Chapter 76 This Feeling is so real
Maureen Laskovic
The balcony overlooked the sprawling gardens, where the jasmine bloomed in endless waves of white and green, their scent carried on the cool afternoon breeze like a whisper from a forgotten dream.
I stood there, gripping the stem of my wine glass a little too tightly, the crystal cool against my palm.
The sun was dipping lower, casting long shadows across the obsidian fortress walls, and yet, despite the warmth it promised, a chill lingered in my bones. It had been days since I woke from that endless sleep, but everything still felt… off. Like my body was a stranger’s, moving through motions it half-remembered.
“Livia!” I called, my voice sharper than I intended, echoing slightly off the stone balustrade.
She appeared almost instantly, gliding through the arched doorway with the quiet efficiency I’d come to rely on. Her dark hair was pinned back neatly, her black dress immaculate as always, but her eyes held that soft concern she’d worn since the moment I opened my eyes.
She bowed her head slightly.
“Yes, my lady?”
I turned to face her, setting the wine glass down on the small wrought-iron table beside me. I paused, chewing my lip, weighing my words.
The last thing I wanted was to make things awkward—Livia had been my anchor these past few days, dressing me, bringing meals, listening without judgment. But the question burned in my chest.
“Is it weird that I feel… off?” I asked finally, my voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Like something’s missing, or wrong inside me? I know I was sick, but this—it’s not just weakness. It’s deeper.”
Livia shook her head gently, her expression unchanging but kind.
“No, my lady. Not weird at all. You’ve endured more than most could fathom—a fever that nearly claimed you, months lost to the shadows. You’re indeed strong. I admire your strength, truly. It takes a rare soul to claw back from the brink like you have.”
Her words were sincere, without a trace of flattery, and they eased something tight in my chest. I managed a small smile, though it felt fragile on my lips.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
Then, as if sensing my need for distraction, she added, “Oh, and Nyxara is here for you, my lady. She’s waiting in the antechamber.”
A spark of something light flickered in me—excitement? Curiosity? It wasn’t quite friendship with Nyxara, not yet, but there was a bond there, forged in shared pain and quiet understandings.
“Oh, great. Send her in, please.”
Livia nodded and slipped away, her footsteps silent on the polished floor.
I turned back to the balcony for a moment, inhaling the jasmine deeply, letting its sweetness ground me. The gardens below were a testament to Vuk’s devotion—row after row planted while I slept, each bloom a silent vow. It should have filled me with joy, but instead, it stirred that hollow ache again.
I pushed it down as the door opened once more.
Nyxara entered with her usual grace, her dark curls bouncing slightly, violet eyes bright against her warm skin. She wore a simple yet elegant dress in deep crimson, hugging her curves just enough to hint at the confidence she’d reclaimed.
“Hey, Queen,” she greeted with a genuine smile, her voice light and teasing. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
I returned the smile, feeling it reach my eyes this time.
“Thanks.”
Before I could think better of it, I stepped forward and pulled her into a hug—a tight one, my arms wrapping around her as if to anchor us both.
She stiffened for a split second, surprised, then melted into it, hugging me back with equal fierceness. The scent of her—something spicy and floral—mingled with the jasmine, and for a moment, the world felt a little less tilted.
We pulled apart, and I studied her face, noting the flush in her cheeks.
“How are you? You good? Really good?” I asked, my words tumbling out with more concern than I’d planned.
She blushed deeper, a rare vulnerability crossing her features.
“Really? Yeah, thanks… I should be the one asking how you’re doing, not the other way around. And I’m so sorry I haven’t come to pay you a visit since you woke up. Eryx and I—we’ve been… occupied.”
There was a playful glint in her eye, but underneath it, genuine remorse.
“Oh, come on,” I waved it off, leading her to the plush couches near the hearth. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room. “I just woke up a few days ago. I’m okay… or at least, getting there. So… you have anything to say?” I prompted, settling into the cushions and gesturing for her to sit.
Nyxara sank down opposite me, her smile turning reflective.
“You were right… about everything.”
I tilted my head, curious.
“About…?”
