Chapter 100: Chapter 100

DARAN

That night felt cold, even though the wind barely stirred. I stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking the dark forest below, trying to calm my restless mind. The usual soothing sounds of nature now felt foreign, as if they were hiding something.

Eve emerged from the shadows, her steps quiet and measured. She always had that presence—soft yet unpredictable. She stopped a few feet from me, studying my face as if looking for answers I wasn’t even aware I was hiding.

“You okay?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

I nodded, even though peace was the farthest thing from my heart.

Eve sighed, clearly unconvinced. “Daran, I know this is weighing on you. But you can’t keep going like this.”

I turned my gaze toward the forest, avoiding her piercing eyes. But she didn’t back down.

“I think all this is happening because you’ve lived too long,” she said softly, her tone gentler. “When you’ve been through so much, it gets hard to tell what’s real and what’s just shadows of your fears.”

I frowned but stayed quiet.

“Stop worrying about things that haven’t happened yet,” she continued. “Focus on your original purpose. You’re almost there, Daran.”

My original purpose. Her words echoed the mountain dragon’s voice, still vividly etched in my memory. “What’s it like to witness a pointless end?”

Eve stepped closer, standing beside me. Her gaze was on the distance, but I knew she was watching me from the corner of her eye.

“That dragon’s tear pendant... Why do you think it’s changed color? That’s never happened before, has it?”

I thought of Jonea’s pendant. Its vibrant blue hue had darkened, as if it had lost its energy.

Eve pressed on, “I know there’s a reason for this. You know it too. Fight for it, Daran. If you let this chance slip, you’re not just losing Jonea’s power. You’re losing everything—including yourself.”

Her words hit me like a storm.

She turned to face me, her gaze sharp yet not accusatory. “You know what the mountain dragon said. You know his warning wasn’t just empty words.”

I closed my eyes, letting the memory resurface clearly.

"What’s it like to witness a pointless end?" The dragon’s voice thundered in my mind. “Remember this day, Daran. This could be your fate. That girl is your last hope. Become the eternal lycan, or face a tragic end—a half-witch, half-lycan, half-demon. An imperfect being, losing your essence, bringing only destruction.”

My breath caught. The dragon’s words weren’t just a warning; they were a real threat.

I opened my eyes and looked at Eve. She was still there, waiting.

“Daran?” she called softly. “Why are you so quiet?”

I turned my gaze to the city below, then to my empty hands. I clenched them, trying to feel the remnants of strength within me.

“I know what I need to do,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.

“Then do it,” she replied gently, though her tone carried a sense of urgency. “You don’t have much time. You know that.”

I searched her calm face for reassurance, but in the end, I knew this burden was mine alone.

Eve left me alone on that cliff. I stood there for a long time, letting the cold night air sting my skin. In my mind, Jonea’s face kept appearing—her innocent expression, the smile that made me forget life’s burdens, and her eyes filled with trust in me.

She was my hope. But I also knew she was my greatest weakness.

Luke Draken knew it too.

I clenched my fists, recalling Luke’s voice echoing earlier. “She’s mine. You can’t stop it.”

I will stop it.

The decision solidified in my heart. I knew what I had to do—to protect Jonea, to ensure my fate wouldn’t end the way the mountain dragon had foretold.

My steps felt lighter as I left the cliff. Deep in my heart, despite the lingering doubts, I knew this was the only path forward.

Jonea, I promise, I’ll protect you. No matter what it takes.

*

JONEA

That morning felt heavy the moment I opened my eyes. It was as if something was pressing on my chest—a bad feeling I couldn’t shake. Usually, Daran would be in the living room reading or in the kitchen making tea. But this morning, the house was silent. Too silent.

I got out of bed, uneasy, not even bothering to wash my face. I hurried downstairs, checking every room. “Daran?” I called, my voice echoing through the empty house. No answer.

I checked the kitchen, the living room, even the small library we rarely used. Nothing. My breathing grew heavier. Where was he? Why was there no sign of him at all?

My steps faltered in the hallway when the bathroom door opened, and Owen stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp, water dripping down his chest. Under different circumstances, I might have blushed or thrown a snarky comment. But not today.

“Where’s Daran?” I demanded, approaching him quickly.

Owen frowned, confused. “I don’t know. Isn’t he in his room?”

I stepped closer, my voice shaking. “He’s nowhere! You must know something! Where is he?”

“Jonea, calm down!” he said, taking a step back, his hands raised defensively. “I really don’t know. Did he say anything to you?”

I wanted to scream, but the sincerity in Owen’s expression convinced me he was just as clueless. I exhaled sharply, trying to steady myself, and walked into the living room. But the anxiety in my chest didn’t fade; it only grew stronger as time passed.

I decided to wait, sitting on the couch with my eyes fixed on the door, hoping Daran would walk in with his usual calm smile and assure me everything was fine. But seconds turned into minutes, and minutes stretched into hours. The sun was starting to set, and Daran was still gone.

“I can’t just sit here,” I muttered, suddenly standing up from the couch.

Owen, who was sitting by the window, looked at me with concern. “Where are you going?”

“To find him,” I said firmly.

His expression wavered with doubt, but he eventually nodded. “Then I’m coming with you.”

I didn’t argue. As annoying as Owen could be, his presence now felt like an anchor in my storm of worry. Together, we left the house and started searching the places Daran often visited.

We checked the city park, his favorite tea shop, and even the paths he usually took when he wanted to be alone. But there was no trace of him. By the time the sky turned orange, I made one last decision: the forest.

The forest was quiet, only the sound of wind rustling through leaves. I called out Daran’s name, hoping he’d appear from behind the trees like he always did. But there was no answer.

“Guardians of Jeveric, please help me,” I whispered, pleading with the forest’s protectors who had once aided me. I closed my eyes, praying they’d bring good news. But minutes passed, and all I got was silence.

My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down my face. All the fear and anxiety I’d held back all day finally broke free.

“Why is this happening?” I whispered between sobs.

Owen knelt beside me, wrapping me in his arms. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find him. He wouldn’t just leave without a reason.”

I shook my head. “Why so suddenly? He didn’t say anything. Why would he disappear like this?”

Owen gently rubbed my back, though his tone turned serious. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

I froze. “What?”

“You’re terrified of losing him. You don’t have to hide it, Jonea.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, avoiding his gaze, trying to mask the nervousness creeping up my face.

Owen sighed in frustration. “Why do you keep denying it? It’s normal to care about someone. Are you afraid of your own feelings for that silver-haired guy?”

I stayed silent, his words striking a chord I’d tried to ignore. Finally, in a small voice, I admitted, “I wish it were that simple.”

“You’re stubborn.” Owen pulled me into a tighter embrace. “Daran will come back. I’m sure he has a reason.”

I didn’t reply, burying my face in his shoulder, seeking a shred of solace amidst my storm of emotions.

Night was falling as we decided to leave the forest. Owen helped me to my feet, and we started walking back toward the trail. But our steps halted when heavy footsteps echoed from behind us.

We turned, and out of the shadows of the trees, something emerged. It was massive—nearly twice the size of an average human—with a muscular body cloaked in dark, shifting smoke.

“Owen…” I whispered, my body trembling with fear.

He immediately stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body. “Jonea, don’t move.”

The creature walked closer, but not with hostility. Instead, there was something strange about the way it looked at me—like it knew me.

“I haven’t seen you in a long time, Jonea,” the creature said in a deep yet oddly gentle voice. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”