Chapter 173

Kayla

I stared at the guard in shock. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Alpha Nicholas’s orders, Luna.” The guard—a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair cropped close to his scalp—stood firm. “I’m to remain by your side today.”

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“I understand, Luna, but I have my orders.”

I straightened my spine, summoning what little authority I could muster at the moment. “As your Luna, I’m ordering you to return to your regular duties. I release you from Nicholas’s command.”

“Alpha Nicholas warned me you might try that,” the guard replied, unfazed. “He instructed me specifically not to obey any orders from you that contradict his own regarding your safety. I apologize, Luna, but I cannot leave your side today.”

My cheeks burned with embarrassment and irritation. Was I that predictable? Or did Nicholas just know me that well? Either way, it stung to be so easily outmaneuvered, to have my authority as Luna dismissed so effortlessly.

I blew out a long, frustrated breath. “Fine. But at least tell me your name if you’re going to be my shadow today.”

“Eli, Luna.”

“Well, Eli, I hope you enjoy watching me eat breakfast and read a book, because that’s about as exciting as my day is going to get.”

With that, I turned and resumed making my breakfast, only now I made a particular effort to slam cupboards and bang pots around.

My anger wasn’t really directed at the guard, though—he was just doing his job. No, I was angry at Nicholas for this ridiculous overreaction, for treating me like a child who couldn’t be trusted. But beneath that anger, a small voice whispered that maybe, just maybe, I’d earned this distrust with my reckless actions.

The day dragged on interminably. I tried to lose myself in a book, but found myself reading the same paragraph over and over. It wasn’t easy to do much of anything with someone staring at me all day.

By evening, my initial irritation had settled into a dull resignation. I was curled up on the sofa in the living room, trying to watch a movie with my silent guard watching over me like a hawk, when I heard the front door open. My heart leapt into my throat, and I sat up straight, turning off the television.

Nicholas walked in first, his expression giving nothing away as his honey-colored eyes briefly flickered to mine before sliding away. Marcus followed behind him, offering me a small, encouraging smile.

“Nicholas,” I started, rising to my feet.

Nicholas brushed past me without a word, heading toward the kitchen. The dismissal felt like a slap to the face, and I stood frozen, uncertain whether to follow or give him the space he clearly wanted.

Marcus stopped beside me, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We got it,” he said softly, holding up a small plastic bag containing what looked like a fine, sage-colored powder. “The antidote.”

My eyes widened, and I reached for it with trembling fingers. “This is it? Really? This will wake my father?”

“According to Liam, yes.” Marcus placed the bag carefully in my palm, closing my fingers around it. “It needs to be administered intravenously. We’ve already arranged with the hospital in Bluemoon territory. They’re expecting us tomorrow morning.”

Tears pricked at my eyes, and I clutched the bag to my chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. Because it was. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you so much.”

I looked past Marcus to the kitchen doorway, where Nicholas had disappeared. “Both of you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Marcus said, his voice low enough that presumably only I could hear. “It was Nicholas who insisted on retrieving it immediately. He was… determined.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “He hates me right now.”

Marcus squeezed my shoulder gently. “He doesn’t hate you, Kayla. He’s hurt. And scared. Yesterday, after you tried taking that potion…” Marcus shook his head. “I’ve known Nicholas a long time, and I’ve never seen him like that. He was terrified.”

“I didn’t mean to scare him,” I said softly.

“I know. And deep down, Nicholas knows too. He’ll come around. Just give him time.”

I nodded, wanting desperately to believe Marcus’s words. But the cold way Nicholas had looked through me rather than at me told a different story.

And yet, if Nicholas truly only wanted me for Luporath, as Grace had warned, why would he go out of his way to retrieve the antidote for my father? Was it just to keep me compliant, to ensure I’d continue helping him find the artifact? Or was it because, despite everything, he truly cared?

I wanted, of course, to believe it was the latter. I trusted him. Or so I thought.

Morning came too quickly and not quickly enough, and the drive to Bluemoon territory passed in a blur. I clutched the small bag containing the antidote in my palm, terrified of losing it, of dropping it, of watching it dissolve into nothing before we reached the hospital.

At the hospital, the doctor was waiting outside my father’s room. Her expression was grave as she greeted me. “Luna Kayla. I understand you’ve obtained a potential treatment for your father’s condition?”

I nodded, holding up the small bag. “It’s supposed to be an antidote to the poison that put him in this state.”

The doctor’s frown deepened. “I must caution you that administering an unverified substance carries significant risks. We haven’t been able to identify the cause of your father’s coma despite extensive testing. This could potentially worsen his condition or cause adverse reactions.”

“I understand the risks,” I said firmly. “But I also know my father would rather take the chance than remain in this state indefinitely.”

She studied me for a long moment, then flicked her gaze over my shoulder where Nicholas and Marcus stood silent, then sighed. “Very well. We’ll proceed. But I need you to sign a waiver acknowledging that you understand and accept these risks.”

I scribbled my signature across the form without hesitation, then followed the doctor into my father’s room.

The sight of him there, in the exact same position he’d been every day for the past two years, sent a fresh wave of pain through my chest. Tubes and wires connected him to various machines that beeped and hummed, the only indication that life still clung to his body.

I moved to his side, taking his cold hand in mine. “Hi, Dad,” I whispered. “I’m back. And I think… I think I might have found a way to bring you back to me.”

Nicholas stood by the door, keeping his distance. I glanced back at him, our eyes meeting for the first time all day. Something unreadable flickered in his gaze before he looked away again.

The doctor took the bag from me, examining the powder inside. “I’ll need to prepare this for intravenous administration. It will take a few minutes.”

I nodded, settling into the chair beside my father’s bed while she worked. I kept hold of his hand, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles, talking to him softly about everything and nothing. I told him about the pack, about Nicholas, even about the baby growing inside of me. Nicholas tensed at that last part, and to my surprise, when I looked up, he had inched a little closer to where I saw.

Finally, the doctor returned with a syringe filled with a now-liquid version of the powder. “We’re ready,” she said, moving to the IV stand. “Once again, I must warn you that we cannot predict how this will affect your father’s system.”

“I understand,” I repeated. “Please, do it.”

With a nod, she inserted the needle into the port of the IV bag. The amber liquid mingled with the clear fluid, creating swirls that slowly disappeared as the solution mixed.

“Now we wait,” the doctor said, stepping back. “It will take some time for the medication to enter his system and circulate.”

I leaned forward, still clutching my father’s hand, my gaze fixed on his face. Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours. The beeping of the heart monitor remained steady, unchanged. I began to lose hope.

But then, almost imperceptibly at first, my father’s fingers twitched within mine. I froze, certain I had imagined it. But no—there it was again, a definite movement.

“Dad?” I whispered, hardly daring to breathe.

The doctor moved quickly to the bedside, checking his vitals.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst from my chest as I watched my father’s face. His eyelids flickered, a slight movement that might have been missed if I hadn’t been staring so intently.

“Dad,” I said again, louder this time, squeezing his hand. “Dad, it’s me. It’s Kayla. Can you hear me?”

No answer. Not yet, anyway. I shot to my feet, leaning over him as his fingers twitched again. Nicholas surged closer to me, his presence warm and steady and just as eager as I felt.

And then, like a miracle, my father’s eyes fluttered open.

“Kayla…?”