Chapter 136 : Threads of Normalcy
Chapter 136 : Threads of Normalcy
ELIAS’ POV
I adjusted the pillow behind my back for the third time in ten minutes, trying to find a position that did not pull at the healing incision across my lower abdomen. The baby slept against my chest, his tiny breaths warm and steady through the thin hospital gown. Kai sat in the armchair beside the bed, legs stretched out, one hand resting on my thigh like he needed the contact to stay grounded. The room had become our small world these past days, a bubble of quiet amid the chaos still swirling outside the hospital walls.
“You are fidgeting again,” Kai said, his voice low so he would not wake the baby. He squeezed my thigh gently. “Tell me what you need. More water? Another blanket? Or should I chase the nurses away for the next hour so you can actually rest?”
I smiled despite the persistent ache in my body. “I need you to stop hovering like I am made of glass. I gave birth, Kai. I did not shatter.”
He raised an eyebrow, that half-smile I was growing used to again tugging at his lips. “You had major surgery. You are healing. Let me hover. It makes me feel useful while my brain is still playing catch-up.”
I reached over and laced our fingers together. His hand was warm, calloused from training he had thrown himself back into the moment the healers allowed it. “You are useful. You have been here every second. Changing diapers. Helping me walk the halls. Threatening the council when they tried to sneak in meetings while I was supposed to be resting. I see you, Kai. Even if some memories are still missing, I see how hard you are trying.”
He brought our joined hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “Trying is not enough. I want to remember everything. The way you looked at me when we first mated. The sound of your laugh when I did something stupid. The way you argued with me in council and won half the time. It is coming back in pieces, but it is slow. Too slow.”
Our son stirred, making a small grunting noise before settling again. I rubbed his back in slow circles, feeling the delicate rise and fall of his breathing. “He is the best reminder. Every time he looks at you with those eyes, I know we built something real. Memory or not, you are his father. That part never left you.”
Kai leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the baby’s head, then one to my temple. “I keep having these flashes. Not full scenes. Just feelings. Warmth when I hear your voice. This pull in my chest when you smile at me like you are doing right now. It is driving me crazy because I know there is more. I can almost taste it.”
A nurse knocked softly and entered to check my vitals. Kai watched her every move like a hawk, ready to step in if she so much as made me wince. The nurse gave him an amused look but said nothing as she adjusted the IV and noted my stats.
“You are healing well, Luna,” she said. “The incision is clean. Keep resting. No sudden movements. And congratulations again on this little warrior. He has strong lungs.”
After she left, Kai helped me sip some water, then took the baby when he started fussing. He walked the length of the room with him, bouncing gently, murmuring nonsense words that made my chest feel too full. Watching them together was still surreal. Kai moved with natural confidence, like some deep instinct had survived the memory loss intact.
“Come here,” I said when he passed the bed again. “Sit with us.”
He settled beside me carefully, our son between us. We spent the next hour talking about small things. The color of the nursery we would paint when we returned to the castle. The way the baby’s hair curled at the back of his head. How Liora had threatened to steal him for an entire afternoon once we were discharged. The conversation flowed easily, no pressure to fill in the gaps of what Kai had lost. We were building new memories on top of the old ones, and for now that felt right.
Later that afternoon, Liora arrived with a basket of fresh fruit and soft blankets. She hugged me carefully, then stole the baby from Kai with practiced ease.
“Look at you, little fighter,” she cooed, rocking him. “You are going to keep your fathers on their toes, aren’t you?”
Kai watched her with a soft expression. “He already is. Elias barely slept last night because this one decided midnight was playtime.”
Liora laughed. “Sounds like a true Silverfang heir. Stubborn from birth.”
We talked for a while about pack matters. Border reports. The latest from the scouts tracking Clara and Gavin. The way the council was finally starting to fall in line behind my temporary leadership. Beneath the conversation, the tension lingered. We all knew the peace in this room was temporary. Enemies were still moving in the shadows. But for these few hours, we let ourselves pretend the world outside could wait.
When Liora left, Kai helped me walk the hallway again. Each lap got a little easier. He kept one arm around my waist, matching my slow pace, telling me stories from the flashes he was getting. A training session where I had beaten him with a wooden sword. A late night argument that ended with us laughing in bed. Each story felt like another thread reconnecting us.
Back in the room, he helped me settle into bed and brought me dinner on a tray. We ate together, our son sleeping between us. Kai kept stealing glances at me, that curious, hungry look returning. The same one he had given me in the cabin before everything had gone to hell with the early labor.
“You keep looking at me like that,” I said, setting my fork down.
“Like what?” he asked, though the slight smirk told me he knew exactly what I meant.
“Like you are trying to decide whether to kiss me or carry me somewhere more private.”
Kai’s smirk grew. “Both. Definitely both. But you are still healing. I can wait. I have waited this long.”
I reached over and traced a finger along his jaw. “I am healing faster than they expected. The white wolf helps. And I miss you. All of you.”
His eyes darkened. He leaned in and kissed me, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that promised more when my body was ready. When we pulled apart, we were both breathing harder.
“Soon,” he murmured against my lips. “When you are ready. I want to remember every second of it this time.”
We spent the evening planning small things for when we could leave the hospital. The nursery. The first pack meeting we would attend together. The way we would introduce our son to the warriors. Beneath the plans, I felt the undercurrent of worry. Clara and Gavin were still free. Seraphina’s father had thrown his support behind them. Every scout report brought new threats closer to our borders. But I pushed those thoughts down. Tonight was for us.
Kai eventually fell asleep in the armchair, one hand still holding mine. I watched him for a long time, memorizing the relaxed lines of his face. The memory loss had stripped away some of his hardness, leaving a version of him that was more open. More vulnerable. I loved both versions. The fierce Alpha and the man rediscovering his own heart.
As the night deepened, I felt the first real stirrings of hope since the raid. We were healing, together, piece by piece. The pack was stabilizing under our combined leadership. Our son was healthy. Kai’s memories were returning.
But in the back of my mind, the shadow remained. Clara and Gavin would not stay quiet forever. Seraphina’s silence was too loud. Something was coming.