Chapter 41: Chapter Forty-one

Chapter 41

Elena's POV

It had been three days since Edgar collapsed.

Three days of silence. Three days of unanswered prayers, pacing footsteps, and hushed voices behind doors. And still, the Alpha of Ironclad lay motionless on the healer’s stone bed, pale and drenched in the scent of dried herbs and fading strength.

I sat beside him now, a cloth in my hand, soaking away the sweat beading on his forehead. His body was hot, too hot for any wolf, Alpha or not. The blood curse that once clawed at him silently had now dragged him into the brink of death, or something close to it. His chest barely moved. His wolf was silent.

Unnervingly silent.

“He’s not getting better,” the healer whispered from behind me. His voice was low, as if afraid of waking him. “Whatever his mother did... it wasn’t just a curse. It was a tether to something darker. Ancient. He's supposed to be fine after the curse has been removed, but I don't know why he's still unconscious.”

I kept my eyes on Edgar. “Can he hear us?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But his soul is wandering. If it doesn’t find its way back…”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.

I have seen many things in my lifetime. Wars. Betrayals. The fall of Alphas. But this? Watching Edgar, so strong, so feared, reduced to nothing more than a fragile form felt wrong. Like the universe had made a mistake and wouldn’t admit it.

The pack was restless. Rumors flew through the halls of Duskwood like wildfire. Some said the Alpha was already dead and we were hiding it. Others said he was cursed because he took a human mate. And a dangerous few whispered that maybe... maybe it was time for a new leader.

My fists clenched.

“No,” I muttered.

“Pardon?” the healer asked.

“He’s not done. Not yet.”

The healer gave me a look, sympathetic, like he’d seen this hope before and watched it rot.

“Hope is a good thing,” she said, brushing past me. “But even good things can’t outrun the inevitable.”

I didn’t reply.

I sat with Edgar until the sun dipped beneath the horizon. The sky outside his window bled with oranges and reds, and I could almost hear the distant howl of the Ironclad wolves patrolling. They were holding it together, for now. But I knew it wouldn’t last.

The pack needed a leader.

And Edgar needed time.

Unfortunately, he might not have either.

A soft knock came on the wooden door.

“Come in,” I said, not moving from my chair.

Quinn stepped inside. Her eyes looked haunted, as if she hadn’t slept since Edgar’s collapse. I didn’t blame her. If the rumors were true, she had more to do with this than any of us could have imagined.

“I brought more herbal compounds,” she said quietly. “It might help with the fever.”

I nodded. “Leave it on the table.”

She didn’t move immediately.

“I didn’t know,” she said, her voice cracking. “What she’d do to him.”

I turned to face her. “But you knew she’d do something.”

Quinn flinched like I’d slapped her.

“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” she said. “Just a chance to make it right.”

I stared at her. Broken, guilt-ridden, and more dangerous than she looked.

“If he dies, there will be nothing left to fix.”

She nodded and backed out of the room.

I turned back to Edgar. He looked peaceful now, as if he were only asleep. But I knew better. The Moon Goddess had answered once. Would she do so again?

I stood, walking toward the altar at the far corner of the healer’s hut. It was small, dusty. Most had forgotten it was even here. But I hadn’t.

I knelt.

“Moon Mother,” I whispered. “We need you again. He needs you again.”

Silence.

“I don’t beg. Not easily. But for him, I’ll do more than that. He’s your chosen, your Alpha. He made mistakes. He trusted the wrong people. But hasn’t he paid enough?”

Still, no answer. Just the low creaking of wood and the soft flicker of candlelight.

I stood and returned to Edgar’s side.

“Come back,” I said softly, brushing a lock of dark hair from his forehead. “Because if you don’t, this pack will fall apart. Lia’s not here. And there’s no one strong enough to hold it all together but you.”

His hand twitched.

I blinked.

For a moment, I thought I imagined it. But then it happened again, a slight jerk, so small it could’ve been a muscle spasm. But it was something.

“Edgar?” I leaned in, heart pounding.

He didn’t respond. But his lips moved.

Barely.

A whisper of breath.

“…Lia…”

I gasped.

“He’s still in there,” I said aloud. “He’s fighting.”

The healer rushed back into the room. “What did you say?”

“His lips moved. He said her name.”

He came closer, checking his pulse, his breath, his eyes.

“He’s not improving physically,” she murmured. “But mentally... spiritually, perhaps... something's shifting.”

I nodded slowly.

Then I did something I never thought I would. I reached out and took his hand.

“I’ll keep fighting for you,” I whispered. “Until you find your way back.”

And in the quiet, in the heaviness of the room and the weight of every unspoken word, we waited.

We waited for Edgar Nolan to return.

But the Moon Goddess wasn’t finished with him yet.

Not by far.