Chapter 85
Chapter 85 SAGE
Elara was almost done treating Titus' wounds. I decided to step out of the room for a while to get some water. I found Scott waiting outside as I stepped out of the room. "My lady, is His Majesty alright?" he asked, worried.
"He's going to be okay, Scott. Nothing to worry about," I replied
"How's your hand? Did you ask Elara to treat your wounds as well?" he asked.
As if on cue, Elara stepped out of the room where I came from and heard what Scott said.
"What wound?" Elara asked, frowning. "Did you get hurt, Sage?"
"No, I'm fine," I replied and tried to hide my hands behind my back.
"What are you hiding in your back?" Elara asked suspiciously.
"Nothing, really," I insisted.
She looked at Scott for confirmation. I squinted my eyes at Scott, warning him not to say anything to Elara. But it seems like he was more afraid of her than me.
"Lady Sage hurt her hand when she tried to break the silver cell bars. Aside from that, it was sharp as a knife, so the cuts must be deep," Scott finally admitted.
"You did what?!" Elara exclaimed. "Are you aware that silver is lethal to any werewolf? How stupid can you be?!" she yelled as she grabbed my hands that I was hiding on my back. But the frown on her forehead deepened when she saw my hand. She turned towards Scott with a confused look. "Does it look like it was wounded to you?" she asked Scott.
Scott frowned before his eyes widened in shock. "H-How did it?" But I swear I saw her blood drip along the bars when she was forced to widen it!" he insisted.
"Scott, I don't like you joking about this."
"I'm not lying!" he replied.
Elara's grip tightened around my wrists as she yanked my hands forward, inspecting them with fierce determination. Her eyes narrowed, and her brow furrowed even more when she didn't find the bloodied, battered hands she expected. Instead, all she saw were smooth, unmarked palms.
"What the hell?" she muttered, her fingers tracing over my skin as if searching for some hidden injury. "Scott, you said you saw blood."
"I did!" Scott exclaimed, still staring at my hands, disbelief etched across his face. "I'm telling you, Lady Sage was bleeding. The silver cut her. I saw it with my own eyes."
Elara huffed, clearly torn between irritation and confusion. "Well, there's not a single mark on her now. You don't just heal from silver, Sage, not without some serious magic involved."
I pulled my hands from Elara's grasp, stepping back as I tried to suppress the eerie sensation crawling up my spine. "Look, it doesn't matter. I'm not hurt. And to be honest, it wasn't the silver that wounded me; it was the sharp edges of the cell bars. I don't react to silver anymore, probably because I've already lost my wolf. Like I said, I'm more human now."
Elara's eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, her tone biting with frustration. "But humans don't heal from wounds that
fast either, Sage," she countered, her gaze flicking from my face to my hands. "You're healing at a speed that even most werewolves don't. You're more like an immortal than a human."
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I scoffed, the absurdity of her claim making me roll my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Elara. I'm as mortal as you are. I'm sure as hell I can die."
Her expression remained stern, clearly not convinced. "You've already defied more laws of nature than anyone I know. The fact that you broke through silver bars with your bare hands? Not even the strongest lycans can do that without severe injury. And now you're healing in minutes from wounds that should've bled for hours." She shook her head. "Something's happening to you, Sage, whether you want to admit it or not."
I opened my mouth to argue, but deep down, a small part of me knew she was right. Something had changed. Losing my wolf had left me feeling incomplete, and now I was... different. Stronger in some ways, yet fragile in others. It didn't make
sense.
But I wasn't ready to dwell on that now. Not with Titus still lying unconscious in the other room and the threat of the queen's forces still looming over us.
"I don't have time to play this guessing game," I muttered, brushing past her, my heart pounding as I tried to push the unsettling thoughts aside. "Titus is the priority right now. He needs us, and I won't waste another second on this."This is from NôvelDrama.Org.
Elara sighed, her frustration evident in the way she crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as she watched me. "Fine," she said, her voice tight with exasperation. "But once Titus is stable, we need to figure this out, Sage. You can't keep ignoring whatever is happening to you. It's dangerous, not just for you, but for all of us."
I didn't respond. I couldn't. My mind was already drifting back to Titus-his still, battered body lying in that bed, fighting some battle I couldn't see. My heart twisted in my chest. How could I focus on myself when he was suffering like that? I wasn't going to let my own confusion about whatever strange changes were happening stop me from saving him.
Without another word, I turned and headed back into the dimly lit room. Titus' form lay unmoving on the bed, his chest rising and falling ever so slightly. It pains me watching him like this.
I sat beside him and gently took his hand in mine. His skin was warm, but his grip was weak, his fingers barely responding to my touch. "Titus," I whispered, brushing my thumb softly across the back of his hand. "Please, just hang on. You're strong. You'll come back to us."
The silence in the room was deafening, only the faint sound of his breathing filling the space. Every second felt like an eternity, and yet I couldn't tear myself away from his side. eded him to wake up, to open his eyes, and to look at me with the fierce determination I knew so well.
But nothing came. No sign of life beyond the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The air around us felt heavy, almost suffocating. I glanced back toward the door where Elara stood, watching us quietly. Her face softened for a moment, and I knew she could sense my fear, though she said nothing.
"He'll pull through," she said after a long pause, her voice softer now. "He's strong. Stronger than any of us, even when
like this."
I nodded, though her words did little to calm the storm brewing inside me. Titus has been well known to fight through impossible odds before; many had witnessed his unmatched strength and willpower. But something about this felt different. Darker. I shook my head, refusing to let my mind spiral down that path again.
"He needs time to heal," Elara added, breaking the silence. "And you... you need to be honest with yourself, Sage."
Iclenched my jaw, not wanting to hear it. "I told you, I'm fine."
"No, you're not," she countered, stepping closer. "You're changing, and it's not just because you lost your wolf. There's something else at play here, something we need to understand before it's too late."
09:00 Fri, Oct 25 OG
I looked down at my hand-still clutching Titus' limp fingers. The memory of the silver bars bending beneath my grip flashed through my mind, a shiver running down my spine. But I couldn't let myself be distracted by that now. Not with Titus like this. "I'll deal with it later," I said quietly, more to myself than to her. "Right now, he's what matters."
Elara sighed again, but this time it was softer, almost resigned. "Alright," she murmured. "But don't wait too long, Sage. You might not have the luxury of ignoring it much longer."
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I didn't reply. Instead, I leaned down, pressing my forehead against Titus' hand, closing my eyes as I breathed in his familiar scent, hoping-praying-that somehow he'd hear me. That somehow he'd come back to me.
I felt a tear slip down my cheek, but I wiped it away quickly, refusing to give in to the fear tightening around my heart. He had to wake up. He had to.
And as I sat there, silently pleading with the moon goddess for his life. ver thought I would feel this way when the time comes that he is hanging on to his dear life. I thought I already vanquished all the feelings I had for him a long time ago. I promise to myself that I will never allow myself to be in this vulnerable situation again. However, it seems like the Moon Goddess has other plans.
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