The Heartless Alpha’s Beloved Luna (Avery and Gideon) novel Chapter 579

Avery’s POV

The world slowed for the second time that night.

I think I screamed. But I couldn’t be sure. It was all such a blur, the entire clearing narrowing to that puncture point at his spine. All I saw was the man who had briefly been a friend and companion suddenly going limp, as if all the fight had gone out of him, and that horrific beast pulling a pincer out of him and looking at me with so much smugness it made me sick.

Sebastian’s body fell, arms stretched to the sides, limp and gushing a river of red that stained the grass around us. He sputtered and didn’t get back up.

No sooner had that happened did the witch move again, rearing back, pincers poised to make a killing blow—one that was aimed for us this time. For me and my family.

I knew I screamed that time. I felt it tear my throat raw. Felt it split the moon in two overhead. And in that moment, I swore a silver light poured forth from the sky, warm and familiar, cascading over me and my family like liquid moonlight.

Gideon moved, positioning himself in front of us. I grabbed the back of his jacket, shouting, “NO!”

Bjorn screamed, scrambling to his feet, and just stood there, frozen in horror. Because no matter what, he was still a child, only ten, and he shouldn’t have had to see any of this.

The pincer, black and slick with blood, arced down toward Gideon’s chest.

And somewhere, in the distance, a shrill voice cried, “Get away from them!”

I turned my head, gasping, just as Melissa came stumbling out of the tree line on her ruined foot, half-falling with every step, the little glass vial clutched in one fist like a weapon. I don’t know how she found it. I don’t know how she’d made it this far on that leg, feverish and half out of her mind an hour ago.

She didn’t stop to explain. She raised the vial and sprayed it dead in the witch’s face.

I knew, the very instant I looked at him, that he wasn’t going to make it. I’d seen enough injuries in my life by now to know that much just from the way the blood kept coming, steady and unstoppable, no matter how hard I pressed my hands to it. No matter how I prayed, no matter the silver light that poured from the moon overhead—some wounds simply couldn’t be healed.

Especially if the bearer didn’t want them to be healed.

And judging from the look in Sebastian’s eyes, he didn’t want that. He wanted to let go. Finally. After too many years fighting and scrambling to hold onto things that didn’t belong to him… He wanted to let go.

“Avery.” His hand found my wrist, pulling it away from his wound before I could try healing him. “I need you to hear this.”

“Don’t talk.” I tried pulling my hands away anyway, because there was still a part of me that couldn’t let him go. “Save your strength for—”