Chapter 0275
Zachary
I don’t trust him.
Something’s off about that guy.
He says he knows things about Lycans and Rogues.
Total bullshit.
I mutter under my breath, but Isabella isn’t listening.
Her focus is entirely on Julian.
He’s connected to every machine imaginable.
She stays by his side all day, watching for the smallest sign.
Hoping for something that isn’t there.
The machines are the only thing keeping him alive.
Turn off the ventilator, stop the heart monitor, and it would be over.
But she can’t accept that.
Not with all her medical knowledge.
Maybe she just won’t let herself believe it.
Dark circles shadow her eyes from lack of sleep.
Her lips are dry and cracked.
She hasn’t touched any food I bring her.
Not even her favorite ice cream.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she whispers, clutching Julian’s lifeless hand.
“We promised to stick together.
To protect each other.
And you had to go and ruin everything.”
A tear traces a path down her cheek.
“Why couldn’t you just accept it?”
“Isabella, he can’t hear you.”
“You don’t know that!” she snaps, her voice sharp.
“He might still wake up.”
Even Alexander knows it’s hopeless.
“You need rest,” I insist.
I have to get her out of this room, even for a little while.
“I can’t leave him.”
“He won’t be alone.
I asked Theodore to sit with him.”
“It has to be me.
If anything changes—”
“Theodore will link you immediately.
This isn’t healthy.
You need sleep.
Food.
You’re no use to him if you make yourself sick.”
I press harder, hoping she finally understands.
Her dark eyes meet mine.
“I can’t, Zachary.”
“You’ll just be in the packhouse.
You’re not abandoning him.”
She sighs and slowly pulls her hand from Julian’s as Theodore enters.
“Promise me, Theodore,” she pleads.
“If anything happens—a twitch, a change in the machines—you’ll tell me.
Please.”
“Of course,” he nods.
He takes her seat beside Julian, and I still have to gently pull her away.
Alone with me, she finally lets the tears fall freely.
In bed, she allows me to hold her, curling against my body.
I hope my presence can ease her pain, even just a little.
She cries into the pillow, sobbing like I’ve never seen before.
As someone like me, you learn that death is inevitable.
It’s the one certainty in life.
We’re born, and we die.
What happens in between is up to us.
My own death doesn’t scare me, but the thought of losing my mate does.
The worst part is feeling everything she feels and not being able to fix it.
Only one person could, and he’s being kept alive by machines.
She finally cries herself to sleep.
Her eyes are puffy, her cheeks flushed from wiping away tears.
But she’s asleep, and I want to keep her that way, at least for a while.
I carefully slip away, watching her for a moment to make sure she doesn’t wake.
A soft snore escapes her lips.
She’s out, and she won’t wake for hours.
The house is quiet.
I find Athena sitting on the front steps, a deep frown on her face as she watches Lucas practice some form of martial arts.
“Alexander?”
“He took the boys and Charlotte to Sebastian’s parents.”
“Is that safe?”
“They miss their grandsons—the ones they thought were theirs.
Alexander thought the kids might cheer them up.”
“And he left him here alone?” I gesture toward Lucas.
“That’s all he’s been doing for the past hour.”
“You volunteered to watch him?”