Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 224

Chapter 224: See You Again (3)
Ahcehera’s body trembled as she sat on the ruined ground, the air thick with the stench of Zerg blood and burnt metal. The siege had finally begun to wane, and most of the creatures had retreated into the abyss of the battlefield.

Relief should have washed over her, but instead, a deep, unbearable pain seized her chest, so intense that it stole the breath from her lungs. She gasped, her fingers clutching at the armor covering her heart as if physically holding herself together would ease the torment ravaging her soul.

Then, her communicator beeped, a cold mechanical sound that cut through the silence. A single notification flashed across the screen, its content striking her like a death sentence. Her vision blurred as she read the words.

[MATE STATUS: DECEASED. MARITAL STATUS: WIDOWED.]

The message was brief, clinical, and devoid of emotion, but the pain it delivered was as ruthless as a blade to the heart. Ahcehera’s mind reeled, her thoughts collapsing in on themselves.

Rohzivaan.

Dead?

No, it couldn’t be.

Her lips parted to say something, to scream, to deny it, but no words came. The agony intensified, a suffocating force that made her collapse onto her knees.

The bond between mates was sacred, an unbreakable thread of destiny woven by forces older than the stars themselves. And now, hers was shattering.

It wasn’t just grief, wasn’t just the pain of loss. It was the unraveling of something fundamental inside her, something that had been an intrinsic part of her very being. The sensation of Rohzivaan’s presence, the warmth that had always lingered in the back of her mind, was fading into nothingness.

It felt as if she were being hollowed out from the inside, piece by piece, until all that remained was emptiness. Her hands trembled as she clutched at her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Was this what it felt like to die? The thought flickered through her mind, cold and cruel. Because that was what was happening, wasn’t it? Mates could not live without each other. Without Rohzivaan, what was left of her?

A choked sob tore from her throat, her body convulsing as the pain worsened. Her vision darkened at the edges, and her fingers curled into the dirt beneath her as her body started to collapse under the weight of the unbearable truth.

The war, the mission, the Zergs, and the invasion. None of it mattered anymore. What was the point of fighting when the one thing she had fought for was gone? Just as the darkness was about to consume her, strong hands caught her collapsing form.

Eros.

His presence was like a stabilizing force, grounding her when she felt as if she were being torn apart. He said nothing, but his grip was firm, his eyes burning with an unspoken urgency.

She barely registered the way he lifted her, carrying her away from the battlefield and into a secured space where the sounds of war were muffled. But even as her surroundings shifted, the agony did not subside.

Blood dripped from the corner of her lips, staining her pale skin as she gasped for air, her fingers still gripping at her chest.

“He’s…gone,” she managed to choke out, the words slicing through her like a dagger.

Eros did not flinch, nor did he let her go. Instead, without hesitation, he knelt beside her and placed a hand over her heart, his fingers glowing with a soft, golden light.

“No,” he said simply, his voice steady and absolute. “You will not die.”

She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t up to him, that the laws of the universe didn’t bend to his will, but before she could speak, a sudden warmth spread through her body, pushing back against the icy grip of despair.

She gasped as a surge of energy flooded into her, filling the void left behind by Rohzivaan’s absence. Eros’s eyes darkened as he channeled his life essence into her, weaving it through the fractures in her soul, forcing her body to hold on despite the unraveling bond.

It wasn’t a replacement. Nothing could replace Rohzivaan, but it was enough to keep her from slipping into the abyss. “Breathe,” Eros ordered, his voice a command wrapped in desperation.

Ahcehera tried, but each breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. Her body resisted, rejecting the foreign energy that was not Rohzivaan’s. But Eros did not stop. He poured more of himself into her, his hands steady, his presence unwavering.

“Damn it, Ahcehera, you are stronger than this,” he hissed, his frustration barely contained. “He wouldn’t want you to die like this.”

Tears burned in her eyes as she clenched her teeth, fighting against the crushing weight of grief. Eros was right. Rohzivaan wouldn’t want her to fade away, wouldn’t want her to surrender to the void.

He had always told her she was the strongest person he had ever known. Would he have expected her to survive this? Would he have believed in her even now, even as she felt like she was shattering into a million irreparable pieces?

The warmth in her chest grew, battling against the emptiness, pushing back against the darkness. Slowly, her breaths steadied. Her vision cleared. The pain was still there, raw and agonizing, but it no longer threatened to consume her whole.

Eros finally pulled away, exhaling heavily, his face pale from the energy transfer. He sat back, watching her with an intensity that made it clear he had no intention of letting her fall apart.

Ahcehera swallowed hard, wiping at the blood staining her lips. “I don’t… I don’t know how to exist without him,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eros met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “Then don’t exist for him,” he said. “Exist for yourself. Exist for the people who still need you. Exist for the war that still has to be won.”

She stared at him, her chest aching in a way that had nothing to do with the physical pain. For so long, Rohzivaan had been her reason for fighting, her anchor in the chaos.

Now, she was adrift, lost in a universe that suddenly felt so much colder without him. But Eros was right. There was still a war to fight. A kingdom to protect. People who needed her to stand. And if she couldn’t do it for herself, then she would do it for them.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Ahcehera forced herself to sit up. The pain didn’t disappear, but it no longer paralyzed her. She pressed a hand over her heart, feeling the faint remnants of Eros’s energy still lingering there, keeping her tethered to life.

It wasn’t a cure. It wasn’t a fix. But it was enough.