Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother - Chapter 272

Chapter 272: Chapter 272
Seraphina’s POV

The golden light kept spreading.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Could only stare at the impossible sight unfolding before me.

My tears—just tears—were glowing. Actual golden light emanating from where they touched Damien’s skin. Seeping into his wounds. Into that terrible gash over his heart.

“What the hell?” Lucas’s voice. Distant. Shocked.

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t tear my eyes away.

The light grew brighter. Warmer. Pulsing in rhythm with something I couldn’t name. Like a heartbeat that wasn’t there.

The wound over Damien’s heart—the one that had been torn open, bleeding, dying—it was closing.

Actually closing.

The torn flesh knitting together. The blood stopping. The gray pallor of his skin warming to something closer to living.

“Sera.” Lucas grabbed my shoulder. “Sera, what’s happening?”

“I don’t—” My voice broke. “I don’t know.”

But I couldn’t stop crying. The tears kept falling. And everywhere they touched, that golden glow spread.

Down his chest. Across his shoulders. Along his arms. Each drop creating a path of light. Of healing. Of something that shouldn’t be possible.

The warriors around us had gone silent. All of them staring. Mouths open. Eyes huge.

“Is that—” Someone started.

“The Luna’s tears.” Another warrior’s voice. Awed. Reverent. “They’re healing him.”

Healing him.

The words echoed in my head. Impossible words. Crazy words.

But I could see it happening. Right in front of me. Undeniable.

Another wound closed. Then another. The deep gashes from Voss’s claws sealing themselves. The bite marks from the fight disappearing like they’d never existed.

His skin went from gray to pale. From pale to something warmer. Color returning to his face. To his lips.

My hands were shaking as I reached for his face. Cupped his cold cheeks. More tears falling. More golden light spreading.

“Damien.” His name came out broken. Desperate. “Damien, please.”

The light concentrated over his heart now. Bright enough to hurt looking at. Pulsing faster. Stronger.

Then I felt it.

A flutter. Faint. Weak. But there.

His heart.

Beating.

“Oh my God.” The words barely made it out. “Oh my God, his heart—”

“It’s beating!” Lucas dropped to his knees beside me. His hand going to Damien’s neck. Checking. Confirming. “I can feel it! There’s a pulse!”

The warriors erupted. Voices overlapping. Shouting. Some crying. All of them surging forward.

“Give them space!” Lucas barked. “Back up! Everyone back up!”

But I barely heard them. My entire world had narrowed to Damien’s face. To his chest rising.

Rising.

He was breathing.

Shallow. Irregular. But breathing.

“No.” The word came out strangled. “No, this isn’t—this can’t—”

But it was happening. Right in front of me. My dead husband was coming back to life.

The golden light pulsed one more time. Bright. Blinding. Then faded.

Gone as suddenly as it had appeared. Leaving only smooth, healed skin where wounds had been. Where death had claimed him.

His chest kept rising. Falling. Rising again. Each breath stronger than the last.

His face—that gray, lifeless face—was warming. Color flooding back. His lips losing that horrible blue tinge.

“Damien.” I grabbed his shoulders. Shook him gently. “Damien, can you hear me?”

Nothing. His eyes stayed closed. His body limp.

But he was breathing. His heart was beating. He was alive.

Alive.

The word hit me like a tidal wave. Relief so intense my legs gave out. I collapsed onto his chest. Sobbing harder than before.

Not grief now. Not loss. Just overwhelming, crushing relief.

“He’s alive.” The words came out broken. “He’s alive. He’s alive.”

Lucas’s hand found my shoulder. Squeezed. “Sera. How did you—what did you—”

“I don’t know.” I lifted my head. Looked at him through tears. “I was just—I was crying and then the light and I don’t—”

I couldn’t explain it. Didn’t understand it myself.

All I knew was that my tears had somehow brought him back. Had healed wounds that should have been fatal. Had restored life to someone who’d been dead.

Mate bond. The words whispered through my mind. My new wolf—that white Alpha warrior—stirring. Knowing.

True mates. Alpha mates. Our bond is stronger than death.

Your tears carry your wolf’s healing power. Alpha healing. The rarest gift.

And Alpha mates—true mates—they shared power. Shared strength. Shared life itself.

