Chapter 42

Celia

The first thing that I hear when I wake up are the familiar voices of people from my life. Their voices are quiet, just above the volume of a whisper. I cling to the sounds, slowly dragging myself out of a deep slumber.

“Is she really the missing Lycan Princess?” Lily’s voice s muffled beyond belief but I am able to pick up on a few words every now and then.

My body feels dead. I am unable to move my arms or legs, barely able to wiggle my toes. I want to cry out, to let them know that I am here and alive and am ready to live again but my body won’t allow me to do so.

“She is,” my grandmother sighs, “her parents hid her from the Lycans after they fled the pack. She is the reason why her parents left in the first place.”

My heart aches. I do not want to be the reason by my parents died, why they were taken so early from the world. My grandmother is making it sound like my mere existence is the reason why my parents are gone.

But it also sounds like my parents were killed because of my existence. Now that is a fate that I never wish to learn the truth about. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

“She will be in grave danger when she wakes up,” Healer Anderson is the next to speak.

Healer Anderson is here? Does he truly care about me beyond the role of a mentor and his apprentice?

“We’ll keep her safe as best as we can,” Ethan quietly chimes in.

I find the strength to push through the darkness, reaching out towards their voices as if it is the lifeline that I need to escape the hell that is the confines of my mind.

My eyes slowly flutter open. The light inside of the room is dim, barely lit. Candles surround my bed and the familiar scent of salts and herbs fill my nose. That must be Healer Anderson’s doing.

The building is wooden and it, quite frankly, feels familiar, like I am at home and in a safe space where nobody will hurt me. To the side of me sits an array of plush, velvet chairs. A painted portrait of the forest hangs on the wall with two wolves sitting in the middle.

Am I…am at Soren’s lakeside villa? The same place where his mother laid just a few weeks ago, blissfully trapped in a coma that has overtaken her body for so long?

My mouth is so dry and my head throbs. There is a fiery heat behind my eyes, pulsating. I try to move my hand but it remains still, stuck under the weight of something holding it back.

I slowly turn my head, feeling it deepen into the pillow behind my head. I look at my hand and see that Soren, the Alpha King and the man I used to love with my entire being, holds my hand in his.

His hair covers his face and eyes, the man lost in deep thought. He slightly turns his chin upwards and I can finally see his face. His brows are knitted together, a pained expression overtaking his face.

He squeezes my hand. I hold in a gasp. I never knew that I needed to feel someone’s touch — his touch — to make me feel so alive again.

His face, though. It saddens me. I thought we were able to take away his headaches? To cure him of the ailment that has been a bother to him for so long.

“Soren?” I breathe out his name, my voice raspy and dry. His eyes immediately move to mine, widening. “Is your head hurting? Do you need me to help?”

“Celia,” my name rolls off of his tongue like butter. A quiet chuckle escapes his lips, one that I have heard only a few times before when we shared a bed at night, our bodies intertwined with each other. “How are you still thinking about other people when you’re the one who needs the attention?”

“Celia? Dear? Are you awake?” My grandmother immediately breaks the moment between Soren and I.

I turn to look at the group who stands a few feet away from the foot of the bed. A small, and very weak, smile spreads across my lips. It falls, though, as a cough overtakes my body.

The group instantly leaves their spots and surrounds my bed. They attach their hands to my body, their voices overwhelming me. I try to squeeze Soren’s hand but am meet with nothing but air.

I look through the bodies of the ground and watch as Soren settles into a place behind them and to the side of the Lycan Duke, his eyes never leaving mine as they begin to quietly speak to each other.

“Celia? Are you okay? What is your pain level at?” Healer Anderson speaks from my side. He grabs my wrist and feels for my pulse, his demanding eyes finding mine.

“I…my head hurts,” my throat throbs from how dry it is, “and I could use some water.”

“Yes, water! Right away!” Lily disappears from the side of the bed.

“Can I sit up?” I ask, already moving.

I immediately regret this decision, though, as a sharp pain overtakes my body. I cry out in pain, tears stinging my eyes as Healer Anderson and my grandmother help me lay back down into the bed. I look down and push through the pain, moving away the white sheets of the bed.

The lower part of my stomach is covered in white bandages, a bright red spot staining through the material. I shudder, my hands dropping to my sides as adrenaline rushes through my body.

“Calm down, Celia, take deep breaths,” my grandmother attaches herself to my side, her hand smoothing out my hair, gently calming my nerves.

I follow her instructions and take slow and deep breaths. My body slowly calms down and the pain slowly subsides but it still lingers as my eyes drift across the room.

They land on Soren. His expression softens when our eyes meet. He uncrosses his arms from over his chest and angles his body to face mine.

Just by looking at him, I can feel the pain in my body begin to fade away. Our fated mate bond is strong. The two of us know it and yet it has become an unspoken truth between us that neither wishes to speak into existence.

Was our bond the thing that saved me? Did Soren make it in time before I passed away due to Bianca’s antics?

The more I try to remember what happened, the more hazy my memory becomes. The images that were once so vivid to me begin to slowly disappear, vanishing from the crooks and crevices of my mind that they were so heavily ingrained into.

Soren remains where he is. I watch as his eyes flicker to the people around me, his face hardening and jaw clenching as Healer Anderson and my grandmother move my arms around like they’re nothing.

“What happened to me?” I ask, my question slicing through the noise of the room.