CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

The hospital loomed in the quiet night, its harsh fluorescent lights casting long shadows across the pavement. Zahra stood just outside the building, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest.

She took a deep, steadying breath, pulling the hood of her cloak tighter around her head. The fabric was enchanted, a veil of obscurity that shielded her presence from prying eyes and curious minds. She needed to remain unseen. What she was about to do had to remain a secret.

With her hood concealing her face and her resolve hardening, Zahra stepped through the sliding glass doors into the facility. The sterile smell of disinfectant greeted her, mingling with the faint hum of machines and whispered conversations of hospital staff. Her hollow eyes scanned the reception area, her determination unwavering as she approached a nurse seated at the desk.

Placing a gentle hand on the nurse's shoulder, Zahra tapped into one of her innate Selkie abilities: the power to compel. It was a gift she despised, a magic that stripped others of their will, bending them to her desires. She hated how invasive it felt, how it robbed the target of choice, but tonight she had no other option.

She hummed softly, her voice carrying an ethereal quality, a soothing melody that wrapped around the nurse like a comforting blanket. The woman's posture slackened, her eyes glazing over as she fell under Zahra's spell.

"I need you to tell me where Elder Quil Ateara is," Zahra whispered, her voice gentle but firm. "And ensure no one enters his room until I leave."

The nurse nodded obediently, her voice monotone as she recited the information Zahra sought. Satisfied, Zahra released the woman from her influence, ensuring the enchantment would hold long enough for her to complete her task.

Moving silently through the hospital corridors, Zahra found her way to Old Quil's room. The door creaked softly as she pushed it open, her breath catching in her throat at the sight before her. The elder lay frail and motionless on the hospital bed, the steady beeping of monitors the only indication that life still clung to him. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, each one a battle against the inevitable.

Zahra stepped closer, her footsteps light as she approached his bedside. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his weathered hand. His skin was cool to the touch, his heartbeat weak and erratic. "I'm so sorry, Papa Quil," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She didn't have time to grieve—not yet.

The warmth of her touch stirred him from his slumber, and his eyes fluttered open. For a moment, confusion clouded his gaze, but recognition quickly replaced it. His eyes widened as they locked onto hers, a mixture of shock and sorrow flashing across his face.

"Zahra... no," he croaked, his voice barely audible. He knew why she was here. He could see the resolve in her eyes, the quiet determination that left no room for argument.

Zahra forced a smile, her trembling lips betraying her inner turmoil. "Please, Papa Quil," she whispered, her grip on his hand tightening. "Tell everyone I'm sorry. Tell them I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Old Quil's heart surged with desperation as he felt strength returning to his body, a strength he hadn't felt in years. But with every pulse of vitality that coursed through him, he could feel Zahra's life force waning. Her hand, once warm, was growing colder with each passing second.

"Zahra, stop this!" he pleaded, his voice cracking as he tried to pull his hand away. But Zahra's grip was unrelenting, her determination unwavering.

"My body is dying," Zahra admitted, her voice trembling but resolute. "It won't last much longer, and you—you deserve to live on. The pack needs you. Joy needs you. Please let me do this."

Tears spilt from Old Quil's eyes as he struggled against her hold, his heart breaking at the sight of her sacrificing herself for him. "Zahra, please," he begged, his voice raw with emotion. "Don't do this. There has to be another way."

But Zahra only shook her head, her knees buckling as the strain on her body became too much to bear. She fell to the floor, her strength fading rapidly, and Old Quil instinctively leaned forward to catch her. His hands trembled as he cradled her, his heart aching as he felt the life draining from her fragile form.

"Thank you for everything, Papa Quil," Zahra whispered, her voice barely a breath. With the last of her strength, she placed a trembling hand on his cheek and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Her touch was soft, like the brush of a feather, and Old Quil felt a strange sense of peace wash over him.

Before he could protest further, Zahra cast a temporary sleeping spell over him, her magic lulling him into a deep slumber. She watched as his breathing steadied, his complexion returning to a healthier hue. A faint smile graced her lips as she stood, her legs trembling beneath her but still strong enough to carry her forward.

Zahra knew her time was running out. Her powers, though awakened, were consuming her from the inside, and the toll was becoming unbearable. But she wasn't finished yet. There was one final task she needed to complete, one last confrontation that awaited her.

With a final glance at Old Quil, Zahra turned and left the room, her footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway. The night enveloped her once more as she stepped outside, the cool air biting at her skin. Her resolve hardened as she set her sights on her ultimate destination—the place where the Enchantress was waiting for her.

She was no longer just a Selkie running from her fate. She was a warrior walking toward it, ready to face whatever awaited her.