<h4>Chapter 105: The Unweaving</h4>


    At West Pce, Royal Estate, Capital City


    “What’s going on? Why is she like this?” Queen Mother Wilma snapped, staring down at her daughter Ri, who was now unconscious on her bed.


    She had been fine yesterday, and now it was nearly nighttime, and she still hadn’t woken up since morning. They tried waking her up but she remained unconscious.


    “Maybe it’s a side effect from that traitor’s daughter,” Ava suggested, frowning.


    Wilma’s face darkened just at the mention about Cain’s daughter. Her blood was boiling but she chose not toment and instead turned to Nilda.


    “Tell me what’s wrong with my child,” Wilma demanded of Nilda, Ri’s personal healer.


    Nilda bowed her head. “I don’t know, Your Highness. She was well yesterday, then she said she felt tired and went to sleep. Sheined that something felt heavy in her body.”


    “I checked her.” Nilda chose her words carefully. “Her vitals are normal, Your Highness. But there are some remnants on her skin I can’t exin.”


    “I’m certain it’s that breeder’s doing. I saw it with my own eyes! She cast a spell on Ri. Lord Uriel says that Althea saved her, but what if he’s wrong? He doesn’t see everything. Althea is Cain’s daughter—she’s suspicious and she can’t be trusted.” Ava snapped.


    Wilma’s hands clenched into fists. Her face darkened. “That whore,” she hissed, picturing Althea being praised by the Nightwalker pack members while her daughtery bedridden. “I will kill her. I will kill that woman with my own hands.”


    A servant knocked and announced, “Your Highness, Lord Midas has arrived and requests a word.”


    Wilma’s eyes sparked. Midas was loyal to her. She rose from Ri’s bedside. “Do not leave her,” she ordered Nilda. “Watch her closely.”


    Then Wilma turned to Ava. “Come.”


    Ava forced her smile as she followed the queen mother. Nilda caught the expression and gave a small, reassuring nod, then returned to the bedside.


    Ava basked in the satisfaction rising in her chest. Everything was going ording to n. Ri was her way to destroy Althea for good.


    ‘How dare that wretch take credit and be praised like some savior,’ she seethed silently. She would make sure Althea was remembered not only as the traitor’s daughter, but also as the one who harmed the beloved princess of the kingdom.


    Midas waited in the courtyard. He was in his thirties, older than Gavriel. He was handsome, with a trim mustache and a short beard. Still, he could not match Gavriel’s imposing presence, broad physique, and the piercing eyes that made women melt. No man could ever surpass Gavriel’s physical appearance at all.


    Ava clenched her fists at the thought of another woman basking in the Alpha King’s warmth. For years, she had waited, endured and sacrificed. She had even betrayed Rizza, her closest friend and blood sister, all for one man. All for Gavriel...


    ‘I won’t let all my sacrifices go to waste. Gavriel is mine,’ she swore inwardly, her teeth gritting against the bitterness boiling in her chest.


    Midas’s face brightened when he saw her. Ava gave him her sweetest smile, bowed, and greeted him, “Lord Midas. Wee back.”


    “Thank you, Lady Ava. You look as radiant as ever,” he ttered, then embraced Queen Mother Wilma. “I came back as soon as I heard. I brought the person you requested. When you are ready, I can bring you to her.”


    “Bring me to her now. I will not waste time,” Wilma snapped, eyes zing. “I want Cain’s daughter removed from my son’s side this instant.”


    Midas’s expression darkened. “Do not worry, Aunt. I will make sure she is ced where she belongs. Cain must pay. All his loved ones will pay for the lives he took. Ares must be avenged.”


    Ava allowed herself a satisfied smile. With Midas on her side, her n was falling into ce.


    Then Midas called a woman standing nearby, dressed like one of the servants. “This is the one,” Midas announced, tone low. “She is called Maera. She is older than most remember and answers to no house. She can break bonds other women cannot touch.”


    Wilma’s lips curled into a hard smile.


    Maera’s voice was a dry whisper as she spoke directly. “You seek to sever a matebond,” she said. “That is not a small thing. Bonds are woven of blood, of fate, and of the soul. To cut them is to cut a piece from both those bound. It leaves an empty ce.”


    Wilma stepped forward, impatient. “Can you do it?”


    Maera’s eyesnded on Wilma and did not soften. “I can. But know this. Nothinges for free. The unweaving demands a price.”


    Ava’s smile was sharp. “What sort of price?”


    The witch’s fingers found the edge of her cloak and peeled it back a little to show a small, braided cord threaded with dark beads. “Three bindings must be offered. First, a relic of the bond, something they both cherish, a token that holds their shared fate. Without it, the weave cannot be found.”


    “Second,” Maera continued, “a measure of life force. Not necessarily death, but giving up a portion of what fuels you. It might be a memory, a sliver of power, or a season of health. The stronger the bond, the greater the offering.”


    “And third,” she said, voice falling to a dangerous hush, “a sacrifice that seals the cut. It must be meaningful to the one who gives it. Some offer blood, some offer a promise never to love again, some surrender a gift that can never be returned. The price must be real, so the world will ept the change.”


    A hush fell. Wilma’s hands clenched and Ava’s eyes glittered in anticipation.


    Maera lifted her chin. “Understand the consequence. Bonds are not only ties. They are shelter, they are cost, they are creation. Severing one will leave a wound. The one freed may find their heart hollowed, or their memory fractured. The one left may be haunted. There are no guarantees. And once done, it cannot be undone.”


    Wilma’s voice was hard as flint. “If it costs me my peace and my honor to save Ri’s reputation, and my son’s sanity... I will pay it. Tell me what you need.”