Chapter 174
Lily POV
Three days later p>
The wheelchair felt unnecessary, but hospital policy was hospital policy. I sat patiently as the nurse pushed me through the corridors, my discharge papers clutched in my lap along with a small bag containing the few personal items I’d accumulated during my stay. My body felt stronger than it had in days, the worst of my injuries having healed.
Celeste walked beside us, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She’d arrived an hour earlier with fresh clothes—dark jeans, a soft cashmere sweater, and comfortable boots that would be easy to walk in. The normalcy of getting dressed in my own clothes instead of hospital gowns had been surprisingly emotional.
“The car is in the underground parking level,” Celeste explained to the nurse as we reached the elevator bank. “Level B2, section C p>
The nurse nodded, pressing the call button. “The wheelchair needs to be returned before you leave the premises p>
“Of course,” Celeste agreed, though I caught the slight impatience in her tone. She was as eager to leave this place as I was.
The elevator ride down was silent, filled only with the hum of the machine and the soft beeping as we passed each floor. When the doors opened onto the parking garage, I was struck by how different the air felt—less antiseptic, more real. Even the recycled garage air was preferable to the hospital’s atmosphere.
Section C was toward the back of the garage, where luxury vehicles were parked in the spaces designated for VIP patients and their families. I could see Celeste’s sleek silver BMW waiting in the distance, but what caught my attention was the familiar figure being escorted toward a black SUV on the opposite side of the parking area.
Kai.
Even from this distance, I could see the careful way he moved, still leaning to his left side where the silver blade had pierced him. Luna Helen walked beside him, her hand hovering protectively near his elbow without actually touching. No matter how cold Luna Helene seemed to be, she was a good mother and I knew that.
Our eyes met across the parking lot. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just that connection between us. Hazel whimpered, longing for him. I could feel her pain through our link, not just physical but emotional—the same ache that had been tearing at me when I remember we cannot be together until we find a solution.
Without thinking, I raised my hand in a small wave. It was a simple gesture, but it carried all the words we couldn’t say: I’m okay. I’m here. I’m not giving up on us.
Kai’s response was just as subtle—a single nod that somehow conveyed everything I needed to hear: I see you. I’m fighting for us. This isn’t over.
Then Luna Helen was guiding him into the SUV, and the nurse was pushing my wheelchair toward Celeste’s car, and the moment was broken. But it made me feel warm.
“Thank you,” I told the nurse as Celeste helped me transfer from the wheelchair to the passenger seat. “For everything p>
She smiled kindly and wished me a speedy recovery before wheeling the chair back toward the elevator. Celeste settled into the driver’s seat, adjusting mirrors and seat position and asked me several times if I was comfortable.
Finally, we pulled out of the parking space just as the black SUV carrying Kai disappeared up the exit ramp. I watched until its taillights vanished, then settled back in my seat, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my chest.
We drove in silence for several minutes, navigating through the city traffic toward the pack house. The familiar streets looked different somehow—more vibrant, more real—after days of seeing nothing but hospital walls. I found myself discovering details I’d never noticed before: the way afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees lining the road, the careful arrangement of flowers in storefront planters, the easy interaction between pack members going about their daily lives, completely unaware of the curse that haunted their Alpha and his would-be Luna
“Don’t think so much about it,” Celeste said finally, breaking the quiet. Her voice was gentle, understanding. “Soon, you’ll be able to be with your Kai. The curse won’t last forever p>
I nodded, still staring out the window at the passing scenery. “I know. It’s just… hard. Seeing him but not being able to p>
“To touch him,” she finished when I trailed off. “To comfort him. To be comforted by him p>
“Yeah,” I whispered.
Silence settled over us again, but this time it felt more comfortable and less strained. Celeste understood better than most what it meant to have a mate—the bone-deep need for connection, the way separation felt like a physical wound.
We’d almost reached the pack house when Celeste spoke again.
“Did you speak to your uncle before leaving the hospital p>
I turned from the window to look at her. “Yes p>
“How did that go?” she probed, glancing at me sideways while maintaining most of her attention on the road. “He seemed… intense when I met him in the hallway three days ago p>
That was one way to put it. I considered how much to tell her, thinking about Uncle Tobias’s warnings about the Shadow Council. The conversation with him as always had left me feeling lost in my own identity.
“It was complicated,” I said finally, which was both true and completely inadequate.
Celeste made a small sound of acknowledgment but didn’t push further. She had always been respectful of boundaries, never demanding information that wasn’t freely offered. It was one of the things I appreciated about her—her ability to provide support without being intrusive.
But as we pulled into the long driveway leading to the pack house, I found myself reconsidering. Celeste was more grounded than Kai, less likely to be driven by protective instincts to make impulsive decisions. She might actually be able to help me make sense of Uncle Tobias’s revelations, or at least provide a perspective that wasn’t filled by panic or ancient prophecies.
As soon as we passed the security gate, I decided to tell her. I needed to tell someone anyway, and Celeste was probably the best choice available.
I turned to face her. “Do you know anything about the Shadow Council p>
I felt her freeze for a second before she slammed on the brake pedal so hard that my seatbelt locked, jerking me forward against the restraint. The car skidded to a halt in the middle of the driveway, screeching so hard that the sound echoed. The hazard lights came on too.
“What did you just say?” Celeste demanded, her knuckles white where they gripped the steering wheel. Her face had gone completely pale, and I could smell the sharp spike of fear in her scent—not just surprise, but genuine terror.
“The Shadow Council,” I repeated, now thoroughly alarmed by her reaction. “My uncle mentioned them. He said they were p>
“Don’t,” she cut me off. She looked around frantically, as if expecting someone to jump out of the trees lining the driveway. “Don’t say that name. Not here. Not anywhere p>
“Celeste, what’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly feeling anxious in response to her obvious panic. “It’s just a name. Uncle Tobias said p>
“Your uncle should have told you that you cannot mention their name carelessly,” she interrupted again. “And you should never have repeated it out loud. Names have power, Lily. Especially their name p>