Chapter 15 Grief, Guilt, and Goodbye
Aelira’s POV
“It’s off,” I say again, the words crisp and icy, steadier than I expect as
Alarion’s voice spikes with outrage, his composure unraveling. “W clutch the phone in my shaking hand.
ceremony! The guests-”
do you mean ‘off‘? You can’t just cancel our mating
“My mother is in emergency surgery right now,” I interrupt, my anger boiling over, raw and volcanic. “And you’re worried about the guests?”
Daelor stands beside me, silent but fiercely present, his silver–gray eyes never leaving my face, anchoring me through the
storm
“Aelira, be reasonable,” Alarion pleads, his tone shifting into that infuriating, practiced softness he always uses when he wants to manipulate. “We can complete the ceremony quickly, then visit your mother together.”
The gall of it stuns me, momentarily stealing my breath. “You left me. On our ceremony day. For Cyrinne.”
“She attempted suicide!” he protests, his voice sharp with defensive desperation.
I let out a bitter laugh that tastes like poison. “Did she? What was it this time–another ‘overdose that somehow didn’t need her stomach pumped? An ‘accident‘ that leaves her miraculously unscathed, again?”
“She’s hospitalized, Aelira,” he insists, clinging to his narrative.
“Of course she is.” I close my eyes, struggling to keep my grief from swallowing me whole. “Tell me, Alarion–was her timing just as convenient as always, or did you actually plan this together?”
A sharp, wounded inhale. My words have found their mark
“That’s insane. How could you even think-
“My mother is dying!” I scream, my voice ragged and wild, echoing down the sterile corridor. “She collapsed when she heard Cyrinne’s voice on your phone. She’s fighting for her life while you were comforting your ‘childhood friend.”
“Aelira,” he tries again, pleading now, “just come back. We can fix this. I’ll apologize to your mother when she recovers-”
His careless ‘when‘ is a dagger. He has no idea. He cannot fathom how close to the edge everything truly is.
“Your place is here,” Alarion presses. “As my mate. As Luna. The ceremony-
The doors swing open with a crash. Dr. Leyric emerges, his face carved from stone.
“I have to go,” I whisper, and disconnect before Alarion can say another word.
I attempt to stand. Pain explodes in my ankle and I stagger, but Daelor is already there, his arm anchoring me, helping me limp toward the doctor.
“How is she?” I gasp, dread squeezing every word from my lungs.
The look on Dr. Leyric’s face is answer enough. “We need to talk, Ms. Sunmere. And I need your signature for some emergency procedures.”
A nurse appears, her face carefully blank, offering a clipboard. “Your mother’s condition is critical. We need your authorization for additional intervention.”
My hand shakes so fiercely I can’t even hold the pen. The reality of it all comes crashing down on me–my wolf whimpers inside, curling protectively around my unborn child, both of us keening with fear.
“Aeliral” My brother’s voice slices through the noise.
Jorhic barrels down the corridor, his face tight with panic. Oriana trails after him, her dress wrinkled, eyes red and swollen.
“What happened?” Jornic demands, taking in my soiled ceremonial gown, the ruined shoes, and Daelor’s solid presence at my back.
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“Mother collapsed,” I choke out, my voice splintering. “During the ceremony. She–she heard
I can’t finish, Fresh tears spill down my cheeks, hot and helpless
Jornic’s jaw hardens, his gaze flicking from my face to the clipboard. Without asking, he snatches it from my hands and scrawls his signature, fierce and angry.
“This is your fault,” he hisses, his fear burning into blame. “If you hadn’t married that selfish Alpha-”
“Enough,” Daelor cuts in, sudden and sharp, his Alpha aura pulsing through the corridor. His eyes, hard as steel, pin Jornic in place. “Your sister is not responsible for her mate’s choices.”
“If you need someone to blame,” Daelor goes on, voice cold and precise, “look to Alarion Riven. He’s the one who left his Luna for another woman on their mating day.”
