The cottage door slammed shut behind Julian, leaving me alone with my grief again. I stared at the crumpled blue dress on the floor, identical to the one he'd bought Isabelle. Just another reminder that my daughter had always been second best.
My legs gave out beneath me. The room spun as my vision blurred. The weight of the past three days—of holding myself together while planning my five-year-old daughter's funeral alone—finally crushed me.
"Violet," I whispered, my fingers reaching toward her urn on the mantel.
But the mantel seemed miles away now. The cottage walls tilted sideways. My body felt impossibly heavy, like someone had replaced my bones with lead. Dark spots danced before my eyes.
I heard the door open again.
"Forgot something?" I meant to sound bitter, but the words came out slurred and weak.
Julian's annoyed voice seemed to come from underwater. "Aurelia, I don't have time for—"
Then nothing.
***
Julian's POV
I'd barely made it to my car when my wolf suddenly howled in alarm. The primal part of me sensed something wrong with my mate. Irritated by the distraction—Natalie was waiting—I turned back toward the cottage.
"Aurelia, I don't have time for—" The words died in my throat.
My mate lay crumpled on the floor like a discarded doll. Her face was ashen, lips almost blue.
"Aurelia!" I rushed to her side, anger instantly replaced by panic.
She didn't respond when I shook her shoulder. Her skin felt cold and clammy beneath my touch.
"Stop this," I growled, convinced it was another of her manipulations. "I know you're faking."
But even as I said it, my wolf whined anxiously. This wasn't fake. Her heartbeat was thready and erratic. Her breathing shallow.
I gathered her into my arms, shocked by how little she weighed. Had she always been this frail? This thin? I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually touched her.
My phone rang—Natalie again. I silenced it without answering.
Cradling Aurelia against my chest, I carried her to the small bedroom. Dust covered most surfaces, but the bed was made with fresh sheets. How long had she been planning to leave me?
I laid her down gently, then called Dr. Samuel Thorne, the pack's most senior physician.
"She collapsed," I said tersely when he answered. "Get to the old Monroe cottage. Now."
While waiting, I paced the small room, glancing repeatedly at my unconscious mate. Her chestnut hair spread across the pillow like a halo, making her look young and vulnerable. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her cheekbones jutted sharply beneath pale skin.
When had she gotten so thin? Had grief done this to her, or had she been wasting away for longer?
Dr. Thorne arrived quickly, medical bag in hand. After a cursory greeting, he bent over Aurelia, checking her vitals with practiced efficiency.
"How long has she been unconscious?" he asked.
"About fifteen minutes," I replied, hovering nearby. "We were... talking. Then she just collapsed."
Dr. Thorne raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on my obvious omission. He continued his examination, frowning deeply.
"When did she last eat?" he asked.
I hesitated. "I don't know."
"Sleep?"
"I'm not sure."
Dr. Thorne's disapproval was palpable as he continued working. Finally, he straightened up.
"Alpha, your mate is suffering from severe exhaustion, malnutrition, and dehydration," he said bluntly. "Her body has simply shut down. From what I understand, she's also experiencing profound grief."
I stiffened. "Dr. Thorne, not you too. Violet is—"
"Dead, Alpha," he interrupted, something no one typically dared to do. "I signed her death certificate myself three days ago. I performed the final examination. I prepared her body for cremation."
A cold sensation washed over me. Dr. Thorne was many things, but never a liar.
"That's not possible," I said, my voice hollow.
Dr. Thorne's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Alpha. It's very possible, and it's true. Your daughter passed away at 2:17 PM on Monday."
Monday. The day Isabelle received her kidney transplant. The day Natalie had insisted I stay with them for the procedure and recovery. The day Aurelia had called me seventeen times, each call ignored because Natalie said Aurelia was just being dramatic as usual.
"No," I whispered. "There must be some mistake."
"There's no mistake." Dr. Thorne began unpacking an IV kit. "Now, I need to get fluids into your mate before her condition deteriorates further. She'll need round-the-clock care for several days at minimum."
I watched numbly as he inserted the needle into Aurelia's arm, connecting it to a bag of clear fluid. Her skin was so translucent I could see every blue vein beneath.
"I'm also prescribing a nutritional regimen and sedatives to ensure she rests," Dr. Thorne continued. "And Alpha Julian? She needs psychological support. The loss of a child is devastating, especially under these circumstances."
I narrowed my eyes. "What circumstances?"
Dr. Thorne paused, choosing his words carefully. "Your daughter died waiting for a kidney transplant that never came. A kidney that was mysteriously reallocated at the last minute. Luna Aurelia was with her. You were not."
His words hit like physical blows. I wanted to roar at him, to deny everything, but my wolf whimpered inside me, recognizing truth when it heard it.
"I'll return tomorrow to check on her," Dr. Thorne said, packing up his bag. "She shouldn't be moved for at least forty-eight hours. And Alpha? I strongly suggest you come to terms with reality. Your mate and daughter have suffered enough."
After he left, I sat beside Aurelia's bed, staring at her face. Had she really been telling the truth? Was Violet truly gone?
My phone buzzed again. Natalie had called twelve times and sent twice as many texts. The latest read: "Julian, where are you? Isabelle is asking for you. She needs her daddy."
Not her daddy. The words echoed in my mind. Isabelle wasn't my daughter. But Violet had been. And if what Dr. Thorne said was true...
I silenced my phone completely and stayed by Aurelia's side.
***
I jerked awake sometime after midnight, disoriented. I'd fallen asleep in the chair beside Aurelia's bed. Something had woken me—a sound.
Aurelia was thrashing in her sleep, the sheets tangled around her legs. Her face contorted in obvious distress.
"No, please," she moaned. "Please save her."
I leaned forward, uncertain what to do.
"Violet, baby, hold on," she continued, her voice breaking. "Daddy's coming. He promised."
A knot formed in my throat.
"Julian, please answer," she begged in her sleep. "She's dying. Your daughter is dying."
Her words painted a horrific scene. Had this really happened? Had I really ignored her calls while our daughter slipped away?
"Code blue," Aurelia whimpered. "No, no, no!"
Tears streamed down her face, soaking into her pillow. Her body convulsed with sobs.
"My baby," she cried. "Give her back to me. Please give her back."
Something cracked inside my chest. My fingers trembled as I reached out to touch her tear-stained cheek.
"Aurelia," I whispered.
She didn't wake, trapped deep in her nightmare.
"The kidney," she murmured. "It was hers. It was for Violet."
My blood ran cold. What was she saying?
"Natalie, how could you?" Aurelia's voice hardened even in sleep. "You stole her chance. You killed my baby."
I froze, my hand still against her cheek. Surely this was just a nightmare, the product of grief and desperation. Natalie would never do something so monstrous. She couldn't have.
But doubt had taken root. I remembered Isabelle's sudden, miraculous match after months of waiting. The timing—the very day Violet supposedly died.
Aurelia's tears continued to fall, wetting my fingers. Without thinking, I wiped them away gently. The moment my skin touched hers, our mate bond flared to life, stronger than I'd felt it in years.
Pain. Grief. Betrayal. Rage. Her emotions flooded through me with such intensity I nearly doubled over. This wasn't fake. This wasn't manipulation. This was raw, primal agony.
As if drawn by an irresistible force, I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers, tasting the salt of her tears. The kiss was meant to comfort, to soothe.
But the moment our lips met, something else ignited. Desire, hot and unexpected, surged through me. My wolf howled, recognizing its mate, demanding more.
My hand cupped her face as I deepened the kiss, unable to stop myself.