Chapter 180

Chapter 180
Freya's POV

The helicopter's engines roared around us, but all I could hear was the terrifying silence from Alexander's still form. His face was paper-white, silver poisoning spreading through his veins like a slow death sentence.

I clutched the moongrass container in one hand and kept the other pressed against his chest, feeling for the faint flutter of his heartbeat.

'Please don't leave me. Not now. Not when Luke needs us both.'

"ETA three minutes!" Caleb shouted over the noise, his own voice tight with worry. He'd been on the radio with Dr. Aubrey since we lifted off, coordinating the medical response.

Moonlight Hospital erupted into controlled chaos the moment our helicopter touched down. Two medical teams were waiting: one for Alexander, one preparing for Luke's treatment.

"Freya," Dr. Aubrey appeared beside me, her face grave. "He's stable for now, but we need to get him to the ICU immediately. And Luke—"

"How is he?" I demanded, finally releasing Alexander as they loaded him onto a gurney. "Tell me the truth."

"His temperature is 117 degrees Fahrenheit," Dr. Aubrey said quietly. "We're running out of time."

My legs nearly gave out. A wolf pup's normal body temperature was already higher than humans, but 117 was approaching lethal levels.

"Freya!" Stella caught my arm as I swayed. "You're bleeding. We need to check your injuries."

I looked down to see Angela's claw marks had soaked through my shirt, but I couldn't bring myself to care. "Later. Luke first."

---

The next few hours blurred together in a nightmare of medical procedures and desperate waiting. Alexander was unconscious in the ICU, silver poisoning ravaging his system. Dr. Aubrey managed to draw blood samples, but working with an unconscious patient complicated everything.

"The blood fusion is our best hope," she explained as we watched the precious drops of Alexander's blood mix with mine and the moongrass extract. "But without his conscious participation, the reaction is... weaker than expected."

The container in her hands glowed with a faint silver-blue light, but nothing like the brilliant radiance we'd seen during our earlier tests.

"Will it be enough?" I whispered.

Isabella, who'd been monitoring the mixture, looked worried. "Father's unconscious state might be affecting the blood's potency. We should wait for the full moon—it's only six days away. The lunar energy might compensate for what we're lacking."

The next few days passed in a haze of exhaustion and terror. I split my time between Alexander's ICU room and Luke's treatment room, watching helplessly as both of them fought for their lives.

Lily and Levi kept asking when Daddy and Luke would wake up, their innocent questions like knives to my heart. I held them close and lied through my teeth, telling them everything would be okay when I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Zoe found me on the third night, slumped in a chair between their rooms.

"Freya, you need to sleep," she said gently. "You haven't closed your eyes in seventy-two hours."

"I can't," I whispered. "If I leave, something might happen. I might lose them both."

By the time the full moon rose on the sixth night, I was running on pure willpower and desperation. Dr. Aubrey had set up the treatment room on the hospital's top floor, where moonlight could stream through the skylights directly onto Luke's bed.

The moon was full and brilliant, casting silver shadows across the treatment room. Luke lay unconscious on the medical bed, his small body wracked with fever.

The prepared mixture of moongrass, Alexander's blood, and mine sat in a crystal vial, waiting.

I placed my hands on either side of the vial and reached deep into my Faith bloodline power. The silver energy responded immediately, flowing through me like liquid starlight.

The moongrass mixture began to glow brighter as my power infused it, silver-blue light dancing through the liquid. I could feel the ancient magic awakening, recognizing the Faith bloodline and responding to my desperate love for my son.

But the effort was enormous. Without Alexander's strength to support me, I was bearing the full weight of the healing process alone. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I poured more and more energy into the mixture.

"Freya, your vitals are spiking," Isabella warned from her monitoring station.

I ignored her. The mixture was almost ready—I could feel it reaching the critical point where it would be most effective. Just a little more...

The world tilted sideways as my strength gave out. I caught myself on the edge of Luke's bed, gasping for air.

"That's enough," Dr. Aubrey said firmly. "Any more and you'll collapse."

The mixture in the vial was glowing like captured moonlight, more brilliant than anything we'd achieved before. Despite my exhaustion, I felt a surge of hope.

---

Administering the medicine was the hardest thing I'd ever done. Luke was so small, so still, and for a terrifying moment I thought we were too late. But then the moongrass mixture touched his lips, and the change was immediate.

The silver-blue glow spread across his skin like healing starlight.

His fever broke within minutes, the dangerous heat leaving his body so quickly I could actually feel the temperature change. The crescent moon mark on his forehead, which had been angry and inflamed, began to fade.

"His vitals are stabilizing," Dr. Aubrey announced, wonder in her voice. "Temperature dropping, heart rate normalizing..."

I didn't hear the rest. The moment I was sure Luke was safe, my body gave out completely. The last thing I remembered was Isabella catching me as I collapsed.

When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Luke's bright eyes looking down at me with concern.

"Mom! You're awake!" he said, his voice still weak but so beautifully alive.

"Luke." I struggled to sit up, my body aching from the ordeal. "How do you feel?"

"Better," he said simply. Then, with the devastating honesty of a five-year-old: "Mama, when is Daddy going to wake up?"

My heart clenched. Three days since Luke's recovery, and Alexander was still unconscious. His condition had stabilized, but there was no sign of when—or if—he would wake up.

"I don't know, sweetheart," I admitted, pulling him into a gentle hug. "But he's getting stronger every day."

Lily and Levi climbed onto the bed with us, and for a moment we were complete—except for the gaping hole where Alexander should have been.

"The pack council is asking about Angela's trial," Edward said quietly from the doorway. "The Werewolf Court won't wait much longer."

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders again. Angela was being held pending formal charges, but her trial would require my testimony. As the primary victim of her schemes, I needed to be there to ensure justice was served.

"When?" I asked.

"Tomorrow," Anson replied, stepping into the room. "I know you don't want to leave Alexander, but this can't be delayed any longer."

The thought of leaving Alexander's bedside made my chest tight with panic. What if he woke up while I was gone? What if something happened and I wasn't here?

But I owed it to everyone Angela had hurt—including my family—to see this through.

That evening, I sat beside Alexander's bed, holding his hand and memorizing every detail of his face.

"I have to go handle Angela's trial," I whispered to his still form. "But I'll be back as soon as I can. And when I get back, we're going to face whatever comes next together. I promise."

I leaned down and kissed his forehead, tasting the salt of my own tears.

"Please, I can't bear this alone," I whispered.