Chapter 63 CHAPTER 63
Sebastian had barely left his bed for three days. The first morning he’d woken with a fever burning through his skin, convinced the cold night in the woods had finally caught up with him. He dismissed it as flu, a little inconvenience, nothing more. But each sunrise seemed to hollow him out a little more. His limbs felt heavy, his breaths shallow, and sleep clung to him like a second skin.
Lydia stepped into his room carrying a steaming bowl of broth. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in a thin slice of gray light that barely touched his pale face. He was sitting upright against his pillows, but his eyes were half-closed, drifting in and out of exhaustion.
“Sebastian,” she said gently, brushing his hair from his forehead, “at least try to drink some.”
“I’m not hungry,” he murmured, voice weak and raspy.
“You don’t have to be hungry to take a few spoonfuls,” she insisted softly. “Just humor your mother.”
He gave a tired sigh, the kind of surrender he’d given her since he was a boy, and she fed him slowly, though each swallow seemed to cost him effort. When he turned his face away after the third spoon, she didn’t force him. She simply set the bowl on his bedside table and smoothed the blanket over his chest.
“You need rest,” she whispered. “I’ll come back later.”
But as she left the room, her heart felt like sand slipping through her hands.
She closed the door quietly and headed down the stairs. The house smelled of soup and damp worry. Outside, she found Richard in the backyard, pushing the mower across the lawn in steady, tense lines. He turned when he heard the door click behind her.
“How is he?” he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Not good,” she answered, and her voice thinned. “He’s getting weaker, Richard. Every day he’s losing something, like something inside him is… draining. And the frustrating part is, we don't know how to stop it.”
He set his jaw. “It’s just the flu.” He knew it wasn't the flu but he didn’t dare tell his wife that. He didn't want to make her worried. She knew how paranoid she could get when it came to her pups. But she was not buying any of his explanations either.
She shook her head. “No. This isn't the flu. I’m his mother - I know when something is wrong. This is different. He doesn’t even know what’s happening to him.”
“Did you tell him that?” Richard asked sharply.
“No,” she snapped, then softened. “What good would it do? He’ll only panic. And he doesn’t need more fear eating at him.”
Richard leaned against the mower, his shoulders sagging beneath the weight of unspoken truths.
“Please, Richard,” Lydia whispered. “You have to help our son. Whatever that Hale girl did to him… we need to make sure the bond is completely broken.”
Richard let out a bitter breath. “I don’t understand it. I’ve never seen a mate bond behave like this. Where did those damn Hales even find that child? She was trouble from the start. I shouldn't have let a stray into my pack without alerting the king. But Cedric convinced me to keep it a secret. Said it might be of benefit to the pack in future. Curse him for putting me in such a situation.”
Lydia folded her arms, squeezing them tight across her chest. “Have you heard anything about her? Did your people find anything? The guard you sent out to look for her.”
He shook his head. “They’ve checked every pack within our borders. No one has seen or heard of such a girl. It’s like she vanished.”
“Then ask the king’s commander,” Lydia urged, stepping closer. “Liam likes us. He even spent the night in our home. If we tell him what’s happening to Sebastian, maybe he can help us look for her. He has the king’s resources. He could find her faster.”
Richard stared at her, eyes darkening. “And tell him what, Lydia? That I’ve been harboring an unregistered child for years? That I never reported her? That I lied to the king’s men? Do you want your husband dead woman?”
“But this is our son!” Lydia cried. “He’s dying, Richard. You and I both know it. If that girl is doing something to him from wherever she is, then we need someone stronger than us to stop it.”
Richard looked away, as if the garden itself might offer answers. But all he saw were blades of grass bending beneath the wind.
“I don’t know…” he muttered.
“Then figure it out,” she whispered. “Because Sebastian is slipping away.”
The words fell between them like stones, heavy and undeniable.
Inside his room, Sebastian lay curled under his blanket, eyelids fluttering as though his dreams were tugging him down into a dark river. Sweat clung to his skin. His breath was weak. He’d never known what it felt like to be sick - not truly. His wolf had always been too strong, too vigilant, healing everything before sickness ever had the chance to reach him. His mother used to boast that not even a cold could touch her boy.
But today, his bones felt hollow. His muscles trembled. Something was wrong inside him, something deeper than fever.
He closed his eyes and reached inward.
Kael?
His voice echoed into the space within him where his wolf usually stirred like a restless fire.
Silence.
He tried again, pushing harder. Kael, talk to me. What’s happening? Why am I not healing?
Still nothing.
Panic prickled up his spine. It felt like screaming into an empty room.
Come on, he whispered desperately in his mind. If you’re angry with me about Cindy, then just say it. Don’t do this. Don’t disappear on me. Please answer me.
More silence. Not even a growl. Not even a flicker of presence.
The bond that had always pulsed warm and steady inside him suddenly felt like cold air.
Sebastian’s breath hitched. His heart pounded so hard it hurt. His hands shook as he gripped the sheets, terror crawling into every corner of him.
What if Kael had left him?
What if this weakness eating him alive was Kael abandoning him - punishing him for abandoning their mate?
“No…” Sebastian whispered aloud, voice cracking. “Kael, don’t do this… come back. Please come back.”
But the emptiness answered him, heavy and suffocating.