Chapter 11 The Dangerous Truth

Chapter 11 The Dangerous Truth
Clara's POV

I take three books from Kael's study when I leave. He doesn't stop me. Just watches with those sad silver eyes as I walk out with my stolen knowledge.

Back in my room, I spread the books across the bed. One is about wolf bonds. Another talks about ancient curses. The third is older than the others, its pages yellow and brittle like they might crumble if I'm not careful.

"The Arden Prophecy: A Complete History."

I open it slowly, and a piece of paper falls out. It's Kael's handwriting. I recognize it from the journals in his study.

My hands shake as I pick it up and read.

"The prophecy states: A human woman will come who can heal the cursed Alpha. Her touch will close his wounds and strengthen his power. But the healing comes at a cost. For every life she gives, she loses part of her own. The bond will consume her slowly, burning through her human life force until nothing remains."

I read it again. Then again. The words don't change.

For every life she gives, she loses part of her own.

My mind flashes back to that night in the alley. How my touch healed Kael's impossible wounds. How the bond flared between us like fire.

I gave him life. And according to this, it cost me part of mine.

I flip through the book, finding the section about the prophecy. It's worse than Kael's notes. Much worse.

The ancient text describes how the curse works. The human woman becomes a living battery, her life force feeding the Alpha's power. Every time he's injured, every time he draws on the bond's strength, it drains her a little more.

The book estimates she has maybe six months. A year at most if she's strong.

Then she dies.

Just like Catherine. Like Maria. Like Jessica.

They didn't die from random bad luck or weak constitutions. They died because the bond literally ate them alive from the inside.

And Kael knew.

He knew this whole time.

Rage builds in my chest, hot and fierce. I gather the books and storm out of the guest wing. I don't care who sees me. Don't care about pack politics or proper behavior.

I march straight to the east wing where Kael's private rooms are. His door is closed but I don't bother knocking. I just push it open and walk right in.

He's sitting on his bed, head in his hands. He looks up when I enter, and guilt flashes across his face.

"You knew." My voice comes out cold. Flat. "You knew this whole time that healing you would kill me."

He stands slowly. "Clara…"

"Don't." I throw the book at him. He catches it easily, but I see him flinch when he recognizes it. "You let me touch you that night. You let the bond form. And you knew exactly what it would do to me."

"I tried to stop you," he says quietly. "I told you to leave. I growled at you, tried to scare you away."

"Not hard enough!" My voice breaks. "You should have told me the truth. You should have explained what would happen."

"Would you have believed me?" He sets the book down carefully on his nightstand. "Would you have listened to a bleeding stranger talking about curses and prophecies?"

He has a point, but I'm too angry to admit it.

"What about after?" I demand. "What about when you brought me here? When we…" Heat floods my face. "You had plenty of chances to tell me."

"I know." The pain in his voice almost makes me soften. Almost. "And I'm sorry. But Clara, if I'd told you, you would have run."

"Of course I would have run! Who wants to stay in a relationship that's literally killing them?"

"Exactly." He takes a step toward me, then stops like he's afraid to get too close. "And I... I couldn't let you go. Not yet. I told myself I was protecting you by keeping you here until we found a way to break the bond safely. But the truth is, I was selfish. I wanted more time with you before..."

"Before I died?" The words taste bitter.

"Before I had to let you go." His eyes shine with unshed tears. "Every moment with you felt like a gift I didn't deserve. I know it was wrong to keep the truth from you. I know I should have been stronger. But Clara, you made me feel alive for the first time in my life. And I wasn't ready to give that up."

The honest pain in his voice makes my anger waver. But I'm not ready to forgive him yet.

"Those other women," I say. "Catherine, Maria, Jessica. Did they know? Did you tell them about the prophecy?"

"No." Shame colors his face. "By the time I understood what was happening to them, it was too late. I didn't make the connection until Jessica. Didn't realize the bond itself was the weapon."

"And then I came along."

"And then you came along." He runs his hands through his hair. "The first woman in three hundred years who could complete the bond. The key to breaking my family's curse. And also my certain death sentence."

"My death sentence," I correct him. "You're not the one dying here."

"Aren't I?" His laugh is bitter. "Clara, watching you waste away will destroy me just as surely as any blade. The only difference is I'll have to keep living after you're gone."

We stand there in silence, the weight of truth heavy between us.

"How long?" I ask finally. "How long do I have?"

"The book estimates six months to a year. But that's if the bond stays active, if I keep drawing on it." He looks at me desperately. "That's why I've been researching. If we can break the bond cleanly, sever the connection before it drains you completely, you might survive."

"Might?"

"The process of breaking a formed bond is dangerous. But it's better odds than leaving things as they are."

I sink into the chair by his window, suddenly exhausted. "So my choices are: die slowly from the bond, or die quickly trying to break it?"

"Or leave." He kneels in front of me, not touching but close enough that I can feel his warmth. "You could go back to your human life right now. Stop touching me, stop strengthening the bond. It might be weak enough that it would fade on its own."

"Might?"

"I don't know for sure," he admits. "No one's ever tried to just... walk away before. But it's possible. You could go back to your clinic, your apartment, your normal life."

I think about my old life. My small apartment with its leaky faucet. My patients who trusted me. The simple pleasure of saving lives without risking my own.

It sounds nice. Safe. Boring.

Then I think about never seeing Kael again, feeling the bond hum between us, and knowing what we could have been if we'd had more time.

"No," I say.

He blinks. "No?"

"I'm staying." The decision feels right as soon as I say it. "I'm staying, and we're going to figure this out together."

"Clara, you could die…"

"I could die crossing the street," I interrupt. "I could die in a car accident or from some random illness. Life is always a risk, Kael. At least this way, I'm choosing what I risk it for."

"You're choosing me?" He sounds like he can't quite believe it.

"I'm choosing us." I reach out and take his hand, feeling the bond flare warm and bright between us. "You're an idiot for not telling me sooner. And I'm probably an idiot for staying. But yes, I'm choosing this. I'm choosing you."

He pulls me into his arms, holding me so tight I can barely breathe. I feel wetness on my neck and realize he's crying.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers.

"Probably not," I agree. "But you're stuck with me anyway."

We stay like that for a long time, holding each other while the reality of our situation settles around us. I'm probably going to die. The bond between us is a ticking clock counting down to my last breath.

Since I stumbled into this supernatural world, I feel like I'm making my own choice. Not running from a broken engagement. Not being swept along by forces I don't understand.

I'm choosing to stay. Choosing to fight. Choosing to love someone even though it might kill me.

That makes me stupid. Maybe it makes me brave.

Or it just makes me human.