Chapter 234

Ava

As we followed the doctor into his office, my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. Chris’s hand found mine, squeezing tightly, but I hardly felt it through my panic.

The doctor’s face was grim as he gestured for us to sit in the worn leather chairs facing his desk.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” he began in a low voice, and I felt like I might pass out already. “Beta Leonard’s condition has deteriorated much faster than we anticipated. At this rate... he might not have more than a few weeks left.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath me. Weeks? But we thought we had months. I gripped the arms of my chair, trying to steady myself. The room suddenly felt too small, too stuffy. I couldn’t decide whether I was about to throw up or pass out.

“Are… Are you sure?” Chris asked, his voice strained. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “There must be something we can do. Some treatment we haven’t tried yet?”

The doctor pursed his lips and shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Alpha. Due to the foreign nature of this illness, we can’t operate or provide any of our traditional treatments. We’ve exhausted all of our options.”

“So what now?” I asked. My voice came out as hardly more than a choked whisper.

The doctor sighed. “At this point, our main focus should be on making Leonard comfortable and... preparing for the inevitable.”

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, felt them spilling over before I could stop them. A soft sob wracked my frame, and even though I clamped my hand over my mouth, there was no stopping the next one that came out.

“Our Leonard,” I whimpered between gasps. “Our dear Leonard…”

“Hey.” Chris pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me tightly. I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, trying to ground myself. “We’ll figure something out,” he murmured into my hair, his voice a low rumble against my ear. “Just like we always do. Leonard will be okay. We’ve faced worse odds before.”

Chris’s words were designed to soothe, but for the first time, I couldn’t find it in me to believe him.

Maybe this time, there would be no solution. Maybe we were truly powerless against this blight, against Olivia, against the war with New Moon.

Maybe we were all doomed, and for what? A Goddess’s anger over a single artifact?

“Look at me,” Chris said, as if reading my thoughts. He pulled back, cupping my face in his hands, his green eyes intense. “I made a vow to protect this pack, and I intend to keep it. I won’t let anything happen to Leonard.”

I wanted to believe him. I desperately wanted to, truly.

But the weight of everything felt crushing, suffocating. I couldn’t breathe.

“But what if we can’t?” I whispered, clutching Chris’s shirt. “What if this is it? For Leonard, for… everything?”

Chris’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath his skin. “Then we’ll go down fighting. But I refuse to believe that. We’ve come too far, overcome too much, to give up now.”

The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly, drawing our attention back to him. He looked uncomfortable, as if he felt like he was intruding on a private moment.

“I’ve given Leonard some more of his medication,” he said softly. “It’s a solution he needs to rub into his gums every six hours. It seems to help with the symptoms, at least temporarily.”

“What is it?” Chris asked.

“It’s a special concoction,” the doctor replied. “A combination of a few traditional herbs and minerals. It helps with his pain and improves his appetite.”

“Can we take him home?” I asked, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. The thought of Leonard spending his last days in this clinic and not in the comfort of his own home was unbearable. Knowing Leonard, he would refuse to die anywhere but his own home anyway.

The doctor hesitated, his brow furrowing. “Well, I would prefer if he stayed the night for observation, but…”

“But he refused, didn’t he?” Chris finished with a wry smile on his face. We all knew how stubborn Leonard could be.

The doctor nodded, a hint of fondness in his expression. “He’s insistent on going home. Miss Ophelia has promised to keep a close eye on him through the night. She seems... determined.”

“Sounds like her,” I muttered with a bitter chuckle.

With that, we thanked the doctor and made our way back to the waiting room. The harsh fluorescent lights made everything seem starker, more real. Leonard was already there as we approached, looking paler than ever but determined, with Ophelia supporting him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but there was a fierce protectiveness in the way she held onto him.

“Ready to go home?” Chris asked, forcing a smile. I could see the strain in his eyes, the way his shoulders were set with tension. Tonight would be a very long night.

Leonard nodded, a ghost of his usual grin on his face. “More than ready. No offense, doc, but I hate hospitals. The food is terrible.”

The doctor chuckled. “Fair enough.”

As we watched them leave, arm in arm, the reality of the situation hit me again. Leonard might die. Our friend, our Beta, could be gone in a matter of weeks. The thought felt like a punch straight to the chest.

“We should get home too,” Chris said softly, his hand on the small of my back. “It’s been a long night.”

But as we turned to leave, I remembered something. The pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t quite solve yet. “Wait,” I said, tugging on Chris’s sleeve. “What about Elise?”

Chris frowned, his brow furrowing. “Right…”

“Why was she here? And why does she keep coming to the clinic at night?” I lowered my voice, aware of the nurse at the nearby desk. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

Chris’s eyes narrowed, and I could practically hear the gears turning in his head. “Yeah. There’s no way she was just picking up heart medication. Not at this hour, and not as frequently as Patrick’s seen her here.”

We turned back to the doctor, who was busy tidying up his office. He looked up as we approached, surprise flickering across his face.

“Excuse me, doctor,” Chris began casually, leaning against the doorframe. “We couldn’t help but feel a bit concerned for Elder Elise; she mentioned having a heart condition. Is everything alright with her?”

The doctor’s expression immediately became guarded, his posture stiffening. “Oh, I’m afraid I can’t discuss other patients’ medical information without permission. You understand, of course.”

“Of course,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice light. “We’re just concerned. We had no idea she was unwell.”

The doctor’s eyes darted between us, his hands fidgeting with a pen on his desk. “As I said, I cannot discuss patient information. It’s a matter of confidentiality. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some paperwork to finish up.”

As we walked out of the clinic, the cool night air a welcome relief after the stuffy interior, Chris ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Well, that was a dead end. What do we do now?”

I paused, reaching my hand into my pocket. A moment later, I slipped out the small clinic keycard that I had swiped from the doctor’s desk when he wasn’t looking, and I held it up to the light.

“Perhaps we can come back later and find out,” I said with a tired grin.