Chapter 191

Agnes

I couldn’t even bear to look at the bones of the once-beautiful manor that stood behind us. My stomach twisted with guilt every time I looked at it, and the lingering scent of smoke and burnt wood in the air only made it worse.

Truthfully, I hadn’t even wanted to come here today. But I had no choice.

A small crowd of reporters had gathered on our lawn. Cameras flashed intermittently, journalists jotting notes and whispering amongst themselves. Somehow, I managed to maintain a composed outward demeanor even though I was screaming on the inside.

Elijah stepped forward, his shoulders squared and head held high. Even in the midst of the crisis, and with a broken arm no less, he embodied the strength and authority of an Alpha. I admired that about him—his ability to remain steady when everything was falling apart. I certainly didn’t feel like I had that quality right now.

“Thank you all for coming,” Elijah addressed the reporters, gesturing behind us with his one good hand. “As you can see, our family has experienced a devastating loss. Three nights ago, an unfortunate accident occurred with the fireplace in our master bedroom. The fire spread quickly through the house.”

I swallowed hard at the lie. There had been no fireplace malfunction—only my hands shooting flames when I was startled awake.

But of course we couldn’t tell the public about my emerging elemental abilities. Not when we barely understood them ourselves. Until I learned to control them—if that ever happened—we couldn’t risk people finding out and panicking.

“Thankfully,” Elijah continued, “everyone made it out safely. My arm was broken during our escape, and my wife suffered minor smoke inhalation, but we’re all recovering well.” He placed his good arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his side. “We’re grateful that our daughter was unharmed.”

A reporter raised her hand. “Alpha Elijah, how long do you expect the rebuilding process to take?”

“We’re still assessing the structural damage, but we anticipate several months of construction. In the meantime, we’ll be staying at the pack’s guest lodge.”

Another reporter called out, “Luna Agnes, how are you coping with this tragedy coming so soon after discovering your daughter’s remains?”

My breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t expected them to bring up Isabella. The wound was still raw, and the reminder felt like a knife twisting in my gut. But I forced myself to answer, knowing that my silence would only fuel even more unwanted speculation.

“Our family has faced several challenges recently,” I said. Somehow, my voice came out steady and strong, which was a surprise. “But we’re taking it one day at a time. We have each other, and that’s what matters most.”

Elijah squeezed my shoulder in silent support.

“Please don’t pity us,” I added, lifting my chin slightly. “Many families in our pack have overcome greater hardships. We’ll rebuild, and our home will be stronger for it.”

That much was true. I couldn’t deny that.

“Miss Thea,” one of the reporters then said, “what do you have to say about all of this?”

My spine straightened, but Thea stepped forward with a brave face. “My daddy saved us,” she announced proudly. “He carried us out of the fire like a superhero.”

The reporters chuckled, and I saw several of them scribbling down her words. Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help but smile at her adoration of Elijah. She wasn’t wrong—he had saved us, risking his own safety to get us out alive.

And I loved him all the more for it.

The questions continued for another fifteen minutes. We responded with practiced composure, presenting the image of a united family facing adversity with grace. By the time Elijah concluded the press conference, the mood had shifted from morbid curiosity to respectful sympathy.

As the reporters packed up their equipment and began to disperse, Elijah turned toward the shell of our house, keeping his voice low.

“The contractors will be here tomorrow morning,” he said. “They’ll need guidance on the rebuilding plans. I want you to have as much input as you’d like, Agnes. This is your home too.”

I stared at the blackened timbers and collapsed roof. How could I possibly help redesign the home that I had destroyed? The guilt I felt just looking at it was suffocating. Redesigning it, the cost…

“I don’t know if I can,” I admitted quietly. “Every time I look at it, I just see what I did.”

“What happened wasn’t your fault,” he insisted for what felt like the hundredth time since it had all happened.

I nodded silently. Even if I didn’t believe his words, I couldn’t bear to disappoint him further, so I made a quiet vow to quit complaining and buck up.

“I promise I’ll try to help with the plans,” I finally said. “Maybe focusing on the future will be good for me.”

Elijah smiled gently. “That’s all I ask.”

Thea tugged at the hem of my shirt, drawing my attention downward. I crouched to her level. Her eyes were watering, and it broke my heart.

Forcing a gentle smile, I brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead and tucked them behind her ear.

“I’m sorry for scaring you that night,” I whispered. I couldn’t even count how many times I had apologized since the fire, but I couldn’t stop myself. The image of her terrified face illuminated by flames from my own hands would haunt me forever. “I never meant to frighten you.”

“I know, Mommy,” she said simply. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just sad that my teddy bear got burned up in the fire.”

I sighed. Her favorite teddy bear, the one we’d made for her at the mall. Elijah had searched the rubble this morning, but it was gone. The stuffed animal was certainly nothing but ashes now.

“We’ll get you a new teddy bear,” I promised, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Maybe even today. We can go to the toy store and make a new one.”

Thea nodded, but I could tell from her expression that no replacement would truly satisfy her. That bear had been her best friend through thick and thin.

“Why don’t you go with Daddy to get a snack?” I suggested, nodding toward Elijah. “I just need a minute alone, okay?”

She seemed to understand, skipping over to Elijah, who was speaking with James near the driveway. I watched them for a moment, then turned toward the gardens.

The contrast between the destroyed house and the untouched grounds was stark. The gardens remained pristine, vibrant with early summer blossoms. The willow tree where we had laid Isabella to rest swayed gently in the breeze, its long branches creating a curtain of privacy around the small grave.

I made my way there. The grave was still fresh, the earth darker than the surrounding soil. Someone had placed fresh flowers there that morning.

Kneeling beside the grave, I felt a surge of heat flare through my veins. The now-familiar sensation started in my core and raced outward, like wildfire spreading through my body. I closed my eyes, concentrating on pushing it back down, containing it before it could manifest.

Not here, I pleaded silently. Not at her grave.

Gradually, the heat receded, leaving me trembling with the effort of controlling it. I reached up to touch the small white stone charm hanging around my neck—the one Tara had given me at Isabella’s funeral.

“Isabella,” I whispered, feeling slightly foolish for talking to a grave, “Tara said you’re my spirit guide now. That you never truly left me.” I swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “If that’s true, if you’re really watching over me somehow, I could use your help right now. These powers—I don’t understand them. I can’t control them. I need guidance.”

The breeze ruffled my hair, but there was no magical response, no sign that my daughter’s spirit had heard me. I hadn’t really expected one, but the silence still felt disappointing.

“I’ll protect Thea better than I protected you,” I promised the silent grave. “I won’t let anything happen to her. Somehow, I’ll learn to control this fire inside of me.”

Once again—no response.

I sat in silence for a few moments. But it wasn’t long before the sound of footsteps on the grass alerted me to someone’s approach. I turned to see Elijah walking toward me, his expression grim.

“Agnes,” he said as he reached me. “I just got another call from the prison.”

I stood slowly, brushing soil from my knees. “What is it this time?”

“Olivia’s requesting to speak with me again.”

My body tensed. “And I’m guessing you’re going to deny her request again?”

Elijah hesitated, his jaw tightening. “Actually, I think I’m going to do it this time.”