chapter 198 Treatment

chapter 198 Treatment
Lyra's POV

The Shadow Pack laboratory was hidden deep within the coastal caves that had once been my family's territory. Joey and I made the five-hour drive from Silver Moon territory in relative silence, both of us focused on the work ahead.

For the next two months, Joey and I threw ourselves into the research with desperate intensity. We analyzed my parents' notes, cross-referenced ancient texts, and developed prototype after prototype of potential remedies.

Every few days, I would send a new version back to Silver Moon territory with detailed instructions for administration. Marcus would oversee the treatments, monitoring Dorian's vital signs and documenting any changes, however small.

The results were always the same. No improvement.

Halfway through the second month, I couldn't stand the distance anymore. I drove back to Silver Moon territory, carrying the most promising version yet, determined to try something different.

I found Dorian exactly as I'd left him. Pale, still, breathing steadily but showing no signs of consciousness. The sight of him broke my heart all over again.

"I brought something new," I told Joey, showing her the vials I'd prepared. "But this time, I want to try the lunar ritual as well."

Joey's eyes widened. "The one from the ancient texts?"

"According to The Codex of Lunar Remedies, the ritual can help strengthen the connection between a werewolf's human and wolf nature. Combined with the antidote, it might be enough to break through whatever is holding him trapped."

That night, under the full moon, we carried Dorian to the moon stone circle in the heart of Silver Moon Pack territory.

I administered the new antidote first, then began the ritual as described in the ancient text. The words were in an archaic dialect, difficult to pronounce, but I'd practiced them countless times.

As I chanted, something extraordinary began to happen. Dorian's body started to shift slightly, caught between human and wolf form. A soft, silvery light emanated from his skin, growing brighter with each word I spoke.

My heart pounded with hope.

But as the ritual reached its climax, as the moon reached its zenith, the light began to fade. Dorian's body settled back into its human form, and when I checked his pulse, nothing had changed.

He remained unconscious, as still and unreachable as before.

We were so close, my wolf whimpered. I could feel him there, just beyond our reach.

I collapsed beside him in the stone circle, sobbing with frustration and exhaustion. We'd tried everything. Ancient rituals, modern medicine, combinations of both. Nothing worked.

The drive back to the medical center felt longer than ever. I found myself thinking about Dorian's promises, spoken during those precious moments when he'd held me close and painted pictures of our future together.

"I'm going to get back to health, and then mark you officially. I want you to be my Luna. No more trial periods, no more uncertainty."

"There will be children playing in pack territories that have been battlefields for centuries. Markets will flourish in towns that have been empty for generations. Our people will thrive, Lyra. They'll have time to dream again."

"And we'll have our own little family. When our second baby is born, Elena will be the best big sister. And in a couple of years, maybe we'll have a third. Maybe five. I want our house to be full of laughter and chaos."

"I look forward to growing old with you. Watching you age gracefully beside me. I want to hold your hand when we're both gray and slow, still just as in love as we are right now."

Some of those dreams were already coming true. The werewolf territories were indeed at peace. Trade was flourishing between packs that had been enemies for generations. Children were growing up without fear of war.

But the personal promises, the ones that mattered most to my heart, remained unfulfilled.

Dorian had never marked me officially. He wasn't healthy. Our family remained incomplete, held in suspension by his unconscious state.

I made my way to Dorian's room at the medical center, my swollen belly making each step an effort. He looked exactly as he had for months now. Peaceful, handsome, completely absent.

Unable to control my emotions any longer, I climbed carefully onto the bed and lay down on top of him, pressing my face against his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath my cheek, strong and regular, but he might as well have been a thousand miles away.

"Wake up," I sobbed against his shirt. "Please, Dorian, just wake up. Our baby is coming, and Elena needs her father, and I need my mate. I need you to keep your promises."

The tears came in great, wrenching sobs that shook my entire body. "You said you'd mark me. You said we'd have a houseful of children. You said we'd grow old together. How can any of that happen if you won't come back to me?"

I cried until my throat was raw and my eyes burned.

Finally, exhausted and emotionally drained, I pushed myself up to look at his face one more time before leaving.

As I studied his features, memorizing them as if I might forget, I could have sworn I saw his eyelashes flutter slightly. Just the tiniest movement, barely perceptible.

I held my breath, watching intently, but there was nothing more. His face remained as peaceful and still as ever.

Just imagination.

I arranged for the night nurse to stay with him, giving her detailed instructions about monitoring his condition. Then I made my way slowly back to the parking garage.

The five-hour drive to the Shadow Pack laboratory stretched ahead of me. There was still work to be done, research to continue, hope to maintain even when it felt impossible.