Chapter 52
The room was dimly lit, just the pale glow of the moon slipping through the thin curtains. Rhianna sat on the edge of the bed, shaking slightly, a small pile of pills clutched in her trembling hand. She stared at them like they held the answer to all her problems — or the escape from them. Her wolf stirred faintly, restless and anxious, whispering worry in her mind. She felt dizzy, her heart thumping irregularly, skipping beats that made her chest ache.
“Rhianna…” The deep, low voice made her jump. Hardin was standing at the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp and unreadable. She had thought she was alone, thought she could manage this on her own. She hadn’t counted on him.
“I… I can’t—” she started, her voice barely above a whisper. She swallowed hard, the pills rattling softly in her hand. “I can’t keep feeling like this. I need—maybe I need… double the dosage. Maybe then…” Her words faltered, and she trailed off, tears threatening to spill.
Hardin moved forward, slow and deliberate. He perched on the edge of the bed beside her, his gaze firm, unwavering. “Rhianna, stop,” he said gently, though there was an edge beneath his calm. “Give me the pills.”
She shook her head violently. “No! You don’t understand. You haven’t been here. You haven’t seen what it’s like. You—everyone—thinks I’m fine, but I’m not!”
His hand reached for hers, covering it, steadying it. “I know you’re not fine,” he said softly. “I know exactly how fragile you are. And do you know why I haven’t been visiting?” His voice lowered, tinged with something she couldn’t name — anger, sorrow, frustration. “Because I was afraid of what I’d do if I saw you like this.”
Her eyes widened. “Afraid? Afraid of me? Hardin…” Her voice broke. “You’re supposed to protect me. You—” She choked on the words, shaking her head. “You’re supposed to be here. Always.”
“I am here,” he whispered, leaning closer. His warm breath brushed her hair as his hand gently closed over hers, squeezing it lightly. “And I’m not going anywhere. But you can’t do this to yourself. You can’t push your wolf, push your heart, push your body, until it’s breaking you from the inside. I won’t let you.”
“I’m… I’m losing it,” she admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I feel like I’m slipping, like everything I’ve held onto… it’s fading. The pills… maybe they’re the only thing keeping me sane, keeping me awake. But it’s not enough anymore.”
Hardin’s jaw tightened, his golden eyes shadowed with something fierce. “Rhianna, listen to me. Those pills — whatever they are — they aren’t going to fix what’s happening to you. They might numb it for a little while, but they’re hurting you, making it worse. You’re already at the edge. One more mistake and…” His voice broke off, but she could feel the weight of his words pressing down on her chest.
Her fingers trembled as she clutched the pills tighter. “I… I can’t stop. I feel like I’m… I’m going crazy, Hardin. I don’t… I don’t know how else to… to stay in control.”
His other hand came up, cupping her cheek gently. “You’re not losing control, Rhianna,” he said, his voice low, intimate, almost a growl. “You’re scared. And you’re hurting. And I… I can’t stand watching you destroy yourself, not like this. I won’t let you.”
Her lips parted, eyes glistening. “Then… why haven’t you… why haven’t you been here? I… I thought you didn’t care. That maybe… maybe it was easier for you to just stay away.”
He leaned closer, his forehead resting lightly against hers. “Do you think I could stay away if I truly didn’t care?” His voice dropped, raw and unguarded. “Do you think I could walk past your pain without trying to stop it? Rhianna… you’re everything to me. And I can’t let you do this to yourself. Not while I’m breathing, not while I can do something about it.”
She trembled under his touch, her lips parting as if to speak, to ask, to beg… but he pressed his lips to hers before she could utter a word. The kiss wasn’t soft, it wasn’t tentative. It was raw, protective, and intimate — a desperate claim, a tether to reality. Her body went rigid, then relaxed into him, but she didn’t respond, didn’t speak, didn’t even breathe fully. She just let herself be held.
When he pulled back slightly, his forehead still resting against hers, his eyes bore into hers. “I’m not going to use you,” he murmured. “Not like this. Not while you’re like this. But you need me. You need to be here, alive, whole, not chasing a high that’s killing you.”
Tears slid down her cheeks, hot and trembling. “I… I don’t know if I can,” she whispered. “It feels… it feels like I’m already gone. Like I’m already… slipping.”
Hardin’s grip tightened, firm and unwavering. “You’re not gone,” he said fiercely. “I won’t let you be gone. I’ll be here. Every step. Every heartbeat. I’ll keep you grounded, Rhianna. I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure you stay alive. But you have to trust me. You have to let me in. No pills, no shortcuts, no pretending you’re fine when you’re not.”
She buried her face in his chest, sobbing softly, the pills forgotten in her hand. Her wolf whined faintly, curling into her like a frail shadow. And for the first time in what felt like months, she felt herself anchored, held by someone who wasn’t asking her to be strong — only asking her to live.
Hardin held her until she slept, her breath evening out, her body finally letting go. And as he watched her, guilt and fury and love all warred inside him, he thought: What is happening to her? What is wrong with her? Why does she keep on speaking like she's hiding something?
He stayed by her side until the first light of dawn, and the questions lingered, unanswered, as the house remained silent around them.