Chapter 233

Agnes

Elise’s smile faded the instant she saw Lena.

Her eyes went as wide as saucers. Her mouth opened and closed several times, like a fish out of water. Then, slowly, she raised a trembling finger toward Lena.

“She… She…”

I blinked, confused. “That’s Lena,” I said, wondering if Elise was having another one of her spells. “She’s our nanny.”

Elise whipped her head toward me. “Your nanny?”

I nodded slowly, and Elise looked back at Lena, her mouth agape. Lena was still standing there, staring at Elise.

But before Elise could say anything else, her eyes rolled back in her head. Her knees buckled, and she began to crumple to the floor.

“Elise!” I gasped, lunging forward to catch her before she hit the ground. I managed to break her fall, cradling her limp body as I knelt on the polished floor. Her head lolled against my arm, her skin already having gone cold and clammy to the touch.

Richard rushed over to us and dropped onto his knees beside me. “Elise! Elise, darling, can you hear me?” he called, patting her cheeks gently. But she didn’t respond; her face had gone ashen and eerily still.

I looked up, searching for Lena, but the spot where she had been standing was now hidden by the surging crowd. The room had devolved into chaos.

“Someone get the doctor!” Richard shouted. He gathered Elise into his arms, lifting her as if she weighed nothing.

I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding. Elijah appeared at my side, his arm wrapping protectively around my waist to help me stand in my heavy dress.

“Is she…?” I began, afraid to finish the question.

“She’s breathing,” Richard said grimly, already striding toward the doors. “But barely.”

Richard carried Elise swiftly from the hall, followed by several concerned-looking pack members. The rest of the guests stood in stunned silence, uncertain what to do in the wake of such a disturbing turn of events.

After a moment, Richard’s Beta stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Alpha Richard requests that everyone return to their homes now,” he announced. “The party is over.”

…

A little while later, Elijah and I stood outside Elise’s room. The door was closed, but we could hear movement inside—the low murmur of Richard’s voice and that of the doctor.

We must have stood in the corridor for nearly an hour by now, but neither Elijah nor I could bring ourselves to step away. Elijah leaned against the wall, head tilted back and eyes gazing at the ceiling. I was pacing and resisting the urge to bite my nails.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door opened. I immediately halted my pacing and rushed over, coming up beside Elijah, who pushed away from the wall.

Richard emerged first, followed by an older man carrying a medical bag—the doctor. The doctor’s face was grave, his mouth set in a firm line. He gave Elijah and me a curt nod before striding away down the corridor without a word.

Richard looked utterly exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and a slump to his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. He ran a hand over his face, which had seemed to age ten years in the span of just a few hours.

“I need a drink,” he said flatly. “Come with me.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed in the opposite direction from the doctor. Elijah and I exchanged a look before following him.

Richard led us outside, to a garden that was hauntingly beautiful in the moonlight. Stone paths wound between perfectly manicured hedges and flower beds, with a fountain burbling gently at the center. He walked to a small stone bench near the fountain and sank onto it, pulling a flask from his jacket pocket.

He took a long swig before offering it to Elijah, who accepted it with a nod. I declined when Elijah offered it to me, preferring to keep my head clear.

“How is she?” I finally asked, breaking the silence.

Richard stared into the darkness. “Alive,” he said hollowly. “But barely. The doctor says her condition took a considerable drop tonight.”

“I’m so sorry,” I murmured. “Is there anything we can do?”

Richard shook his head. “She shouldn’t have been out of bed, much less at a party. All that effort—getting dressed, doing her hair—it must have drained what little energy she had left.”

I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly guilty. Maybe if I hadn’t stepped in, and had instead let Richard whisk her away, this wouldn’t have happened. “Richard, I’m sorry if I made things worse by supporting her desire to stay at the party,” I said softly. “I didn’t realize how serious her condition was.”

He looked up at me, and his eyes softened slightly as he took in my worried expression. “No, Agnes. It’s not your fault. The truth is… I wish she could be by my side, too. I miss her.”

With a sight, he took another drink from the flask, which Elijah had handed back to him. “I miss dancing with her, watching her beautiful form in glittering gowns. Goddess, we used to dance for hours.” A sad smile crossed his face. “You and Elijah remind me of us, you know. When we were younger.”

I glanced at Elijah and felt my heart sink a little. When he met my gaze, there was a profound sadness there that made my breath hitch.

“I would give anything to have that back,” Richard continued, his voice cracking. “Anything.” He looked up at us, his eyes glistening in the moonlight. “Cherish each other. Never waste a moment together. You never know when it might be your last.”

We fell into silence, the only sound the gentle splashing of the fountain. I found myself reaching for Elijah’s hand, twining my fingers through his and holding on tight. He squeezed back, but nothing could comfort either of us right now.

After a while, Elijah spoke up. “Richard, if there’s anything we can do to help… Perhaps we could find specialists, doctors who might be able to help Elise? Silvermoon has all kinds of resources.”

But Richard was already shaking his head. “We’ve tried everything,” he said wearily. “Every doctor, every specialist, every treatment known to mankind. I’ve exhausted all our resources, all our connections.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “Her condition is… hopeless. The doctor just confirmed what I’ve known for weeks now: she’s in her last days.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Oh, Richard…”

“All we can do now is provide her comfort,” he said, staring at the ground between his feet. “Make her as comfortable as possible until the end.”

My heart broke for him. I thought of what it would be like to watch Elijah slowly slip away, to stand by helplessly as the person I loved most in the world faded before my eyes. The mere thought made my chest tighten painfully.

But what could I do? What could anyone do in the face of such tragedy?

We sat with Richard for a while longer, letting him talk about Elise—about how they met, fell in love, built a life together. About the early years of their marriage, when everything seemed possible. About her hiking adventures, her love of the wilderness, her fearlessness in the face of danger. Their struggles with having a child, ultimately discovering that Richard was sterile, but their love never wavered. Not even for a moment.

By the time we walked him back to the house, he seemed marginally better—not healed, and certainly not whole, but perhaps a little less broken than before.

Back in our room, Elijah and I undressed and prepared for bed in silence. I slipped under the covers, my body exhausted but my mind still racing. Elijah joined me a moment later, turning off the lamp on the bedside table.

In the darkness, he pulled me closer than he ever had before, his arms wrapping around me tightly as if afraid I might slip away from him in the night. I pressed myself against him, my head tucked under his chin, our heartbeats synchronizing as we breathed together.

We didn’t make love that night, didn’t speak, didn’t even move—just held each other with all of the strength we had.

Elijah’s arms remained locked around me all through the night, just like that. And when I woke the next morning, we were still tangled tightly together.