“Everything,” she repeated, her voice softening. “Leaving my past behind. Letting it leave me. I thought it would haunt me forever—the pain, the betrayals, the way it shaped me into something hard and unbreakable. But surprisingly… I found two men who were ready to risk the world for me.”
She paused, her eyes distant for a moment, as if reliving it.
“Eryx, of course—you knew about that spark. But then there was Azreal…. I actually didn’t think he would, you know… I didn’t think I was going to end up with anyone…”
“Wow! That’s a lot…” I said. Who would believe that someone like me would shape someone’s life to this point?
“I was so jealous of you…. I was… Gods! You had Vuk and somehow the gods rewarded me with Eryx and Azreal!”
I leaned forward, intrigued.
“Two men? Tell me more. How did that even happen?”
She laughed—a light, genuine sound that filled the room and made me chuckle along with her.
“Well, Azreal and I were fuck buddies, but he changed—gods… he just started being so… I can’t believe him…”
She laughed and I did too.
“Awww, I’m jealous…” I said, hands dramatically on my chest.
“Girl, no you’re not!!!” she laughed, and I joined in.
A maid entered then, carrying a silver tray laden with chilled wine, fresh fruits—ripe berries and sliced peaches—and delicate pastries dusted with sugar.
She set it down between us, poured two glasses of the deep red vintage, and bowed before retreating.
I picked up a berry, popping it into my mouth, the tart sweetness bursting on my tongue. It was the first thing I’d truly tasted since waking, and it grounded me further.
“That’s incredible,” I said sincerely, raising my glass in a toast. “To new beginnings. I’m so happy for you, Nyxara. Truly. It sounds charming—almost like a fairy tale, but the real kind, with teeth and fire.”
She clinked her glass against mine, sipping deeply.
“Charming? Gods, yes. We’ve claimed a quiet wing in the east tower—nothing fancy, but it’s ours. Eryx trains with the guards by day, Azreal handles the night watches, and me… I’m finally breathing. No more hiding. No more shame. We laugh, we fight, we… well, you know.”
She winked, and we both dissolved into laughter again, the sound echoing off the high ceilings. It felt good—normal, even. Like two women sharing secrets in a world that had tried to break us both.
We talked for what felt like hours, the conversation flowing easily.
Eventually, curiosity got the better of me.
“So… what happened while I was in the coma? I mean, besides the gardens and… everything else. Vuk doesn’t talk about it much.”
Nyxara’s expression shifted—subtle, but I caught it. A flicker of hesitation. She set her glass down carefully.
“Your husband—the Alpha—made it forbidden to talk about your coma. Strictly. Listen… only a small circle knows you even fell into one. The court, the guards, a few trusted healers. To the rest of the dominion, you were ‘resting’ after a minor illness. He didn’t want rumors spreading, or enemies sniffing weakness.”
My brow furrowed.
“My illness was kept a forbidden secret? Why? I mean, I get protecting the pack, but—”
“Not really forbidden to everyone,” she clarified quickly. “Just… controlled. Your husband killed a lot—a lot—of doctors who couldn’t help. So you and your—”
She stopped abruptly, her words cutting off like a snapped thread.
Her eyes darted to my belly, lingering there for a heartbeat too long, then snapped back to my face. She forced a smile, too quick, too tight, and reached for her wine, taking a long sip as if to wash away whatever had almost slipped out.
I narrowed my eyes, the warmth from moments ago cooling rapidly.
“You and my… what?” I pressed, my voice steady but edged with suspicion. That glance—it wasn’t casual. It was pointed, like she knew something about the emptiness I’d been feeling, the phantom pains that whispered of loss.
Nyxara shook her head, her smile holding but strained.
“Nothing. Just… you and your strength. That’s all. Anyway, more wine?”
She poured herself another glass, her hand steady, but I saw the faint tremor.
The room felt heavier now, the laughter faded.
Something was there, unsaid, hanging between us like a shadow. And whatever it was, it tied back to the secrets Vuk was keeping.
To the off feeling that wouldn’t leave me.
I forced a nod, but inside, the questions burned brighter than the dying fire.