Chapter 250 Chapter 250

Chapter 250 Chapter 250
Reed

Given how badly Erlan’s thugs had roughed me up, I thought for sure I wouldn’t recover.

Every rib had felt cracked. My vision had blurred in and out for what seemed like hours. There had been so much blood I’d almost laughed at the absurdity of it, like my body was trying to empty itself out before the cancer could.

But I survived. Just barely.

The doctors later told me it was a miracle I hadn’t slipped into a coma.

Turns out cancer slows down the healing process significantly, even when you’re a werewolf. Lucky me. My body, once strong and fast and resilient, now healed like a reluctant old machine grinding against rust.

Bruises lingered longer. Cuts sealed slower. The internal damage felt like it had taken permanent residence. Not that it mattered much.

I wasn’t going to live much longer anyway.

Whether the wounds healed properly or not felt almost irrelevant.

I just wanted to be conscious, that was my only real demand of the universe. Let me stay awake long enough to say goodbye to the few people I still had.

What’s ironic though is that Rayne and I were admitted to the same hospital. Same building. Same floors. Probably separated by just a few hallways and a handful of doors.

The universe really has a twisted sense of humor.

I couldn’t bring myself to go see him.

Not because I didn't love him anymore. At least not in the way I used to.

It also wasn't because I wanted to avoid him but because I didn’t know what I’d feel if I did.

Regret? Shame? Nostalgia?

Instead, I got updates from Roger.

He would come sit by my bed, arms folded, pretending he wasn’t worried sick about everyone at once.

“Rayne pulled through,” he told me one afternoon. “He’s stable. Improving.”

And it made me really happy. Genuinely happy. The kind of happiness that doesn’t burn. And it surprised me.

Amber came to visit me a few times. She looked exhausted with dark circles beneath her eyes, hair pulled back hastily and the faint scent of antiseptic clinging to her clothes.

Even though it was selfish of me considering the situation, considering Rayne had literally died and come back, I still reminded her that she’d promised to perform my surgery.

I hated myself for it the moment the words left my mouth but I needed to hear it. I needed reassurance.

Like the wonderful person she’d always been, she didn’t back out. She didn’t hesitate or even make excuses.

She simply nodded and said, “I’ll handle everything when the time comes.”

Calm. Professional. Steady.

It filled me with relief and guilt. Because even at the very end, I was still asking something from her. Still pulling at her time, her energy and even her heart.

It seemed like I would be an awful person until the day I died.

At least Percy would get a chance at life.

That had to count for something.

Amber didn’t have to say it, but I could tell she was worried about Rayne.

The way her eyes flickered toward the door.

The way her mind seemed split in two directions.

Roger confirmed it.

“She barely leaves his room,” he told me quietly. “Practically lives there.”

I could picture it easily; Amber sitting by Rayne’s bedside. Adjusting his blankets. Checking his vitals. Brushing his hair back from his forehead.

Once upon a time, that image would have set my entire body on fire. Jealousy would have roared through me like a wildfire. Hatred would have followed close behind. But now?

Now I felt… relief. And something else. Something bittersweet. Like letting go of something precious after nurturing it for years.

You don’t stop loving it. You just… accept it was never truly yours.

They were always destined for each other. Always. And I had only made the three of us miserable by stubbornly clinging to my toxic love for so many years.

I called it devotion, true love, need. But it had been nothing but obsession and dependency rolled into one hit mess.

I was just so scared of being alone. Of losing the only one who I thought truly loved me that I didn't care what I did to make him stay.

I caused so much unnecessary suffering but I had been through my own share of hell too.
The betrayal. The constant fight to prove I was worth something. The cancer.

After all of that, I just felt… numb.

Maybe it was the drugs or maybe I was simply tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of chasing. Tired of trying to force something that refused to stay.

Finally giving Rayne up was the most liberating thing I had ever done. It felt like cutting a chain I hadn’t realized was wrapped around my throat. I just wished I had realized sooner that it was possible. If I could impart one nugget of wisdom before I pass on, it would be this:

Never build your entire life around a single person. Not a lover or even your children. It’s too heavy a burden for both parties involved. It turns love into pressure. Devotion into expectation. And eventually, into poison. I would know.

If I could do it all over again…