chapter 195 Dorian's Collapse
chapter 195 Dorian's Collapse
Lyra’s POV
“I go now to face whatever judgment awaits me. Before they take me to my execution, I will hold Celeste one last time. I will kiss her cold lips and beg her forgiveness for all the ways I failed to be the man she believed I could become.”
The diary entries ended there.
I closed the leather journal, my hands trembling slightly.
That's why he did it all. Just love twisted into obsession.
It didn't excuse his choices. Nothing could excuse what Eric had become. But understanding the path that led him there made my chest ache with something I hadn't expected to feel.
Pity.
-
Lyra's POV
The war was over.
I glanced at the ornate clock on our dresser. Seven-thirty. Dorian had promised to escort me to the alliance banquet at eight, yet he was nowhere to be found. Tonight's victory celebration for the Werewolf World Alliance should have felt triumphant.
The memory of Dorian wincing in pain over the past few days made my stomach tighten with worry.
The eclipse curse was getting worse.
Where is he?
I walked to the bedroom door, listening for any sounds from the hallway. The mansion felt too quiet, too still for this time of evening.
I kicked off my delicate heels and padded barefoot across the marble floor toward our private bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear the soft sound of running water.
"Dorian?" I called softly, pushing the door open.
The sight that greeted me made my blood turn to ice.
Dorian lay collapsed on the bathroom floor beside the marble bathtub, his powerful frame crumpled in an unnatural position. His dark suit was soaked with perspiration, and his silver hair clung damply to his forehead.
"Oh god, Dorian!" I rushed to his side. His skin burned with fever when I touched his face, and his body trembled with barely suppressed pain.
The eclipse curse had struck again, harder than ever before.
My hands shook as I tried to rouse him, but he remained unconscious.
I scrambled to my feet and rushed to the bedroom, grabbing my phone with trembling fingers. Marcus answered on the first ring.
"Marcus, I need you here immediately," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. "It's Dorian. He's collapsed."
"I'm on my way."
Within minutes, Marcus burst through the bedroom door. While Marcus stayed with Dorian, I made the necessary calls. To the alliance coordinators, I explained that I was feeling unwell and wouldn't be able to attend. To Owen and Clara, I suggested they represent the Blackthorne family at the celebration.
After ensuring our absence would be covered, I rushed to Dorian's private study. My hands shook as I entered the combination to his safe, searching desperately for the vials of medicine. The liquid inside was a pale blue color.
I ran back to the bathroom where Marcus was gently moving Dorian to a more comfortable position. Together, we managed to get the medicine down his throat, though most of it seemed to spill from his lips.
"It's not working," I whispered, watching as Dorian's condition failed to improve. If anything, he seemed to sink deeper into unconsciousness.
The next month became a living nightmare.
I took Dorian to every doctor I could find, both human and supernatural. We consulted witches, healers, and medical specialists from across the continent. Each one examined him thoroughly, running test after test, only to deliver the same devastating verdict:
"Physically, he appears healthy. But internally..." They would pause, searching for gentle words. "I'm sorry. There's nothing more we can do."
One of the pack's most experienced physicians was more direct when I pressed him for answers. "His wolf form has been overused, and each transformation has burned through what little resistance he had left."
His words hit me like physical blows. I remembered every moment Dorian had shifted to protect me. Each time, he'd ignored the pain, choosing my safety over his own well-being.
"This is my fault," I whispered. "He transformed so many times to save me. I'm the reason he's like this."
At first, I refused to believe them. There had to be some treatment they were missing. I threw myself into research with desperate intensity, pulling every medical text I could find, scouring my parents' old research notes for any mention of lunar eclipse curse treatments.
But as the weeks passed and Dorian's condition steadily worsened, the terrible truth began to sink in.
He was dying.
I barely slept, barely ate, spending every waking moment either caring for Dorian or searching for a cure.
Owen tried to convince me to rest. "Lyra, you need to take care of yourself. You can't help him if you collapse from exhaustion."
I refused, my eyes burning with unshed tears and stubborn determination.
Clara attempted a gentler approach. "Sweetheart, you've done everything humanly possible. Perhaps it's time to—"
"No." The word came out sharper than I intended. "I won't give up on him."
Even the pack doctor tried to intervene, practically ordering me to get some sleep. "Mrs. Blackthorne, you've been awake for thirty-six hours. Your eyes are bloodshot, your hands are shaking. This isn't sustainable."
"I said no." I turned on him with a fierceness that made him step back. "I'm not leaving his side. I'm not giving up."
Elena, too young to fully understand what was happening, would often cry when she saw her father's unconscious form. The sound of her sobs broke what was left of my heart, but I couldn't comfort her when I was barely holding myself together.