Chapter 40 - The Silence
1051 Words
*Raiden – pov*
The house had become a tomb.
Silent and cold.
Haunted by grief so thick it pressed against my lungs every time I walked through the halls.
Elara barely spoke.
Barely slept.
Barely seemed aware of anything outside the crushing devastation consuming her.
One week.
Seven days since Lucien ripped her world apart and I was losing her a little more each day.
I stood near the library windows watching rain drift softly through the forest beyond Rosewood’s grounds while unease twisted constantly beneath my skin.
It hasn’t stopped raining since that night.
There was a barrier around the house that kept us from leaving. We had no idea how it came to be. It must be connected to Elara’s grief.
The barrier shimmered faintly against the tree line if you looked hard enough.
Silver magic woven through the air itself.
Elara must have created it unconsciously the night she screamed.
Now nothing entered and nothing left either.
No mindlinks worked beyond the dome boundaries.
Cell service flickered in and out randomly.
Even patrol wolves couldn’t cross through.
It seemed the barrier responded to her emotions which meant grief had turned Rosewood into a fortress.
Or prison.
Depending how you looked at it.
Behind me, Claire sat curled into one of the library chairs reading through an old supernatural history book with alarming enthusiasm.
“I’m just saying,” she muttered without looking up, “finding out werewolves are real somehow explains why every attractive man in this town looks genetically engineered.”
Under normal circumstances I might’ve laughed.
Instead my attention drifted automatically toward the doorway.
Toward Elara.
She moved silently through the hall carrying fresh linens in her arms.
Still wearing black.
Always black now.
Her pale hair hung loose around her shoulders while exhaustion hollowed shadows beneath her eyes.
But it was the emptiness that unsettled me most.
Like part of her had retreated somewhere unreachable.
“Elara,” I said softly.
She paused.
Slowly looked toward me.
No anger.
No warmth.
Just exhaustion.
“You should rest.”
“I’m busy.”
Her voice sounded distant now.
Flat.
Claire lowered the book quietly watching her carefully.
“El…”
“I said I’m busy.”
Not sharp.
Not cruel.
Worse.
Emotionless.
Then she disappeared down the hallway again.
Silence settled heavily behind her.
Claire exhaled slowly.
“She hasn’t cried since that night.”
She hadn’t and somehow that frightened me more because I could feel everything trapped beneath the surface through the bond.
Grief.
Rage.
Guilt.
A storm waiting to explode again.
I rubbed tiredly at my jaw.
“She won’t let me help.”
Claire closed the book carefully.
“She probably thinks if she stops moving she’ll break.”
Maybe.
---
The bodies remained in the living room.
That alone unsettled every instinct inside me.
Not because Elara neglected them.
The opposite.
She cleaned them carefully herself.
Prepared them according to old wolf traditions she read about in a book.
But she refused to let anyone else near them.
As if letting go would make their deaths real.
The funeral never happened.
Couldn’t happen.
Not while the barrier remained active and not while Elara refused to leave them.
At night she sat beside them for hours in silence while silver magic drifted softly through the room like living mist.
Watching.
Guarding.
Mourning.
It broke something inside me every time.
---
Three days ago Rafe finally managed brief contact through the edge of the barrier.
Enough to tell us they’d been searching for answers nonstop.
Enough to tell me Lucien vanished completely after the murders.
Coward.
But yesterday, they found something else, a someone.
The front doors opened suddenly downstairs pulling me from my thoughts.
Magic brushed sharply across the barrier.
Not hostile.
Allowed.
Elara.
She let someone through.
I moved immediately toward the entrance hall.
Claire followed close behind.
Jake entered first looking exhausted and rain-soaked.
But alive.
Relief hit hard and immediate.
Then I saw the woman beside him.
Young.
Dark-haired.
Sharp green eyes.
Power humming visibly beneath her skin.
A witch.
Jake’s expression softened slightly when he glanced toward her.
Interesting.
“She is my mate.” He confirmed through our mindlink.
Claire noticed too apparently because she whispered loudly beside me…
“Oh my God everyone here is soulmated.”
Jake ignored her completely.
“Where’s Elara?”
Before I could answer, she appeared silently at the top of the staircase.
Every instinct inside me tightened instantly.
Because for the first time all week, something other than emptiness flickered across her face.
Awareness.
The witch stepped forward slowly.
“My name is Airena.”
Elara said nothing.
Just watched.
Airena hesitated before continuing carefully.
“My mother sent me.”
The air changed immediately.
Magic stirred softly through the walls.
Elara descended the staircase slowly.
Barefoot.
Ghostlike.
Dangerous.
Airena swallowed visibly but held her ground.
“My mother knew your parents.”
Silence.
Then finally—
Elara spoke.
“She knew my mother?”
Airena nodded once.
“She agreed to help you.”
I felt the shift instantly.
Hope.
Tiny.
Fragile.
But present hope.
Claire glanced between all of us nervously.
“So… are we talking therapy help or spooky magic help?”
Jake pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Claire.”
“What? I need categories now.”
Under any other circumstances Elara might’ve smiled.
Instead she stared at Airena carefully.
“Where is she?”
Airena hesitated.
That alone made my wolf uneasy.
“She won’t enter the estate.”
The barrier pulsed faintly around us.
“She says your magic is too unstable.”
Fair assessment.
Elara’s eyes darkened slightly.
“Then why help me?”
Airena looked genuinely uncomfortable now.
“My mother believes what happened to your family should never have happened.”
The wording caught my attention immediately.
Not condolences.
Not sympathy.
Specific.
Like history.
Like guilt.
Elara noticed too.
The house grew colder suddenly.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Airena’s pulse visibly jumped.
Interesting.
Then quietly—
“My mother knew your birth mother very well.”
The silence afterward felt enormous.
Because something deep inside the bond shifted sharply.
Instinct.
Recognition.
And for the first time since that night, I saw real emotion return to Elara’s face…suspicion.
- Writer
