Chapter 9
1056 Words
Caelira no longer measured time in days.
Only in moments of wakefulness.
Moments of pain.
Moments where the bond pulsed strongly enough to drag her back into awareness before letting her slip again into something quieter, heavier.
She did not remember lying down.
She only knew she had not stood in… some time.
Her body refused now.
Completely.
Even shifting her weight sent a dull ache through her side, her limbs slow to respond, her strength reduced to something fragile and unreliable. Breathing itself had become an effort—too deep, and the pain sharpened; too shallow, and her chest tightened until it felt like she might forget how.
The room around her felt larger.
Not because it had changed—
But because she had shrunk within it.
The door opened.
She heard it.
Felt it.
But did not move.
Voices followed.
Not one.
Several.
They didn’t whisper.
Not anymore.
“…she hasn’t stood?”
“I was told—”
“—the Alpha knows—”
“Of course he knows.”
Footsteps moved closer.
Slow.
Measured.
Curious.
Caelira forced her eyes open.
The light hurt.
Everything did.
Shapes formed slowly—figures standing just inside the room, their outlines unfamiliar, their presence intrusive in a way that made her chest tighten.
They were looking at her.
Not hiding it.
Not pretending.
Just… looking.
As though she were something already halfway gone.
“She can hear you.”
The voice cut through the low murmur.
Seren.
The room shifted immediately.
The others stepped back slightly, their curiosity folding into something more controlled, more cautious.
Seren stepped forward.
Alone.
Her gaze settled on Caelira, steady, unblinking.
Taking in everything.
The stillness.
The pallor.
The way her body lay curled slightly, as though protecting something that no longer held together.
For a moment—
She said nothing.
Then—
“How long?” she asked, without looking away.
No one answered immediately.
Finally, one of the others spoke.
“Two days… maybe more.”
Seren nodded once.
As if confirming something she had already suspected.
“Leave,” she said.
They didn’t hesitate.
The room emptied quickly, quietly, leaving only the two of them.
Silence settled again.
But it wasn’t the same.
Seren moved closer.
Slower this time.
More deliberate.
She stopped just beside where Caelira lay, looking down at her with an expression that was harder to r******w.
Less sharp.
Less certain.
“You’re still here,” she said softly.
It wasn’t a question.
Caelira’s lips parted slightly.
Her voice, when it came, was barely there.
“I… can’t move…”
The admission felt foreign.
Heavy.
Seren’s gaze flickered—just briefly—to her side, where her hand remained curled protectively.
Then back to her face.
“I can see that.”
A pause.
Longer this time.
Then—
“Does it hurt?”
The question was unexpected.
Not kind.
But not cruel either.
Just… direct.
Caelira swallowed slowly.
“Yes.”
The word was quiet.
But honest.
Seren exhaled softly, her shoulders shifting just slightly.
Then—
She straightened.
And whatever had softened—if anything had—was gone again.
“You won’t be brought out anymore,” she said.
Matter-of-fact.
Decided.
“The Alpha won’t allow weakness to be seen like this.”
The words should have brought relief.
They didn’t.
They felt like erasure.
Complete.
Later that day, the door opened again.
This time—
It was him.
Malrec stepped inside without hesitation, his presence filling the room in a way that made the air feel tighter, heavier.
The bond reacted immediately.
Weak—
But still there.
Still pulling.
Still demanding something her body could no longer give.
He stopped a few steps away.
Looked down at her.
And for the first time—
He didn’t speak right away.
His gaze moved slowly over her form, taking in what could no longer be hidden.
The stillness.
The lack of response.
The way even breathing seemed… effortful.
“You’ve deteriorated,” he said finally.
Flat.
Unemotional.
Caelira didn’t answer.
Didn’t have the strength.
The bond pulsed again.
Faint.
Uneven.
He stepped closer.
Close enough that the pressure of his presence should have forced a reaction.
Should have drawn her toward him.
But it didn’t.
Not fully.
Something in that connection had weakened.
Fractured.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Get up.”
The command came without hesitation.
Automatic.
Expected.
Caelira’s body didn’t respond.
Not immediately.
Not fully.
Her fingers twitched.
Her arm shifted slightly.
But that was all.
“I can’t…” she whispered.
The words felt heavier this time.
Final.
Malrec’s expression hardened.
“Stand.”
The bond surged.
For a brief moment, something inside her tried to obey—her muscles tensing, her body attempting to respond—
Then the pain hit.
Sharp.
Deep.
Her breath caught as the effort collapsed in on itself, her body failing before it could even begin.
She didn’t rise.
Didn’t even come close.
Silence followed.
Thick.
Unforgiving.
Malrec looked down at her.
And this time—
There was something else there.
Not concern.
Not guilt.
But… irritation.
At the failure.
At the disobedience her body could no longer prevent.
“You’re becoming useless,” he said.
The words landed without force.
But they settled heavily.
Permanently.
He didn’t stay long.
Didn’t try again.
Didn’t push further.
He simply turned—
And left.
The room felt colder after he was gone.
Quieter.
Empty in a way that pressed down on her chest.
Caelira lay still, her body too heavy to move, her thoughts slower now, drifting in and out of clarity.
The bond pulsed faintly.
Still there.
Still binding her.
But no longer holding her together.
If anything—
It felt like it was unraveling along with her.
That night, she didn’t sleep.
Not fully.
Her breathing remained uneven, her body locked in a state of quiet, constant pain that no longer rose or fell—just stayed.
At some point—
She realized something.
Not all at once.
Not sharply.
But slowly.
Like a truth settling into place.
No one was coming.
No one was going to stop this.
Not Malrec.
Not Seren.
Not anyone who had looked at her and chosen to walk away.
And for the first time—
That realization didn’t bring fear.
Or panic.
Or even despair.
Just…
Stillness.
- Writer
