Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate
Chapter 99: Nothing...

Chapter 99: Nothing...

"What?!" Evelina’s voice echoed down the corridor, her heart slamming against her ribs like it was trying to break free.

Jasper looked pale, gasping for breath. "The. Prince. Is. Dying!"

She didn’t wait for him to explain.

Evelina shoved past him, her bare feet slapping hard against the cold stone floor. The icy chill bit at her skin, but she didn’t care. Damian. That was all that mattered.

Her mind screamed his name over and over as she raced down the palace halls, dodging startled servants and confused guards. Jasper’s frantic footsteps followed close behind, but his words were a blur drowned out by the roar of her own heartbeat.

No. He can’t be dying. He can’t.

She pushed her way through the heavy doors of the prince’s chambers, brushing aside anyone who tried to stop her. Guards shouted after her, but she ignored them.

Yet, he wasn’t there.

The room was empty. No Damian. Not even a sign of him.

Panic clawed at her chest. "Where is he?" she demanded in her mind.

Relia’s voice came in lazily as if she wasn’t also caught up in Evelina’s fear. "Fancy you ask that now—after zooming off from the one person who could’ve told us where he is."

Evelina’s eyes darted around wildly. Jasper.

She spun, but he was gone.

"Where is he?" she asked again, her voice trembling inside her head.

Relia’s voice softened, playful but with an edge Evelina didn’t like. "I can help you find him."

What followed was silence.

Evelina felt a rush of confusion as her heart skipped a beat.. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Nothing. No answer.

Her hands clenched into fists. Relia? she snapped.

Finally, the voice came, cool and infuriatingly calm. "I said I can find him. I didn’t say I was going to help you find him."

Evelina stumbled back a step, her breath hitching. "You... you won’t? Her mind felt like it was spinning. "What do you mean you won’t?"

"I mean exactly what I said." Relia’s voice became sharp."I won’t."

Evelina’s chest heaved, fury rising to the surface. "Why?!"

"Because," Relia whispered darkly, "there are some things you need to feel, Evelina. Some fears you need to face on your own."

Her heart twisted painfully. "I don’t have time for this!"

"Well," Relia replied, voice soft and mocking, "then you’d better start running."

Evelina grunted in frustration, her heart racing as she turned around, breathing heavily. She dashed back into the hallway. "Has anyone seen the Prince? Jasper? Anyone?"

Her voice rang through the palace halls, bouncing off the stone walls and catching the attention of startled faces. Servants stopped in their tracks, guards looked at each other in confusion, but no one spoke to her—until a shaking page paused, his wide eyes filled with fear.

"I—I saw the Prince, my lady," he stammered. "He left your chambers earlier... headed outside."

Outside?

Evelina didn’t wait for more.

She ran down the hallway, pushing through the pain in her legs and the rapid beating of her heart. She forced open the heavy palace doors and stepped into the cool night air.

The breeze touched her warm skin, but it wasn’t the cold that made her shiver.

It was fear.

"What kind of dying is he dying?" Her thoughts raced as fast as her feet. "Was he attacked by rogues? Has the poisoner struck again? Did he—"

She couldn’t even finish the thought.

The idea of Damian hurt—dying—sliced through her chest like a blade.

She couldn’t bear it. The memory of his touch, his kiss, and the intense warmth in his silver eyes—it all crashed over her like a wave, dragging her under.

I have to find him. I have to.

And then it hit her.

His scent.

It was faint, barely there, but her senses latched onto it like a lifeline. "I can locate him through his scent," she realized, her heart pounding harder with renewed hope.

"Well, finally," Relia quipped dryly. "Someone’s thinking straight."

"Shut up, Relia," Evelina snapped, closing her eyes and forcing herself to breathe deeply.

Focus.

She inhaled, blocking out the world around her—the sounds, the chaos, the fear—and zeroed in on that familiar, intoxicating scent. A unique blend of crisp cedar, a hint of smoke, and something darker... something unmistakably Damian.

"Come on, come on..." she whispered to herself, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

And then she found it.

Strong and sharp, carried faintly on the breeze.

Damian.

Evelina’s heart raced as she ran over the rough ground, her breath quick and shaky from fear. She didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Damian’s scent filled the air, leading her forward like an invisible thread.

Her mind raced with a thousand dark scenarios, each one more terrifying than the last. What if I’m too late? What if he’s already—

She crushed the thought before it could fully form, her throat tightening with emotion.

She ran past the palace gardens, inhaling the strong smell of crushed grass. Her bare feet hit the cool stone pathways then felt the rough gravel as she turned to the side of the palace.

Her legs burned, but she kept running, staying focused on Damian’s scent.

She ran quickly through the woods, branches scratching her arms. The moonlight shone through the trees like broken glass. The cold night air hurt her skin, but she hardly noticed. Each breath felt like a quiet prayer.

"Please, please be okay," she whispered, her voice trembling.

The words were for him, but also for herself—a fragile lifeline she clung to with everything she had.

She’d just been pushing him away, afraid to let him in completely.

And now?

Now, the thought of losing him was unbearable, a hollow ache deep in her chest that grew with every step. I can’t lose him.

The scent grew stronger—familiar and comforting, yet tinged with something metallic... something wrong.

Minutes felt like hours.

Her feet carried her faster than her mind could keep up, guided purely by instinct and that heart-wrenching pull in her chest. She broke through the last line of trees, stumbling into an open space.

Her heart seized.

She skidded to a stop, her chest heaving as she struggled to process what she was seeing—or rather, not seeing.

The lakeside stretched out before her, bathed in soft silver moonlight. The water was eerily calm, reflecting the night sky like a sheet of dark glass. But there was no Damian. No Jasper. No blood. No chaos.

Nothing.