My tears hadn’t just been grief. They’d been power. Healing power flowing through our mate bond. Refusing to let him go.

“Luna.” One of the medics pushed through the crowd. Young. Female. Her hands shaking as she approached. “I need to examine him. Make sure—”

“Yes.” I forced myself to move. To give her space. “Yes, please.”

She knelt. Hands moving over Damien’s chest. His throat. Checking vitals. Her face shifting from professional calm to shocked disbelief.

“His heart rate is strong.” Her voice shook. “Breathing is steady. Body temperature is rising. All his wounds are—” She looked up at me. “They’re completely healed. There’s not even scarring.”

“That’s impossible,” another medic said. He’d come up behind her. Older. More experienced. “Nobody heals that fast. Not even Alphas.”

“I’m telling you what I’m seeing.” The female medic stood. Faced him. “Look for yourself.”

He did. Kneeling. Examining. His face going through the same progression. Disbelief. Shock. Awe.

“This is—” He stopped. Started again. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“It was the Luna.” Someone in the crowd spoke up. “Her tears. They glowed. They healed him.”

Murmurs rippled through the gathered warriors. Some nodding. Some looking at me with something close to fear. Or reverence. Or both.

I didn’t care what they thought. Didn’t care about the impossibility of it.

All I cared about was that Damien was breathing. His heart was beating. He was alive.

Mate. My mate. The other half of my soul.

The bond in my chest—that golden thread that had guided me here—it was whole again. Strong. Solid. Unbreakable.

“Careful.” I watched as four warriors lifted Damien. Gentle. Reverent. “Don’t jostle him. Don’t—”

“We’ve got him, Luna.” One of them—Marcus—nodded. “We’ll be careful.”

They started walking. Moving slowly. Me following right behind. My hand reaching out. Touching Damien’s arm. Needing that physical connection.

Needing to know this was real. That he was really alive. That I hadn’t imagined everything.

His skin was warm now. Properly warm. Life flowing through him again.

The walk back to camp took forever. Each step feeling like an eternity.

My mind kept replaying it. The poison. The death. The tears. The golden light.

The camp appeared ahead. Warriors running toward us. Voices rising. Questions flying.

“The Alpha!”

“Is he—”

“He’s alive!” Lucas shouted. “Make room! Get the medical tent ready!”

The crowd parted. We moved through. Into the chaos of the camp. Toward the largest tent in the center.

They laid Damien on a cot. Careful. Gentle. His body still limp but breathing steadily now.

I knelt beside him. My hand finding his. Lacing our fingers together.

“Everyone out.” Lucas’s voice. Firm. “Give them space.”

“But—”

“Out. Now.”

The tent cleared. Voices and footsteps fading. Until it was just us. Just me and Damien and the sound of his breathing.

I pressed my forehead to his. My tears starting again. Quieter now. Relief tears. Grateful tears.

“You’re alive.” The words came out whispered. “You’re really alive.”

His chest rose. Fell. Rose again.

His fingers moved.

I froze. Stared at his hand against my face.

Did that just—

They moved again. Slight. Weak. But definitely moving.

Curling against my cheek. Like he was trying to hold me.

“Damien?” My heart slammed against my ribs. “Damien, can you hear me?”

His eyelids fluttered.

My breath stopped. Caught in my throat. Everything in me focused on his face.

“Come on.” I leaned closer. My hand cupping his cheek. “Come back to me. Please.”

His eyes opened.

Slowly. Like it took tremendous effort. But they opened.

Those silver-blue eyes. The ones I’d thought I’d never see again. The ones that had haunted my dreams for months.

They were clearer now. Brighter. Like the healing had done more than just fix his body. Had restored something deeper.

They found mine. Focused. Recognized.

His lips moved. No sound came out at first. Just his mouth forming words.

Then, barely a whisper: “Sera?”

“Yes.” The word came out choked. “Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”

His hand lifted. Shaking. Weak. But lifting. His fingers brushing my face. My wet cheeks. The tears still falling.

“Am I—” He swallowed. Tried again. “Am I dreaming?”

“No.” I grabbed his hand. Pressed it harder against my face. “No, you’re not dreaming. I’m really here. You’re really alive.”