Chapter 282
Sapphire’s POV
My heart beats softly in my chest, a gentle thump that feels oddly slow and out of place. My eyes stay closed while a cool breeze brushes across my bare arms and face, carrying the faint smell of river water and musk. Everything feels calm, quiet, almost peaceful. Low, overlapping voices drift in from somewhere far off but the words don’t quite land. I know someone is calling my name. I’m not sure which one, or who, but the pull is there, familiar and warm. He’s calling me. My most precious thing is calling me.
I wake with a sharp gasp. A high-pitched ringing fills my ears. My chest rises and falls in quick, shallow bursts. My vision swims, everything blurred at the edges, but I can just make out a shape leaning over me. The pounding in my forehead eases bit by bit. A small cough rattles through me; my body jerks once, and the person beside me stirs awake.
I squeeze my eyes shut, count to ten in my head, then open them again. Scarlette’s face fills my view—beautiful, smiling, alive. Relief crashes over me so fast I try to lunge forward, wanting to tackle her and roll across the bed like we used to when we were younger. But something holds me back. I twist my head over my shoulder and see Apple sprawled behind me, fast asleep. Her leg is slung carelessly over my hips, one arm flung wide, mouth open and catching flies.
I let out a quiet giggle and turn back to Scarlette. Her eyes shine bright emerald again—no trace of black. Her skin glows warm and healthy, no grey pallor, no slimy scales. Her scarlet hair spills across the pillow in rich waves, vibrant and full of life. She looks even better than before, like the illness never touched her.
“You’re awake! You’re okay!” I says, voice hoarse but thick with joy.
She press her lips together. “I’ve been awake for two days now. You’ve been out for four,” she replies gently. A warm smile spreads across her face. She leans in and pulls me into a fierce hug, squeezing so tight I can hardly breathe. Love and lack of air mix in my chest. “Thank you, Sapphire. For saving my babies and me.”
I rest my forehead against her shoulder, breathing her in—sweet peas, rock rose, that faint hint of hawthorn only I can catch. “If you really wanted to thank me, you shouldn’t have forced my hand. You could have stopped it before it got this bad.”
“I couldn’t,” she says quietly. “My father told me the only way was to abort the babies. I couldn’t do it.”
“Babies?” I pull back gently, easing my face out of her chest. I look up at her, puzzled.
“I can only get pregnant once in my lifetime. It’ll always be twins. I don’t know the genders yet, but I know if I lose them, I’ll never carry my own children. Sapphire, being a mother—giving my babies the love I never got from my biological mother—is one of my biggest dreams. Especially with a mate like Cooper. I didn’t have the strength to end it, and I couldn’t ask you—the most precious person in my life—to risk everything for me. I knew you would do it without hesitation, but my sense of duty… I couldn’t put you in danger for something like this, so—”
“So you decided to die along with them, forgetting how that would destroy me?” I cut in, voice cold despite the tremor underneath.
She presses her lips together, guilt flashing across her face. She looks away for a second, eyes dropping to the sheets. “I—”
“Just be honest about it, Little Red,” Apple says through a wide yawn, drawing both our attention. She stretches lazily, joints popping, then props herself up on one elbow. “You did what you did knowing full well she’d save you. That way you could feel less guilty about making her risk her soul for you. You didn’t want to be selfish, but for once you wanted to make a selfish choice—for your babies—and you were sure Sapphire wouldn’t hate you for it. The only real problem would’ve been Hendrix, so you planned it so saving them became critical. Don’t lie to Sugar Blue. She might misunderstand.”
I stare at Scarlette, eyes wide. “You planned this?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Her fingers twist in the blanket, knuckles pale. The room stays quiet except for the soft rustle of sheets and the distant hum of pack life outside the window.
“You risked your life—and the babies’ lives—on a stupid plan?” My voice rises despite the exhaustion still clinging to me. “You almost died, Scarlette. You almost left Cooper, left me, left everything—for what? So you could feel like you didn’t force my hand?”
“I didn’t want to force you,” she whispers. “I wanted to protect you. I thought… if it looked bad enough, if it seemed like there was no other choice, you’d do it and I could tell myself it wasn’t my fault for asking. I know how much it costs you. I’ve seen what it does. But these babies… they’re my chance to be the mother I never had. I couldn’t give that up.”
I let out a shaky breath, anger and relief tangling together until I can’t separate them. “You’re an idiot. A brave, stubborn, selfish idiot. And I hate that I love you for it.”
Scarlette’s eyes fill with tears again. She reaches out and pulls me back into her arms, gentler this time. I let her, resting my cheek against her shoulder, feeling the steady beat of her heart under my ear.
My heart thuds unevenly in my chest, a quiet reminder of how close everything came to falling apart. The thought of what she pulled—what she almost let happen—stirs a slow burn of irritation under my ribs. “You are unbelievable,” I say, voice low but edged.
“I’m sorry,” she replies, the words quiet and genuine.
“You could have just asked. No matter what my mate thinks. You know I would have done it. I’d do it any time.”
“Don’t,” she says quickly. “Because you stand a chance of losing your soul. Or your powers. You don’t know how hard it was for me to make that decision. So please—never heal me again.”
Her voice stays steady, but coming from Scarlette—the girl who once abandoned her own mate bond to chase me into death, the one who always puts me ahead of everyone else—the words land heavy. I can picture the nights she must have spent turning it over in her head, weighing her babies against my safety, tearing herself in half to choose. It must have felt like ripping her own heart out to scheme instead of asking outright.
I could risk my life because I knew Persephone’s blessing would pull me back. This was only the third time I’d used that power; the cost wouldn’t be permanent. But deep down, if it had been a true life-or-death with no safety net, I’m not sure I’d have offered myself so easily. The first time took raw courage mixed with terror. Complete selflessness has never been my strong point.