Chapter 98 DISCOMFORT
Kael is still smiling politely at guests when Adam’s fingers begin to tremble in his hand.
He’s in the middle of a conversation with two guest Alphas, nodding at the right moments, answering with calm words that carry weight. His posture is relaxed, shoulders loose, expression open. To anyone watching, he looks fully present.
But he does feel Adam's sudden discomfort.
Adam’s grip changes: tightens. Then loosens. Tightens again, like he’s holding on to something slippery.
Kael tilts his head slightly, eyes flicking down.
Adam’s face has gone pale. Not the soft glow from earlier, not the wonder-struck joy from the shows. This is different. His lips are parted, breath shallow. His eyes are unfocused, darting from sound to sound like he’s trapped in a room that’s shrinking.
“Adam,” Kael murmurs, low enough that only he can hear. “Look at me.”
Adam tries.
“Do you want to go inside?” Kael asks, but Adam shakes his head and manages a smile.
The music swells again. Laughter bursts too close. Someone brushes past them, the scent of wine and smoke clinging heavy in the air.
Adam swallows hard.
The air presses against his chest, thick and heavy, like breathing through cloth. His heartbeat stutters, then races. Too fast, too loud. Every sound blends together— voices, drums, fire cracking— until it’s just noise, endless and crushing.
He tells himself to focus on something else, anything other than himself.
He stares at the torches. Counts them. One. Two. Three.
His vision blurs.
He forces another breath. It doesn’t go all the way in.
“Don’t panic. Don’t panic.” He mutters to himself.
He feels sweat break out along his spine. His legs feel weak, like the ground might tilt and drop him any second.
Kael is still talking, but his voice feels far away to Adam now, like it’s coming from underwater.
Adam turns his head, desperate for something familiar.
That’s when he sees Sara.
She’s near the edge of the square, taking a drink from a server. Her shoulders are tense, jaw tight. She downs the drink quickly, hands the cup back, and then— without looking around— she turns and walks out of the square, slipping into the darker field beyond the lights.
Adam’s chest tightens.
She looks overwhelmed too.
He squeezes Kael’s hand once, a reflex, then pulls free.
Kael feels it instantly.
He breaks eye contact with the Alpha mid-sentence. His head snaps toward Adam just as Adam steps back, already turning away.
“Adam,” Kael says, sharper now.
Adam doesn’t answer.
Kael lifts two fingers subtly, not breaking his calm expression. A guard across the field notices at once and shifts position, eyes tracking Adam’s retreat.
Adam walks fast, then faster.
The noise fades behind him with each step. The drums become distant. The firelight dulls. The open field stretches ahead, darker, quieter, grass cool under his shoes.
He scans the area.
“Sara?” he calls softly.
No answer.
“Mom.” Still no answer.
He moves deeper into the field, heart still racing but breath slowly evening out as the night air brushes his skin. It smells like grass and earth and something faintly sweet. The moon hangs high above, silver and steady.
He paused...
Closes his eyes and inhales.
This time, the breath goes all the way in.
His shoulders drop a little.
“Okay,” he whispers to himself. “Okay.”
He opens his eyes again, scanning for Sara.
She’s not there.
Maybe she went further. Maybe she needed space too.
Adam takes a few more steps.
That’s when weakness hits him.
It comes suddenly, like someone cut a string inside him. His knees wobble. His vision swims, edges darkening. He reaches out instinctively, fingers curling around empty air.
“What…?” he breathes.
His head feels light. Too light. His limbs are heavy and unresponsive.
He doesn’t hear the footsteps behind him before a hand clamps over his mouth.
Hard.
Adam gasps, the sound swallowed instantly. His body jerks, panic flaring white-hot as he tries to twist away. The grip is strong, unyielding, arm locking around his chest from behind.
He struggles.
A sharp sting bites into the side of his neck.
His breath hitches as a needle slides out smoothly.
“No,” he tries to say, but it comes out muffled, weak.
The world tilts.
The moon smears into light. The field spins. His thoughts scatter, slipping through his fingers like water.
His body goes slack.
The hand over his mouth holds until his weight fully gives in.
Then he’s lowered to the ground with practiced ease.
Darkness takes him completely.
Moments later, a figure drags his limp body toward the deeper shadows, moving fast, careful to stay beyond the reach of the festival lights.
The grass whispers softly as they disappear.
Back in the square, laughter erupts at something the MC says. Cups clink. Music swells again.
Kael turns fully now, unease sharp
in his eyes.
Adam is gone.
The guard reaches the edge of the field seconds later, breath quick, scanning the darkness.
Too late.