Chapter 87
ELARA'S POV
The guilt tore at me, like an unyielding, gnawing pain deep in my gut. Those abducted wolves, snatched from their sleep, their fates now uncertain, plagued my every waking moment and invaded my nightmares. It was all because of me. Every last one of them. I'd been too absorbed in my own troubles.
Whenever I shut my eyes, I envisioned their terrified expressions, heard their frantic pleas. Their dread, their horror. How must they have felt? Where were they at this moment? What would become of them? Would they be tortured? Or slain? Intimidated?
Regret tasted like a sharp, acidic residue that clung to my palate, a persistent echo of my shortcomings. I should have handled things differently.
I sought refuge in the library, hoping for comfort amid the shelves. I wanted to lose myself in a book, to find tranquility in the library's serene hush. Yet even there, enveloped by the quiet stillness and the soothing aroma of aged pages and leather bindings, the shadows couldn't be fully dispelled. I settled into an armchair, the burden of my anguish weighing heavily upon me.
The vision of the slumbering wolves, their serene repose shattered, their security breached, replayed endlessly in my mind.
I glanced down at my swelling belly, which was becoming increasingly hard to conceal. Fortunately, no one except Kael and Clara knew or even suspected. I dressed in oversized garments and kept to indoor spaces or areas shielded from curious glances.
The massive door groaned open, pulling me from my reverie. I lifted my head sharply, and there was Ronan.
My heart, already weary and wounded, stuttered in my chest. He'd picked up on my distress, I could tell. He always did.
His expression softened as our gazes locked, a sigh escaped me, and I managed a tired smile. He approached with purposeful steps.
"Hey." He extended a hand, placing it lightly on my shoulder. That simple contact flooded me with a soothing warmth, like a salve for my turbulent feelings.
I wasn't sure what to say or do. Words felt inadequate, unable to capture the extent of my grief. But even though I wanted to keep my distance to spare him from my turmoil.
I craved connection. I needed to feel secure, to be embraced, even if just briefly.
Without pausing to think, almost instinctively, I encircled his waist with my arms, pressing my face into his chest. I wept softly, my tears dampening his shirt, each heave easing the oppressive pressure that had accumulated inside me.
He exhaled deeply, a sound rich with empathy. He didn't probe or demand explanations. He just rested his chin atop my head and started to tenderly stroke my hair, a gentle, steady motion that brought solace.
"Everything will turn out fine," he whispered, his voice a deep, reassuring vibration near my ear.
I only wished that were the case.
I truly did.
~
The following day, the sun stretched long shadows over the Pack Grounds, tinting the well-known scenery in shades of gold and amber. Liam, my protector, had warned me against straying too far, and I'd vowed to remain nearby, awaiting his completion of tasks before he accompanied me on my stroll. Clara, sadly, had taken ill and was recuperating in the infirmary.
Clara and I had argued the previous evening due to my withdrawn and aloof demeanor. I hadn't realized she was unwell until she started coughing and fainted before my eyes.
My shoulders drooped as I recalled the incident. Needing to refresh my thoughts, I opted for a brief walk, adhering to Liam's advice by staying on the familiar trails of the pack. It was my sole source of peace.
I gently patted my belly, gazing down at it. I just hoped that by the time you were prepared to enter the world, this turmoil would have subsided.
Abruptly, a sound startled me. A wail, faint and shrill, pierced the air. Initially, I attempted to dismiss it, convincing myself it was merely the breeze or a frightened creature.
But the cries intensified, becoming more urgent, stirring something profound within me. They had a lupine quality—I hesitated. Liam had been explicit with his directives. Yet the sound, brimming with such raw anguish, was impossible to overlook. It resonated with me on a visceral level, tugging at my heartstrings.
I couldn't simply ignore it. It might be someone in peril—or. I halted as I considered the dire possibilities.
A kidnapping?
I dismissed the thought with a shake of my head and strayed from the trail, pursuing the noise as it reverberated among the trees. The cries guided me to the border of the territory, close to the ancient hunting areas.
There, amid a tangle of spiny shrubs, I discovered the origin of the disturbance. A juvenile wolf, scarcely more than a pup, was ensnared in a corroded wire trap. Its leg was trapped, its eyes bulging with panic.
My breath caught as I examined the wound, blood flowing freely from it. I'd encountered such devices before, meant to cripple and harm trespassers.
I pondered why such a young wolf had ventured to this spot.
Without delay, I dropped to my knees. "It's alright..." I murmured soothingly, my tone soft, aiming to pacify the creature.
Cautiously, I extended my hand to dislodge the trap. The jagged metal prongs sliced into my fingers, eliciting blood. I winced in agony and retracted my hand. But the view of the wounded wolf, its eyes brimming with such poignant dread, strengthened my determination.
The cuts on my hands sealed swiftly, reminding me instantly that I possessed healing abilities while the wolf did not.
Inhaling deeply, I pried the trap's wires apart and shoved them aside, finally liberating the ensnared wolf.
As the little wolf shuddered in fright and agony, attempting to flee but unable, I hurried closer, intent on assisting. I had to tend to its injury, using my blood to facilitate recovery.
"There, there," I murmured gently, my voice calm and comforting. "It's okay; I won't harm you."
Instead, the wolf retreated hastily, cowering from me in terror. The abrupt motion caught me off guard.
Then the wolf's eyes expanded, shifting upward beyond my head. I traced its stare, gradually turning.
A gasp slipped from me as I spotted a masked individual looming over me. In his grasp was a sack. Before I could utter a scream or respond, a hand covered my mouth, muting my outcry.
I struggled to break free or resist his hold, but my power paled in comparison to his. "Sleep well now," a voice, icy and emotionless, hissed in my ear. And then, the surroundings spun, plunging me into a profound, void slumber.