Chapter 129

Ava

“—never happen,” the woman's hushed voice echoed down the hallway. “The Acting Luna doesn’t stand a chance with Alpha Chris. She’s too old for him anyway…”

I felt my heart leap into my throat as I pressed myself against the corner. The voices down the hall, oblivious to my pain, continued.

“Yes, well, she won’t be a problem for long. Not after tonight…”

I heard a giggle, followed by more hushed words that I couldn’t quite make out over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. Not that it mattered anyway; they were right. Horribly right.

And I needed to leave. Now.

Spinning on my heel, I blinked back the tears that threatened to come and stormed back down the hall, through the bustling ballroom and toward the door. Ophelia and Leonard would understand; I would tell them that I drank too much and needed to go home. Anything to not ruin their night.

Before I could reach the door, however, I was suddenly cut off by a tall form stepping in front of me.

“Pardon me,” I hissed, narrowing my eyes at the figure—but then instantly felt my face flush hot when I saw who it was.

Patrick.

“Woah, there,” he said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I quickly shook my head. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

Patrick slowly lowered his hands, his eyes searching my face. When he saw my frazzled state and my purse clutched tightly in my hand, he put two and two together on his own. “You’re leaving?”

“It’s getting late,” I said, forcing a smile. “So I’m heading out.”

“I see.” Patrick studied me for a moment, clearly not buying my excuse. But instead of pressing the issue, he simply nodded and gestured toward the exit. “Why don’t you let me walk you home? Make sure you get there safe.”

Part of me wanted to protest, to insist that I could take care of myself. But the other part—the part that felt drained and vulnerable and just wanted this night to be over—won out. I nodded meekly, allowing Patrick to loop his arm through mine and lead me out into the cool night air.

We walked in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the click of my heels against the pathway and the distant hum of music and laughter still drifting from the Packhouse. Patrick kept shooting me sidelong glances, as if willing me to open up about what was bothering me.

But I couldn’t bring myself to speak, too afraid that if I did, the floodgates would open.

Finally, we reached the front path of my cottage. Patrick walked me all the way up to the front door, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Well,” he said once we had reached the stoop, rocking back on his heels. “Home sweet home, I suppose.”

I managed a weak smile, fumbling in my purse for my keys. “Yeah. Thanks for walking me, Patrick. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.” He returned my smile, then hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I don’t suppose I could come in, could I?”

A lump formed in my throat at his kind words. Part of me was tempted to take him up on the offer right then and there—to let this handsome man into my home, use him as a way to get over the man who I could never have.

But the other part of me knew that I couldn’t actually do that. I had only just met Patrick, and I wasn’t exactly in the mood for a one night stand.

“Sorry,” I said softly, taking a step back. “I think I’d like to go in alone.”

Patrick looked a little disappointed, but nodded. “Of course. I don’t mean to intrude. So… Goodnight.”

Suddenly, before I could even register what was happening, Patrick leaned in close. Too close. I froze as his lips hovered just a centimeter away from mine, the scent of his cologne overwhelming my senses.

In my drunken, emotionally vulnerable state, I didn’t immediately pull away. Some distant part of me craved the comfort of being held, of being wanted. But just as Patrick’s lips brushed against mine, the image of Chris’s face flashed through my mind—and with it, a painful ache that reminded me how deeply I still loved him.

I gasped and recoiled, jerking my head back so quickly I nearly smacked it against the door frame. Patrick blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by my abrupt retreat. For a handful of agonizing seconds, we simply stared at each other, my heart pounding in my ears.

Then, mercifully, the awkward silence was shattered by the frantic sound of footsteps pounding up the front walk.

“Ava!” Leonard’s panicked voice cut through the silence. “There you are!”

Patrick and I sprang apart just as the Beta came skidding to a halt in front of us, his face flushed and eyes wild. “You have to come quickly,” he panted. “It’s Elder Degas. He’s collapsed!”

…

Leonard and I burst through the front doors of the clinic in a flurry, hurrying our way through the sterile hallways. Already I could hear the sounds of frantic voices and hurried footsteps echoing from the corridor up ahead.

When we reached the doorway, I froze—my heart plummeting into my stomach.

Chris was already there, along with the other Elders and Degas’s daughter, Juniper. All of them were gathered around the hospital bed where the Elder lay, unmoving and hooked up to an impossible number of machines and IV lines.

Gasping, I surged forward, my earlier turmoil over Chris temporarily forgotten as panic gripped me. Degas had been like a grandfather to me, a steadfast presence in my life—in all of our lives—for as long as I could remember. Now, seeing him lying there so pale and still, a multitude of wires and tubes snaking out from his frail body... It was enough to make me feel like I might pass out.

“What happened?” I demanded once I reached the bedside, my eyes frantically roving over the Elder’s pallor.

Chris gripped his hair and shook his head. “He just collapsed,” he said quietly.

“One moment he was fine, and the next he was on the floor,” Juniper choked out through her tears.

I felt my own tears begin to prick at my eyes as I whirled around to face the doctor. “Is he going to be alright?”

The doctor shook her head grimly. “I won’t lie to all of you; Elder Degas is very, very old—well beyond the expected lifespan of our kind. This was a long time coming. Perhaps we may be lucky to have a few months left with our dear Elder.”

My breath hitched as her words sank in. A few months? Tears welled in my eyes as I reached out to grasp Degas’s withered hand, holding it tightly between my own.

There was a heavy silence after that, all of us too stunned and full of grief to speak. The other Elders stood off to the side, sniffling and murmuring amongst themselves. Juniper was the first to speak, rising from her chair with reddened eyes.

“I can’t stay tonight,” she said, her usually bright voice dull and cracked. “My kids will be wondering where I am.”

None of us said anything as she bent to press a gentle kiss to her father’s forehead, her shoulders shaking. Glancing around at us, she mustered a watery smile.

“Please,” she said hoarsely. “Let me know if anything changes. I’ll try to get a sitter so I can come back in the morning, but in the meantime…” She trailed off, her gaze landing on me. “Ava, would you mind...?”

I was already nodding before she could finish. “Of course,” I said, giving Degas’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll stay with him tonight.”

Chris suddenly cleared his throat, his green eyes meeting mine. “I will stay, too.”