Chapter 73 The Silent Welcome
Lila woke with a gasp, her body jerking upright as her hands flew to her side, searching desperately for the wound that should have been there.
The memory burned vivid and terrible in her mind. corrupted wolves circling with glowing eyes, claws tearing through Red's flank, blood soaking into copper-red fur while pain exploded through every nerve.
But her fingers found only smooth skin beneath the rough fabric of her shirt. She pressed harder, searching for any trace of injury, any tenderness or swelling or the raised edges of healing tissue. Nothing. Her side was whole and unbroken as if the attack had never happened at all.
Disorientation crashed over her as she blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of her surroundings.
This wasn't the forest clearing where she'd nearly died. Wasn't the blood-soaked earth where the hunter wolf had saved her life.
This was her room, the small chamber she'd occupied in Moonstone Palace before Celeste's wedding had taken her north and changed everything.
Nothing had changed here. The same faded curtains hung at the windows, their edges worn thin by years of sun.
The same threadbare carpet covered the floor, its once-bright pattern dulled to muted browns and grays.
The same narrow bed held her weight, the mattress dipping in the familiar spots where she'd slept for nineteen years before leaving. It was as if she'd never left at all, as if the past three years had been nothing but some terrible dream she was only now waking from.
Lila touched her side again and again, pressing until it should have hurt, until she should have felt something other than healthy flesh and muscle beneath her probing fingers.
Her natural wolf healing powers had always been weak, practically nonexistent compared to other wolves.
She healed at human speed, which was why Adrian's cane mark still remained on her shoulder, a pale scar from when she had been flogged.
That mark had been there for three weeks and showed no signs of fading because her body simply didn't possess the accelerated healing that made wolves nearly invincible.
So how had a wound this severe disappeared completely in just a few hours?
Red had taken significant damage from those claws, she remembered the tearing sensation, the hot rush of blood, the weakness that had made her stumble.
There should be something left behind, at least a scar or tender spot or some evidence that she'd nearly been killed in that clearing.
But her skin was perfect and whole and utterly unmarked. She felt strong in a way she rarely did, energized rather than exhausted despite riding through the entire night and collapsing at the palace gates.
Red's energy must have sustained her far more than she'd ever realized was possible. Thankfully she'd used her wolf form at that crucial moment when the corrupted wolves attacked, because if she'd faced those rougues as human her body would be aching and feverish and possibly infected right now.
Instead she felt better than she had in months, maybe years, as if transforming into Red and surviving that attack had somehow strengthened her rather than weakening her.
Lila moved to the window and pulled back the curtain, squinting against sunlight that streamed in bright and strong. Was it still morning?
She studied the angle of the light, the way shadows fell across the courtyard below. Noon, she decided. Maybe early afternoon. She pressed one hand against her mouth as realization hit her like cold water.
Was it another day entirely? How long had she been unconscious after the guards found her at the gates?
She moved out of her room quickly, her bare feet silent on cold stone floors as she entered the living room space she knew so well from childhood.
But Moonstone Palace held an unusual quietness that made her steps slow and cautious.
Even when she'd never been valued here, when servants had looked through her rather than at her, there had always been life humming through these halls.
Maids hurrying between chambers with fresh linens. Guards changing shifts with the clank of armor. Cooks shouting orders in the kitchens. Nobles coming and going with the rustle of fine clothes and the murmur of important conversations.
Now the whole place seemed quiet and dull, empty in a way that felt wrong and unsettling. The silence pressed against her ears until she could hear her own heartbeat, her own breathing, the whisper of her shirt against her skin.
"Mother?" Lila called out as she walked gently toward her mother's chambers, her voice sounding too loud and too small at the same time.
Servants appeared from doorways and bowed slightly when they saw her. The same treatment she'd always received here.
At her home she was free to move as she pleased, to come and go without question or restraint, just not loved the way she would have enjoyed being loved. Not cherished and protected and made to feel precious the way parents should make their children feel.
The love that came so naturally between parents and their offspring, that flowed without effort or condition, had never existed between Lila and her family.
Her parents' favoritism wasn't hidden or subtle or something you had to look closely to see. It glared like the sun, impossible to ignore or deny.
She was nothing compared to Celeste, had always been nothing, would always be nothing no matter what she did or how hard she tried.
Since Celeste's death she'd heard nothing from her parents, not a single letter asking her to come home or inquiring how she was coping with the loss. Not one question about Theo, their own grandson who they'd met only once before dismissing him as Adrian's responsibility rather than their family.
Now standing back in these familiar halls it was like she wasn't there at all, like her presence made no difference to anyone. Everything stood still and frozen, more absent than it had ever been even when she'd lived here and been ignored daily.
She remembered the day Celeste had returned from a far journey to the Eastern Kingdom with perfect clarity.
The palace had erupted in celebration that lasted three days and nights. Dancers had filled the courtyards with swirling colors.
Drummers had played until their hands bled and then kept playing. Their mother had never left Celeste's side, touching her constantly as if to confirm she was real and whole and truly home.
Now there was nothing for Lila's return except silence and shadows and empty rooms.
"Mother?" She called again as she stood at the entrance to her mother's chambers, the door standing slightly ajar.
Then she saw it, a slight trace of light spilling from the opening of Celeste's old room, just a thin line of pale illumination that caught her attention and pulled her forward.
She realized that much time hadn't passed after all. It was noon but still the same day she'd arrived at the gates bloody and half-dead.
She'd been unconscious for only a few hours rather than the days it had felt like. She felt strong and whole and better than usual, all thanks to Red's energy flowing through her veins and bones.