Chapter 188 CHAPTER 188

Chapter 188 CHAPTER 188
Vivienne's POV

I couldn't look away.

Emma's body was convulsing on the rug, her back arching so violently I thought her spine might snap. Her screams filled the room—raw, agonized, the kind of sound I had never heard anyone make before. It was the sound of someone being torn apart from the inside, of a soul being ripped from its vessel and forced into something new.

Black energy swirled around her body like smoke, coiling and twisting, sinking into her skin, pulling out of her chest. It was the wolf spirit. It was fighting her. It was trying to consume her.

"Emma!" I screamed. My voice was broken, desperate. "Emma, fight it! Please!"

She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. Her body was a battlefield, and she was losing. I could see it in the way her muscles spasmed, in the way her fingers clawed at the rug, in the way her face twisted in agony. Every scream tore through me like a blade, cutting deeper than any wound I had ever received.

"Please," I whispered. "Please, God, please—don't take her. Not her. Please—"

Emma's body arched again, higher this time. Her back lifted off the rug, her spine bending at an angle that should have been impossible. A howl tore from her throat—not human, not quite wolf, something in between. Her eyes snapped open, glowing red for just a moment before they rolled back into her head.

"This is wrong!" I shouted, pushing myself to my feet. The words came out raw, desperate. "This is wrong, Elara! She's dying! Stop it!"

"I can't stop it." Elara's voice was steady, but I could see the tension in her jaw, the worry in her eyes. "Once the spirit has entered, it cannot be undone. Stopping now would kill her."

"Then do something!" I was crying now, the tears streaming down my face, hot and relentless. "You have to do something! You can't just let her—"

"There is nothing to do." Elara's voice was firmer now, cutting through my panic. "She must fight through it on her own. That is the only way."

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't watch. I couldn't listen to her scream and do nothing. I was going to break. I was going to shatter into pieces right there.

I ran to Rafael.

I buried my face in his chest, my hands gripping his shirt, my body shaking with sobs. I could feel his arms wrapping around me, holding me tight. I felt his heartbeat beneath my ear, fast and pounding. He was scared too. I could feel it in the way his muscles tensed, in the way his breath caught.

"I can't—" I choked out. My voice was muffled against his chest. "I can't take this, Rafael. It's too much. It's too much—"

"Shh. Shh." His voice was low, steady, but I could feel the tremor in it. "I've got you. Just breathe."

"She's dying, Rafael." My voice broke completely. "She's dying, and I can't—I can't lose her too. I can't—I've already lost everyone. I can't lose her."

"You won't lose her." His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer. "She's strong, Vivienne. She's always been strong. You know that. You've seen her fight. She's not going to give up."

"I can't—"

"Look at me."

I pulled back, my face wet, my eyes swollen. Rafael's eyes were fixed on mine, holding me steady. There was fear in them, but there was also something else—something that looked like faith.

"She's going to make it," he said. His voice was certain, absolute. "I know it. She's a fighter. And you need to be strong too—for her. She needs us to believe in her. Do you understand?"

I nodded, even though I wasn't sure I believed it. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and turned back to the scene. My hands were shaking. My heart was pounding. But I forced myself to watch.

Emma's screams reached a crescendo—a piercing, terrible sound that seemed to shake the walls. Her body was a blur of convulsions, black energy swirling around her faster and faster, forming shapes that I couldn't recognize. She was tearing herself apart, or being torn apart, I couldn't tell anymore.

And then—

Silence.

The screams stopped. The convulsions stopped. The black energy froze, then dissolved, dissipating into the air like smoke in the wind.

Emma went still.

The room was silent. So silent I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears. I could hear Rafael breathing behind me, could hear Charles's cane against the floor, could hear the fire crackling in the hearth.

"No," I whispered. "No, no, no—"

I rushed to her. I dropped to my knees beside her body, my hands reaching for her. She was lying on the rug, her eyes closed, her face pale and still. She looked like she was sleeping. She looked peaceful.

But I knew. I could feel it. Something was wrong.

"Emma?" I touched her cheek. It was cold. So cold. "Emma, wake up. Please."

Nothing.

"Emma, please—"

I grabbed her hands. They were limp. Cold. Lifeless. I squeezed them, hoping for a twitch, a pulse, anything. There was nothing.

"No—" I shook her shoulders, my voice rising in panic. "Emma! Wake up! Please!"

The tears were falling now, hot and relentless. I couldn't stop them. I couldn't breathe.

I could feel Rafael behind me, his hand on my shoulder. His heartbeat had spiked, pounding against my back. He was as terrified as I was.

"Elara," I said, my voice breaking. "Please. Please, do something. She can't—she can't be dead. She can't—"

Elara moved to kneel beside me. Her face was pale, her hands steady, but I could see the fear in her eyes. She placed her fingers on Emma's neck, pressing gently, searching for a pulse. I watched her face, desperate for any sign of hope. Any sign that Emma was still there.

Elara's expression crumbled.

She closed her eyes. Her shoulders sagged. And I knew. I knew before she said anything. I could see it in the way her hands fell to her sides, in the way her face drained of color.

"No." I shook my head. "No, no, no. Not Emma. Not her. Please, God, not her."

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. My world had narrowed to Emma's cold, lifeless body and the weight of everything I had lost.

My parents. The Steeles. Emma.

It was too much. It was all too much.

I was about to break completely—about to collapse into sobs that would never stop—when a howl pierced the silence.

It came from Emma's body.

The sound was raw and primal, a wolf's howl that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her chest. It echoed through the room, shaking the walls, rattling the windows. It was a sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

And then Emma's body came alive.