Chapter 60 Leave the room
~ Lyra's POV ~
“You don't want to know,” Taren said as he shook his head when I asked him about his first shift. His immediate refusal only made my curiosity grow stronger, especially since the thought had been lingering in my mind ever since the day I met Lunaris.
“Of course I want to know,” I replied quickly, refusing to let the matter drop. “I want to know when it happened and how it felt the first time.” I leaned in slightly, hoping my insistence would wear him down.
He hesitated, his expression thoughtful, as if weighing whether to indulge my curiosity or spare himself the memory. After a brief moment, he sighed and finally spoke, much to my relief.
“It is kind of embarrassing, but okay,” he said. “My first shift happened when I was seventeen.”
“Seventeen?” I echoed, surprised. “That is early. So what exactly is embarrassing about it? I thought the general age for the first shift was eighteen.” I fixed my full attention on him, genuinely interested. I might not have known much about werewolves, but I had heard enough to know the basics.
“Yeah, eighteen is the usual age,” he said. “But things have changed a lot. Hardly anyone shifts at eighteen anymore. All my friends and peers had their first shifts at fifteen, so I was actually late compared to them. Back then, it made me feel bad and insecure, like something was wrong with me.” A small, almost nostalgic smile settled on his lips as he recalled it.
I let out a soft laugh. “And here I am at twenty two, asking questions like a clueless child. I should probably hide my face or crawl into a hole.”
“There is no need for that,” he said gently. “Your case is different. I believe that if your wolf had not been suppressed, you would have been an early bloomer.”
I looked at him, unsure whether he was trying to comfort me or if he genuinely believed what he was saying. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” he replied with confidence. Almost immediately after, his expression shifted. The smile faded, replaced by a frown that confused me, and his gaze dropped to the floor.
“What is it?” I asked, concern creeping into my voice. “Why are you frowning?” One moment he had been reassuring me, and the next he looked troubled, as though something heavy had settled on his mind.
He did not answer right away. He stayed quiet for a few seconds, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, before finally lifting his eyes to meet mine again.
“Alpha just said I should bring you to the clinic,” he said.
“Huh?” I tilted my head, completely confused. Kael had told me not to leave the room, so the sudden change made no sense. “Why? Is something wrong? Is he hurt?” The questions tumbled out of me one after another as my thoughts immediately leapt to the worst possible conclusions.
“I don't know,” Taren admitted. “But he sounded urgent and serious.”
That was all it took. I stood up at once and slipped my feet into my flip flops, my heart already racing.
“Ready?” Taren asked when I turned back to look at him, mentally checking to be sure I did not need anything else.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Come with me,” he said, and I followed him out of the room.
Stepping into the corridor felt strange, almost foreign, but I did not dwell on it. My mind was too consumed by the fear that Kael might be hurt and in need of help.
The memory of my dream surfaced uninvited, tightening my chest. I wondered if that was what had happened. I hoped it was not, but I could not shake the possibility.
By the time we reached the clinic, Kael was already outside, waiting for us. At first glance, he looked fine. There were no visible wounds, no signs of physical injury, yet his expression was grave, heavy with something unspoken. Something was wrong. I could feel it.
“I remember you told me you are a healer, right?” Kael asked the moment we stopped in front of him.
“Yes,” I replied with a nod, searching his face for answers. He was taking too long to explain, and my unease grew with every second.
“Can you revive someone with severe injuries, someone who is already dying?” he asked.
In his eyes, I saw a vulnerability I had never seen before, and it unsettled me.
“I don't know unless I see the person,” I said honestly.
Without another word, he took my hand. “Come,” he said, leading me inside the clinic and down a hallway to a private ward.
Inside, I first noticed Dagan and several other werewolves standing around the room. Then my eyes fell on the figure lying on the bed. The elder was barely breathing, his life clearly slipping away. I moved closer, and even without touching him, I knew he would not survive without magical intervention. Even then, he was already far gone, and doubt crept into my heart.
“I don't know if I can do this,” I said quietly as I turned to Kael. “But I can try.”
“I am sorry for asking this of you,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “But it is the only option I have. He is very important to me.”
The pain in his voice and eyes struck something deep within me. I hated seeing him like that. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the hostile glares directed at me by some of the others, but I forced myself to ignore them and focus only on Kael and the elder.
“It is fine,” I said. “Let me try.”
I turned back to the elder and stretched my hand over him. Nothing happened. The crescent did not activate, which was strange, because it always responded when I needed to heal someone. I tried again, but still nothing. That was when I realized the problem.
I withdrew my hand and turned back to Kael. “I need everyone to leave the room,” I said. “You and Kaitlyn can stay.”
“What do you mean we should leave?” Dagan protested immediately. “What does that have to do with healing him?”
I turned to him without hesitation, meeting his gaze with fierce resolve. “You especially carry bad energy, and I cannot work with that kind of negativity around me. You need to leave.”
“Everyone out,” Kael ordered firmly. “Except you, Kaitlyn.”
One by one, they all left the room.
When the door finally closed behind them, I took a deep breath and turned my full attention back to the elder. This time, as I focused, the crescent finally activated.