Chapter 104 104
LOIS
The world is dark, heavy—a silver forest that suffocates me. Tall trees glow, their golden leaves falling slowly, but they never touch the ground. I’m bound, ropes cutting into me, and blood flows, dripping into vials that shine red. Voices whisper, a chant that burns, and shadows move—twenty figures, their violet, gray, green eyes piercing me. I want to scream, but my voice won’t come. Aidan, I think, and his face appears, burning, his dark eyes searching for me. But he’s not here. I’m alone, and the blood keeps falling, carrying me with it.
I wake with a gasp, chest rising fast, air slicing my throat. Everything hurts. My body is dead weight, arms heavy, and I feel things stuck to me—tubes, wires, a machine beeping beside me. I’m in a bed, a white, cold room, the smell of metal and blood filling my nose. My heart pounds too hard, too loud, and my voice comes out weak, broken.
“Aidan…” I whisper, and tears burn my eyes.
I open my eyes—blurry—and see them. Ezequiel and Emmanuel, standing by the bed, faces hard but eyes shining with something I recognize as fear. Fear of losing me.
The last thing I want is to worry them… But I don’t escape one problem just to dive into another, and when I thought I’d finally be far away and safe, that’s when I was at my worst.
I only cause them trouble, and I keep proving it more and more.
Emmanuel is closer, fists clenched; Ezequiel behind him, hair disheveled, gaze fixed on me. I cry, hot tears streaming down my cheeks, body trembling—weak, barely mine.
“Where’s Aidan?” I ask, voice cracking, barely a breath.
Seeing the two of them and not seeing him… it hurts. It hurts so much. His pain, my pain, this damn connection that makes us all so vulnerable.
They glance at each other—just a second—and the silence cuts deeper than the tubes in my arms. Emmanuel looks down, shoulders tensing; Ezequiel crosses his arms, face hardening.
“It’s better not to mention him, Lois,” Emmanuel says, voice low and firm. “He’s still a fugitive. It’s not safe. We can’t be linked to him—too many people are looking, and right now we can’t do anything.”
“No!” I try to shout, but it comes out a whimper, and I cry harder, chest squeezing. “Where is he? Please, tell me!”
The tears won’t stop, my body shaking, monitors beeping faster—a noise drilling into my head. Aidan. I need him. I feel him—far away, but alive—an echo pulling at me even though I can’t see him. They don’t understand. They don’t know what he means, what we are. My hand rises, weak, searching, but falls, and I sob louder, voice shattering.
What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with him?
He’s alone. He’s so alone.
“We have to find him!” I beg, looking at them, eyes blurred. “Please—Aidan!”
Pain hits me—a fire rising in my chest—and my breathing cuts short, fast, shallow. The monitors shriek, filling the room, and Emmanuel steps toward me, eyes widening in alarm. Ezequiel growls, body tensing, and the door flies open—a doctor rushing in, white coat flapping.
“Out—now!” the doctor shouts, shoving Emmanuel, raising a syringe.
Ezequiel roars—a sound that shakes the walls—and shoves the doctor hard—too hard. The man flies, crashing against the wall, body crumpling unconscious, floor trembling from the impact. Then she enters… their mother, Morgana, green eyes flashing with urgency, and I feel guilt in them—but I don’t know if it’s toward me or herself.
“Ezequiel, Emmanuel—enough!” she shouts, voice slicing through the chaos, and rushes to the intercom, calling another doctor.
She tries to approach, hands raised to calm them, but Emmanuel growls, stepping toward the bed, and Ezequiel looks at me, eyes trembling. They can’t control it. Neither can I. The pain burns, chest tightening, vision blurring—black edges growing. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.
“Lois!” Ezequiel shouts, leaping onto the bed, hands gripping my arms—strong, desperate. “Lois, Lois. Breathe… Breathe!”
His fingers dig in, and I open my eyes, searching for air—but none comes. My body convulses, a spasm I can’t control, and I look at him—his eyes full of something I’ve seen before, stronger now, even bigger. Fear. Ezequiel—the strong one, the one who never falls—is broken, face pale as he holds me.
I’m the one to blame, damn it—I’m the one to blame!
My gaze shifts to Emmanuel, standing by the bed, hands shaking, eyes locked on me, and I want to speak, want to say I’m sorry—but I can’t.
Ezequiel collapses, body sliding to the side of the bed, hands releasing me, a low, broken moan escaping his throat. I watch him fall, head hitting the edge, and my heart squeezes—a pain that isn’t physical. My eyes meet Emmanuel’s for an instant—his shining with tears that don’t fall—and then everything goes dark. The room fades, the beeping disappears, and I fall again, darkness swallowing me like the forest in my nightmare.
“Don’t take Lois. Please. Don’t leave me without her. She’s my home. She’s my only home.” Aidan’s voice drags me—I’m in the middle of nowhere, but I can’t reach him.
He needs me. I feel my legs start to run toward his voice, but the steps are endless, leading nowhere, never closer to him.
He needs me—I know it, I feel it—he can’t control it, and neither can I.
“She’s my home, she’s my home.”
“I’m here, Aidan. I’m here!” I want to find him, tell him I haven’t gone anywhere, but I can’t even see him… I can only hear that sad tone in his voice, imagining his lost expression… while we left him behind.
We left him behind.
“No! Aidan!” I scream again, but now my eyes snap open—several hands holding me down as my body jerks violently, uncontrollably. I see Emmanuel and Ezequiel’s father trying to restrain them by the door while doctors try to do their job. Their gazes meet mine and suddenly they calm.
I calm them.
I can’t subject them to this—I can’t share Aidan’s slow agony with them—so I keep it to myself. Maybe to protect them, or maybe to punish myself for causing all of this. I tried to run away, but I didn’t even do that right.
Shit.
My body stills and the room quiets—no more chaos from minutes ago.
“It could be an adverse reaction to the blood,” their mother says. Blood? They gave me blood? My eyes dart everywhere, though my body no longer moves. “It would be easier for the doctors to work without you two standing here with threatening looks. Step out into the hallway for a moment—she’s stable now,” Morgana says.
I watch their shoulders relax and they back away until they’re outside the door. It closes slowly, and now it’s just us here. Morgana approaches and places a hand on my forehead. For some reason, my eyes can’t meet hers—I feel ashamed to look at her.
“Does anything hurt?” the doctor asks.
“N-No. I don’t think so,” I answer.
My body suddenly goes cold and I’m afraid—at the same time I feel tense.
Aidan is in danger.
“Aidan, Aidan, where are you?”
“It’s Enzo. He’s found me again.”