oh God,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Please… save her.”
His jaw tightened as desperation clawed its way out of his chest.
“Show mercy,” he begged, no longer sounding like a king but a man on his knees. “To her. To me. Please… give her back to me.”
His strength finally gave way. Gavriel closed his eyes, and the tears he had been holding back spilled freely, streaming down his face without restraint. They fell like a relentless downpour, soaking into his lashes and dripping onto her unmoving hand as his shoulders shook silently.
The Alpha King wept beneath the Tree of Life, praying to a heaven he had never truly trusted before, willing to surrender anything if it meant Althea would open her eyes again.
Melva’s sharp gasp cut through the stillness behind him.
“Your Majesty… the tree…”
Gavriel lifted his head at once. His breath caught.