Vigil
857 Words
Damon didn’t remember deciding to run.
One moment he was on his knees beside Kyrian’s unmoving body, the next he was lifting him into his arms and tearing out of the cells like the world was ending behind him.
“Move,” he snarled, dominance cracking like thunder through the corridors.
Guards scattered. Doors flew open. Someone shouted for healers, voices blurring into noise as Damon took the stairs two at a time, Kyrian’s weight terrifyingly light against his chest.
He didn’t slow until he reached the pack hospital.
“Out of the way,” he barked, already laying Kyrian on the nearest bed.
Healers flooded the room, hands glowing, scents sharp with urgency. Damon backed away only when they physically forced him to, his wolf pacing, clawing, howling in his skull.
He’s not breathing right.
He’s too still.
This is my fault. Damon whispered.
“Alpha,” one healer said carefully, “the bond…”
“I don’t care,” Damon snapped. “Fix him.”
They worked in tense silence. Minutes stretched into something unbearable. Damon stood rigid, hands fisted at his sides, eyes locked on Kyrian’s chest as if sheer will could make it rise.
Finally, a healer exhaled slowly. “He’s stable.”
Damon sagged, the relief so sharp it hurt.
“But he’s not waking,” she continued. “The bond took damage. Severe strain. He may sleep until it settles.”
“How long?” Damon asked, dread creeping back in.
“Hours. Days.” She hesitated. “Or… longer.”
The word landed heavy.
“You need to stay,” another healer added. “Close. The bond responds better when the anchor is present.”
Damon didn’t question it.
He sat at Kyrian’s bedside and didn’t move.
For three days, Kyrian slept.
Damon barely did.
He watched every breath, every twitch of fingers, every subtle shift in scent. He fed him water when allowed, held his hand when no one was watching, murmured quiet, broken apologies Kyrian couldn’t hear.
“I’m here,” he whispered more than once, voice rough. “I’m not leaving.”
The healers came and went. The pack whispered outside the doors. Hannah appeared once, eyes sharp and assessing, but Damon didn’t acknowledge her existence.
Nothing mattered except the slow rise and fall of Kyrian’s chest.
On the second night, Damon nearly lost him again his breathing faltering, the bond pulling tight enough to make Damon gasp. He climbed onto the bed without thinking, pressing his forehead to Kyrian’s temple, pouring steady presence into the bond until it eased.
The healers let it happen.
“It’s working,” one murmured.
By the third day, exhaustion hollowed Damon out. He rested his head near Kyrian’s shoulder, fingers tangled in the blanket, fear humming beneath his skin like a live wire.
“Please,” he whispered, the word stripped bare. “Wake up.”
When Kyrian’s fingers twitched faintly against his hand, Damon froze.
Kyrian’s body moved for the first time in days and his eyes opened.
The chaos reached the council chamber before dawn.
Elders were dragged from their quarters half dressed, voices raised, dominance flaring as news spread through Blackwood like wildfire.
The omega collapsed.
The bond nearly severed.
The Alpha carried him himself.
That same night when Kyrian was rushed to the hospital words reached the Elders immediately.
Stone doors slammed shut as the council convened in haste. No ceremony. No formality. Fear stripped tradition bare.
“This is exactly what we warned about,” Elder Marcus snapped, pacing the chamber. “The bond is destabilizing him. Damon has lost control.”
“And if the omega dies,” Rowan added grimly, “the Alpha will follow. Or worse survive and destroy us for it.”
Elijah said nothing at first, fingers steepled, eyes dark with thought. “We miscalculated,” he finally said. “Containment failed.”
Arguments erupted.
Relocation was no longer possible. Rejection too dangerous.
“The pack cannot survive another night like this,” Marcus growled. “Our Alpha ran through the stronghold like a feral wolf. Warriors followed without orders. If enemies had struck…”
“They would have been slaughtered,” Rowan cut in. “Because Damon Belloti is still the strongest among us.”
Silence fell.
Strength was not the issue.
Control was.
Elijah exhaled slowly. “We must decide before he wakes,” he said. “Before Damon realizes how close he came to losing him.”
“And if we’re too late?” Marcus asked quietly.
Elijah’s gaze hardened. “Then we would force him to complete the mating ceremony and mark Hannah.
The council looked at one another, finally understanding the truth they had tried so hard to deny.
The bond was no longer a question.
It was a verdict. Murmurs spread.
Fear always moved faster than loyalty.
By sunset, a decree was signed.
Emergency bond suppression to ease the effect of of the bond and then rejection will follow. With this method the outcome of the Omega dying during the rejection will be avoided.
Experimental. Dangerous. Legal under elder law.
No Alpha consent required.
- Writer
