Chapter 30 She Won't Refuse Me

Chapter 30 She Won't Refuse Me
Reginald's POV

The emergency call came at three in the afternoon. Isabella and I were sitting in separate rooms when our phones buzzed with the same urgent message from the border patrol, and we both rushed out simultaneously, meeting in the mansion's front hall with matching expressions of dread.

We didn't speak during the frantic drive to the medical center, and when we burst through the doors, a pack doctor was already waiting for us in the corridor, his expression grim as he gestured for us to follow him toward the emergency wing.

He said, his voice clipped and efficient. "Your daughter Vanessa sustained severe injuries during rogues attack approximately two hours ago. Right femur completely shattered with multiple bone fragments, left tibia fractured in three places, moderate concussion."

The words hit me like physical blows, each one driving deeper. I felt my hands curl into fists so tight that my nails pierced the skin of my palms, felt the hot trickle of blood between my fingers, but the pain was nothing compared to the rage building in my chest.

Isabella swayed beside me, her hand shooting out to brace against the wall, and I saw her lips moving soundlessly as if she was trying to form words but couldn't get them past the shock.

"Where is she?" I managed to get out, my voice coming out rougher than I intended, edged with the growl I was fighting to suppress.

The doctor led us down a corridor that smelled too strongly of disinfectant, and I felt my control slipping with each step.

Isabella finally found her voice as we walked, her words tumbling out in a high, sharp pitch that grated against my already frayed nerves. "How could Vanessa be hurt this badly? Her legs are shattered, her neck nearly torn open..."

"Shut up," I snapped, not looking at her, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead because I knew if I looked at her right now I would say things that couldn't be taken back. "Your shouting isn't helping anyone."

"Don't tell me to shut up!" Her voice climbed higher, cracking at the edges. "Our daughter is lying in there with her legs shattered and you're acting like it's nothing! You're supposed to be her father, you're supposed to protect her, but you couldn't even do that! You're useless!"

I stopped walking and turned to face her, and I felt my eyes flash with golden light as my wolf surged up, felt my canines extend slightly before I forced them back. "Control yourself," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "And keep your mouth shut before you say something that makes me forget we're in public."

She flinched back, genuine fear flickering across her face for just a moment before defiance replaced it, but she didn't say anything else. We continued walking in silence, and when we finally reached the waiting area outside the emergency wing, we sat on opposite ends of the long bench with a deliberate gap between us.

The distance felt like a chasm. Ever since the banquet, ever since she had stood up in front of everyone and spewed those secrets like poison, ever since she had revealed herself, I couldn't stand to be near her. Every time I looked at her I felt nothing but disgust.

We sat in that awful silence for what felt like hours, the only sounds the distant beeping of medical equipment and the occasional footsteps of nurses passing by. Isabella kept wringing her hands in her lap, twisting her fingers together until the knuckles went white, and I stared at the wall across from us and tried to keep my breathing steady.

Finally, she spoke again, her voice quieter now. "This isn't normal, Reginald. Too many things have gone wrong in too short a time. First we both got sick, then Liam broke his arm in that training accident, and now Vanessa gets attacked by rogues. It's like we're cursed."

I didn't answer immediately, but her words struck something inside me that I had been trying to ignore. She was right. The pattern was too obvious, too concentrated to be coincidence.

"And that night at the banquet," Isabella continued. "When I said all those things, when I couldn't stop myself from speaking even though I knew it would destroy us, it felt like someone else was controlling my mouth. Like something was forcing the words out."

"You're looking for excuses," I said flatly. "You said what you said because that's who you really are. There's no mysterious force making you cruel."

But even as I dismissed her theory out loud, my mind was racing back to that night, remembering the way my wolf had surged up with such violence that I had almost completely lost control. I had felt something then, something wrong, like invisible chains wrapping around my consciousness and pulling in directions I didn't want to go.

"You felt it too," Isabella said, watching my face. "You were stange that night as well."

I clenched my jaw and looked away, refusing to acknowledge what she was seeing. "We're under stress. That's all."

"Then explain Elara," she said, and the name made me freeze. "Explain how she knew things about us that no one could have known. Explain how she made me tell the truth when I was desperate to lie."

The memory of Elara's face swam up in my mind, those silver eyes that had looked at me with such cold certainty when she had delivered her warning. I had dismissed it at the time as theatrical nonsense, the kind of tricks that rogues learned to survive, but now her words came back with uncomfortable clarity.

