Chapter 363 Loss
ADRIANA
Sunlight pierced through the curtains like an accusation, harsh and unwelcome. I groaned, pulling the duvet over my head, trying to recapture the fragments of sleep that had scattered during the night.
Elijah had kept me awake until the early hours, his voice a constant murmur in the darkness as he apologized, explained, and apologized again. My eyes felt swollen, my throat raw from the emotional marathon we'd run together.
A small hand shook my shoulder.
"Mama." Lorain's voice cut through the fog of exhaustion, urgent and insistent. "Mama, you need to wake up. Daddy's leaving."
I surfaced from beneath the covers, blinking against the brightness. My five-year-old daughter stood beside the bed, her dark hair tangled from sleep, her favorite stuffed rabbit clutched under one arm. She wore her nightgown still, feet bare on the hardwood floor, and her brown eyes—so like her father's—were wide with concern.
"What do you mean, leaving?" My voice came out rough, unused. I cleared my throat and pushed myself up on my elbows. "Where's he going?"
"Aunt Hazel said they have to go somewhere." Lorain climbed onto the bed, her small weight settling against my hip. "They were whispering in the hallway. I heard them say something about Uncle Roy."
My stomach twisted. Roy was Elijah's closest friend, his most trusted ally. If something had happened to Roy...
I threw off the covers, grabbing my robe from the chair where I'd discarded it hours before. The silk slipped over my shoulders as I tied the belt with shaking hands. "Did they say what time they'd be back?"
Lorain shook her head, her lower lip trembling. "They were getting in the car. Mama, is Uncle Roy okay?"
"I don't know, baby." I kissed her forehead, tasting the salt of sleep on her skin. "Stay here with Lana. I'll be right back."
I didn't wait for her response. I ran.
The hallway blurred past me, my bare feet slapping against the cool floors. I took the stairs two at a time, my heart hammering against my ribs with a premonition of disaster. The front door stood open, morning air rushing in, and through the gap I saw the black SUV idling in the driveway, exhaust curling in the crisp air.
"Elijah!" My voice cracked, too loud, desperate.
He was already at the car door, one hand on the handle, Hazel already settled in the passenger seat. He turned at my call, his face—oh God, his face.
I sprinted across the lawn, chilling my ankles. "Wait! What's happening? Is everyone okay?"
Elijah met me halfway, his hands coming up to grip my shoulders. His touch was firm, grounding, but his eyes were distant, already miles away. "Roy's wife passed away. We got the call twenty minutes ago." His voice was steady, but I heard the fracture beneath it. "We're going to him. I didn't want to wake you—you barely slept."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I swayed on my feet, and Elijah's grip tightened, holding me upright. Roy's wife. The woman I'd met at pack gatherings, who'd sent handwritten thank-you notes after dinner parties, who'd fought cancer with a grace that seemed almost supernatural. Gone.
"The cancer?" I whispered, though I already knew.
Elijah nodded, his jaw tight. "It spread faster than they expected. Last night, apparently. In her sleep." He glanced back at the car, where Hazel sat with her head bowed, hands clasped in her lap. "I have to go, Adriana. He shouldn't be alone right now."
"Go," I said immediately, pushing past the shock to find my voice. "I'll follow. I just need to—"
"Take your time." He kissed my forehead, a brush of lips that felt like goodbye. "The twins need to get to school. Lorain needs breakfast. We'll handle things here until you arrive."
He was already moving away, already retreating behind the walls he built when pain became too much to bear. I watched him fold himself into the driver's seat, watched the SUV reverse and pull away, tires crunching on gravel. I stood in the driveway in my robe, barefoot and shivering, long after the car had disappeared around the bend.
When I finally turned back to the house, I found tears streaming down my face.
I remembered her laugh—bright and musical, completely at odds with the chemotherapy tubes I'd seen trailing from her arm at the last pack gathering. The way she'd squeezed my hand and whispered that the wig didn't suit her, but her husband insisted she looked like a movie star. She'd been so alive, so determined to beat it. And now she was gone, leaving behind a husband who adored her and children who were too young to understand permanence.
I wiped my face with the sleeve of my robe, knowing I couldn't afford to fall apart. Not with three children who needed their mother present and accounted for.
The twins were already awake when I reached their room, their shared space a chaos of superhero posters and scattered Legos.
"Morning, Mama!" Liam launched himself at me, his small arms wrapping around my waist. "Can we have pancakes? Lorain said you're sad. Why are you sad?"
I forced a smile, smoothing his sleep-tousled hair. "I'm fine, baby. Just tired. And yes, pancakes sound perfect. Let's get you both dressed, the school bus comes in forty minutes."
Elijah Jr. studied me with those unnervingly perceptive eyes, the ones that reminded me so much of his father at that age. "Is it Uncle Roy?" he asked quietly. "Did something bad happen?"
The question caught me off guard. I opened my mouth to lie, to protect them, but the truth was already in my expression. "Uncle Roy needs our prayers right now," I said carefully. "But that's grown-up business. Your job is to eat breakfast and learn multiplication tables. Deal?"
They exchanged a look. Then Elijah Jr. nodded, accepting my deflection with a maturity that broke my heart a little. "Deal," he agreed.
I got them fed and dressed, my hands moving on autopilot while my mind raced across the miles to wherever Elijah and Hazel were driving. I checked my phone obsessively, but no messages appeared. I tried a mind link, reaching out through the bond, but hit only static. Elijah was either too focused on the road or too overwhelmed to receive me.