Stella let out a long, weary sigh. It was not the kind of sigh that ca from a mont of inconvenience or mild frustration. It was the kind that suggested she already knew she had her work cut out for her.
She closed her eyes briefly, as though searching the darkness behind her lids for answers that continued to evade her. When she opened them again, she looked directly at Jorell, and there was sothing like sadness in her expression.
"I do not know how to help you, Jorell," she said, her voice quiet but clear, her head shaking slowly.
Jorell’s eyes widened as her words hit him with more weight than he could bear. He stood up straighter, his posture stiffening, anger and disbelief flashing across his features.
"What do you an you do not know how to help ?" he asked, his voice laced with frustration and an undercurrent of desperation. He took a step closer to her, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "You promised to help . Do you rember that? You said you would do all you could to bring her back to . You said I would have to work for her forgiveness and I agreed. I am ready to do that. I am ready to do anything."
Stella’s lips pressed into a thin line. She did rember those words. She rembered them clearly. But things had changed, and she had not foreseen any of this.
"Yes," she said at last, her voice heavier now, laced with regret. "I rember saying all of that. But I had no idea she would return as the King’s mate. I thought she would be reborn here in Bolarish, as an unmated oga. That would have made everything a whole lot easier."
Jorell shook his head, his disbelief hardening into resolve. His jaw tightened, and the muscles in his neck tensed.
"I do not believe she is his mate," he said firmly, crossing his arms. "I think they are lying. The King’s mate is dead. Tracy is mine."
Stella studied him carefully. She saw it clearly now—he was intentionally choosing to believe in a version of events that suited him. He was holding on to a fantasy, and she hated that she might have helped build it.
"The Moon Goddess promised him a second mate," she reminded him, gently but firmly.
"That does not an Tracy is the second mate promised to him by the Moon Goddess," Jorell snapped, and Stella noted the way his voice cracked slightly, betraying the truth beneath his denial.
She wished she could simply let him live in that fantasy world of his, untouched and deluded, but she had pledged allegiance to him as Alpha. It was her duty to guide him, not indulge him.
Stella let out another sigh, slower this ti, heavier with contemplation. "Did you see the two of them together?" she asked, watching him closely.
"Yes," Jorell said, without hesitation. "They arrived at the palace this afternoon. They even held hands. I recognized her imdiately."
Stella’s lips parted, her breath catching for a mont. She looked down, her brows drawn together. When she spoke again, her voice was slower, more thoughtful.
"Do you rember that a curse was placed upon the King? One that made the presence of the opposite gender repulse him?"
"Yes. Why?" Jorell asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Stella lifted her head and looked directly at him. Her eyes were steady.
"You just said they were together. And they even held hands. That would not have been possible if they were not mates. The King would not have been able to stand her presence, let alone touch her."
Jorell opened his mouth, but no words ca out. His defiance faltered. He looked away, falling into an uneasy silence as Stella’s logic settled into his mind.
But the calm did not last. His brows soon knitted again, his lips twitching as another thought ca to him, one that stirred a different kind of urgency.
"But I called her na," he said suddenly, his voice growing louder. "Just like you said. And she reacted exactly the way you told she would. She passed out. Is that supposed to be possible if they are truly mates?"
At that, Stella’s brows drew close. Her expression darkened with confusion. She took a step back and pressed her fingers to her lips, thinking.
That was not supposed to happen.
If Tracy had truly been marked by the King, if they were bound as mates, then her response to Jorell’s call should have been different. The fainting, the passing out—that should not have happened.
Could it be that the King had not marked her?
But if that was the case, then why?
She was lost in thought, trying to unravel the puzzle forming in her mind.
"Say sothing," Jorell said, his patience clearly wearing thin. His eyes were sharp, his voice tense.
Stella lifted her head slowly.
"The only reason that would happen is if the King has not marked her yet," she said finally, her voice quiet but sure. "So you may still have a chance. As long as she remains unmarked, the first one to mark her gets all the benefits."
The mont those words left her mouth, she saw the shift in Jorell. His entire deanor changed. His eyes lit up with a strange, wild kind of joy. His lips stretched into a triumphant smile, and he almost laughed as he said, "Yes."
He looked like a man who had just found his salvation.
"Now all I have to do is get her to forgive and take back, right?" he asked, looking at Stella with a boyish hope.
Stella let out yet another sigh. Her chest rose and fell with the effort, and she closed her eyes briefly, trying to gather herself. This man, she thought, was truly spiraling. The fact that he believed it would be easy to get soone he had once rejected to forgive him and co running back was baffling.
But still, she answered.
"Yes. If you can achieve that."
Before she could offer a single word of caution, before she could explain how difficult, how almost impossible that task would be, Jorell spoke again. But this ti, there was a change in his voice. A subtle darkening.
"What if she does not forgive ?" he asked, his smile fading, a frown forming in its place. "Can I still just go ahead and mark her and get the benefits?"
Stella stiffened.
"Do not do that, Jorell," she said imdiately, her voice sharper than before.
But he was not deterred. He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing.
"That is not the answer to the question, Stella," he said, his voice low, dangerous.
She hesitated. She did not want to answer, but she could feel his growing intensity. He was no longer asking out of curiosity. He was asking because he was considering it.
"I do not know the answer to that question," she said slowly. "But there is a reason forceful marking is forbidden."
Jorell went quiet for a mont, but it was not a calm silence. It was the kind that cos before the storm. Then, another question burst out of him.
"Can you get her to forgive if she proves stubborn?"
Stella stared at him, stunned.
"How do you expect to do that?" she asked, her voice rising slightly.
"Magic, of course," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
She shook her head, her eyes hardening.
"No. I cannot. That is dark magic. And I only perform clean magic."
Jorell was not deterred. He tilted his head slightly.
"Dark magic or not, is it possible?" he asked. His eyes were growing darker now, his energy more dangerous. He was spiraling into sothing Stella could no longer control.
She hesitated, but the pressure from his stare was too much. He looked like he would tear the world apart to get what he wanted.
"Do not lie to , Stella. Is it possible or not?" he growled, his voice almost feral.
Stella swallowed hard.
"It is only possible with dark magic," she admitted quietly. "But it is very risky, and there is no guarantee it would work. Especially on soone you have rejected. And who has accepted the rejection."
Jorell smiled again, that sa twisted, triumphant smile. He nodded.
"Let worry about the consequences," he said. "As for you, my dear Stella, you are a dark witch. You can perform dark magic. Do this for ."
Stella straightened her back.
"My sincere apologies, Alpha Jorell," she said firmly. "I swore an oath. I have said goodbye to the dark arts. I will not break my oath. I will not go back to it. I am sorry to disappoint you."
But her words did not seem to matter anymore.
Jorell waved his hand.
"All right then. You may leave," he said coldly. "I will find another witch to do the job."
"Jorell," she said softly, hoping to reach him.
"Leave, Stella," he said again.
And this ti, she knew there was no point even trying.
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