Page 94 of Rescued By the Beast
Ethan raises his head, confused.
"Fae?"
Ted frowns.
"What does that matter? Mark is a werewolf-shapeshifter hybrid..."
I blink at them, my heart racing.
"No." I shake my head. "Mark's mother was a fae. Didn't you know that? He carries fae essence, so..."
The silence that follows is thick, heavy with tension.
Balthazar closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his expression sombre.
"Cold iron..." the wizard murmurs, his voice heavy. "If that's the case, he's worse off than we thought."
"Is there an antidote?" Ethan presses, his patience on the verge of collapse.
"Not exactly." Balthazar exhales slowly, as if he hates every word he has to say. "Cold iron poisons fae magic, suppresses regeneration, and corrodes the organs little by little. If we don't remove every trace of it from within him, not only will his body be weakened, but Mark's essence will die."
A loud sob escapes my throat and I squeeze Mark's limp hand, cold as marble beneath my fingers.
"Then get it out of him!" Ted explodes, despair leaking into his voice.
Balthazar shakes his head.
"It's not that simple. At this point, the iron has spread everywhere... bloodstream, heart, lungs. To remove it, a precise, surgical extraction spell would be necessary. But I... I'm not strong enough. I don't have the detailed anatomical knowledge to visualise the removal. Any mistake and the particles could tear him apart from the inside."
Ted swears, burying his face in his hands, but not before I see the pain in his eyes.
Ethan, meanwhile, draws air into his mouth, controlling the tension evident in his shoulders as he finishes the last stitches on Mark's wounds. I know he's affected, but he stays focused, his hands precise at work.
"Please, Balthazar, help him." My voice is weak, I can barely breathe as I try to control my crying.
"If you can't do it... do you know someone who can?" Ethan asks.
Balthazar presses his thin lips together before nodding.
"I know a wizard surgeon. The only one I trust for this kind of procedure, but he lives in London." He exhales heavily. "The closest option is the elder witch in the western forest."
"Then let's go to her!" I exclaim, already moving.
But Ted grabs my shoulder.
"We can't just go like that." His voice is tense.
"She charges a lot," Ethan adds, his gaze sombre. "Everyone who goes to the old woman comes back with less than they went in with. And I'm not talking about money."
"And what do you want to do? Let him die?!"
"I didn't say that!" Ted growls, clenching his fists. "We just need to think about what we'll offer in exchange for his life!"
Balthazar nods.
"She only accepts extremely rare artefacts. And those who have nothing of value... pay with what they hold most precious. Supernatural essence. Limbs. Organs..." His eyes narrow before he adds, in a sombre tone. "That's how she stays young and healthy, despite having lived for centuries. She doesn't use glamour magic to hide her age, like other witches do."
The tension between us grows thick and suffocating.