"She warned us," I said slowly, the realization settling over me like ice water. "After the banquet, when we confronted her. She said that once the blood-draining formation was broken, Vanessa would face suffering, calamity, and death threats at ten times the intensity."

Isabella's breath caught. "I remember. She said Vanessa should bring that necklace and come find her personally."

The necklace. The thought hit me with sudden urgency, and I pushed myself up from the bench and strode toward Vanessa's hospital room, my heart pounding. Isabella called after me in confusion, but I ignored her and shoved open the door.

Vanessa lay unconscious in the hospital bed, her face deathly pale against the white pillows, her legs elevated and wrapped in heavy casts. Tubes ran from her arms to IV bags, and monitors beeped steadily beside her, tracking her vital signs.

I moved to her bedside and looked down at her neck. It was bare except for the bandages covering the claw marks, no jewelry of any kind.

"The necklace," I said, my voice rough. "Where is it?"

Isabella had followed me into the room. "At home, in her jewelry box. Why does it matter?"

I turned to face her, and I felt my breathing becoming unsteady as the realization crystallized. "Vanessa's childhood disasters—all those accidents and near-death experiences we could never explain. They all happened to Elara instead."

I moved closer, keeping my voice low. "If Elara can force people to tell the truth against their will, then what she knows isn't just tricks or games. She understands things we don't."

I paused, my chest tightening. "Maybe... maybe everything she said was true."

Isabella opened her mouth to argue, but before she could speak, Vanessa stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy with pain medication.

"Nicholas broke up with me," she whispered, her voice cracking. "He said he never loved me. He said I was nothing compared to Elara."

Isabella rushed to her bedside. "Sweetheart, do you understand what happened to you? Do you know your legs are broken?"

But Vanessa didn't seem to hear her. Tears streamed down her face as she continued in that same broken whisper. "He was so cruel. He said I was ordinary and weak. He said everything about me pales in comparison to her. It's all Elara's fault. She took him from me. Everything is her fault."

I stood at the foot of the bed and watched my daughter cry over a boy who had betrayed her while her shattered legs lay immobile beneath heavy casts, and I felt something twist painfully in my chest.

I took a deep breath and moved to stand beside the bed. "Vanessa, listen to me carefully. The timing of this attack wasn't coincidence. You were vulnerable, alone with Nicholas in an isolated area, and rogues just happened to find you at exactly that moment?"

She blinked up at me, confusion cutting through the tears.

"Elara's prediction is coming true," I continued, my voice steady and cold. "The nightmares you've been having, Nicholas abandoning you, this attack. These are just the beginning. If what she said about the formation is real, if the backlash is real, then the next incident won't just injure you. It will kill you."

"No," Isabella said sharply. "Don't listen to him, Vanessa. He's trying to scare you."

I turned on her. "She should be scared! Our daughter nearly had her throat torn out today, and you want to pretend everything is fine? You want to cling to your pride while she bleeds?"

"I won't let you send her crawling to that girl," Isabella shot back. "I won't let you humiliate our family any further. Elara just wants the necklace, she's trying to trick us into giving her."

"Dignity?" The word came out as a snarl. "What dignity do we have left? You destroyed it yourself at the banquet. So tell me, Isabella, what matters more to you? A piece of jewelry, or our daughter's life?"

She recoiled as if I had struck her, her face going white.

I turned back to Vanessa, and I saw real fear in her eyes now. "If the calamity written in your fate is still unfolding, if today's attack was just the first wave of retribution, then this isn't the end. This is the beginning of a very long and very painful reckoning."

Vanessa's hands trembled against the white sheets, her breathing coming faster. "What do I do?"

Before I could answer, the door opened and Liam walked in, his right arm still suspended in a sling from his training accident. His expression was calm and determined, and he moved to stand at the foot of Vanessa's bed.

"I heard everything," he said, his voice steady. "Let me handle the necklace. I'll take it to Elara myself and ask her to help Vanessa."

Isabella started to protest, but Liam cut her off with a look that was surprisingly mature. "I've been Elara's brother for eighteen years. We grew up together. Elara owes us eighteen years of care and support. Asking her to save Vanessa's life in exchange for that debt isn't unreasonable."

"She won't refuse me."