Dr. Leyric clears his throat, breaking the tension. “If I could speak with the family privately?”
He leads us into a cramped consultation room. The harsh fluorescent lights glare off sterile white walls, intensifying the sense of emergency. Jornic and I sit side by side, Oriana hovering nervously behind us. Daelor stays just beyond the threshold, his presence a silent promise.
Dr. Leyric settles opposite us, his face drawn, eyes heavy. “We did everything we could,” he begins, and my world stops
His voice becomes distant, a drone of medical jargon and hopeless explanation. The only thing that reaches me–the only thing that matters–is the truth: my mother is dead.
“No,” I breathe, shaking my head, denial flooding every cell. “No, she can’t… she can’t be….”
Jornic’s face crumples as the news lands, his anger dissolving into grief. He grabs my hand, squeezing it like it’s the only thing keeping him afloat.
“The blood loss was extensive,” Dr. Leyric says, gentle but unyielding. “Her condition–her system was too fragile. I’m
sorry.”
Darkness blooms at the comers of my vision, I hear Jomic calling my name, feel Oriana’s hands clutching my shoulders, but their voices seem to come from under water, unreachable.
“Aeliral” Daelor’s voice, slices through the fog, urgent and commanding.
Then–blackness.
I wake to the antiseptic sting of hospital air, the harsh glare of fluorescent lights overhead, My wolf’s senses recoil at the chemical tang. The ceiling is strange, unfamiliar; the sheets stiff beneath my fingers.
“She’s awake,” Oriana says, her voice thick with exhaustion and sorrow.
I turn my head, find her sitting beside my bed, eyes rimmed with red, her body slumped with fatigue.
“Mother?” I rasp, but I know already.
Oriana’s eyes glisten. She shakes her head.
The truth crashes in, and my grief tears me apart. I curl into myself, sobs wracking my body until I am nothing but pain and longing. Memories of my mother–her laughter, her frailty, her endless faith in me–collide with the knowledge that she will never hold her grandchild, never see me become Luna, never again call my name in joy.
The future she dreamed for me has died with her.
need to see her,” I gasp, forcing myself upright despite Oriana’s protests. “Please–I have to say goodbye.”
Oriana helps me up, keeping a steady arm around my waist as my legs threaten to buckle. I am still in my ruined ceremonial gown, the headdress mercifully gone.
We shuffle slowly down the corridor, pain flaring in my ankle with every step. As we near the room where my mother lies, I spot them–Alarion and Elysande Riven, deep in quiet, urgent conversation.
Something inside me snaps. I surge forward, rage lending me strength.
(Chapter 15 Grief, Gult and Goodbye
“You,” I snarl, voice raw, unrecognizable. “You did this.”
Alarion turns, startled by the sight of me–blood–stained gown, tear–streaked face, grief and fury blazing from my eyes. “Aelira, I came as soon as I heard-”
The crack of my palm against his cheek is thunder in the hallway. The shock in his eyes only fuels the fire harder, my hand stinging.
I hit him again,
“My mother is dead because of you!” I shriek, my wolf howling through me. “She’s gone because you couldn’t stay away from Cyrinne for even one day–our day!”
Alarion’s eyes blaze, his cheek flushed red with my fury. “I was already on my way when you called! What happened was an accident!”
“An accident?” The word is acid in my mouth. “You left our mating ceremony for her!”
“I never meant for this–Cyrinne only answered because I was driving. I pulled her hair by accident when I grabbed the phone–that’s why-”
“Why it sounded like you were fucking her?” My voice drops to a lethal hush. “While my mother listened?”
Elysande steps between us, her face stricken. “Aelira, please, not here-
There’s no place or time that makes this right,” I hiss, raising my hand again, trembling with rage.
My wolf rises, savage and uncontained, as Alarion’s own wolf answers, his face contorting with pain and guilt. He reaches for my wrist, but before he can touch me, another hand clamps down on his arm–unyielding, punishing.
I slap Alarion again, the sound ringing out like a verdict.
