Chapter 121

Olivia

Nathan and I waited for what felt like hours. More than once, we considered leaving, allowing Alvin to have the space to discover his newly formed hand on his own without an audience. But ultimately, we decided that it was best to stay with our friend.

After a long time, Alvin’s eyelids finally fluttered open, revealing a mixture of confusion and anger. Nathan and I, still standing by the bedside, instinctively took a step back. Nathan put his arm out in front of me as a shield.

“What did you do to me?” Alvin rasped, his gaze darting between us. He struggled to push himself up onto his elbows, still weak from the potion that I gave him. “You… You poisoned me.”

“Not poisoned,” Nathan said, shaking his head. “We just needed to put you to sleep for a little while. I’m sorry, Alvin, but you’ll understand why if you just—”

Alvin’s eyes, filled with betrayal, narrowed and fixed themselves on Nathan. “It was you who snuck into my house the other day, wasn’t it?” he growled. “Fuck. I knew someone was in here.”

I forced a reassuring smile. “It's okay, Alvin. Just...” I hesitated, choosing my words. Finally, I pointed. “Look at your hand.”

Alvin’s eyes slowly trailed to where I was pointing. The silence was almost unbearable, save for the soft tick-tocking of an old grandfather clock somewhere down the hall.

I watched as Alvin’s eyes widened and he began to flex his newly regenerated fingers, touching them as if to make sure they were real.

“What…” he murmured, sitting up fully now. “How did you…”

Nathan cleared his throat. “We... found a way. We brought it back,” he said softly, each word holding a hint of hope, wanting Alvin to be grateful. “That was why we broke in. To look for your severed hand so we could make you whole again.”

Alvin's face paled as he continued to stare at his hand, and then slowly, he looked up at us, his gaze hardening. “You shouldn’t have done this,” he whispered.

Confusion clouded my thoughts. “We thought this was what you wanted,” I stammered. “We wanted to give you back a piece of yourself.”

Alvin's eyes filled with tears, but they were not tears of joy. His lips began to shake, and his face started to flush a deep shade of red. “You don’t get it," he said, his voice breaking. “You don't understand the weight of what you’ve done.”

Nathan’s face reddened as well. “Understand?” he hissed. “We risked everything to help you. I… I had to lie to the Council so they wouldn’t euthanize you for running around and scaring the shit out of people. How can you be so ungrateful?”

Alvin sat up, his posture tense. “Ungrateful? I never asked for this. I had made peace with my loss. If the Council wants to euthanize me, then let them. It’s not up to you to decide my fate.”

“Peace?” Nathan chuckled wryly. “Do you call going on rampages and scaring innocent people half to death every night ‘peace’?”

“I’m not going on rampages,” Alvin said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing to his full height. He was a little taller than Nathan, but thinner and more ragged. I couldn’t decide if it made him look more or less frightening.

“Look,” Alvin said quietly, “I’m sorry that I scare people. But I can’t help the way that people see me. I swear, I’m not bothering anyone—”

“People have reported you chasing them,” Nathan said, his voice low.

There was a silence, eventually broken only by Alvin’s tense voice.

“People lie,” he muttered. “Just because I’m missing a hand, and I limp, and my wolf form is bigger than normal—they see me as a monster. But I’m not.”

I stepped forward. “Alvin, I believe you,” I said. “But wouldn’t restoring your hand help to remedy the way that people see you?”

Suddenly, Alvin whipped around to face me, his eyes burning with anger. “Restoring my hand helps nothing,” he said, his voice so low it was hardly more than a throaty growl. “It was my loss. My choice. You think I don’t know that there are ways to restore it?”

Nathan's voice rose, incredulity evident in every word. “So you would rather live your life broken and incomplete?” he asked.

Alvin glared at Nathan. “You have no idea what it’s like. The hand wasn’t just a part of my body. It was a reminder. A scar from the past that I alone had to bear.”

The tension between the two men crackled in the air. I felt torn, understanding Alvin's sentiment but also wanting to defend Nathan's intentions.

Trying to mediate, I stepped forward, placing my hand on Alvin’s shoulder. “Alvin, we only wanted to help you, to ease your pain. Can't you see that?”

He shook off my hand violently. “I never wanted your help,” he spat out, eyes flitting between the two of us. “I wanted to remember, to remind myself every day of the price I paid. And now, thanks to you two, even that has been taken from me.”

Nathan clenched his fists, his voice shaking with anger and pain. “So, you’re saying we made a mistake? After everything we’ve done, everything we risked? You're just going to push us away?”

Alvin’s voice boomed, a deep anger resonating in each word. He almost seemed to grow as he stood in front of us, and his eyes flashed with fury. “Get out!” he barked. “Both of you! And don't you dare come back!”

Stunned, I could feel the weight of tears forming. I froze.

Nathan’s hand found mine, and he began to pull me toward the door. “Come on, Olivia,” he said, his angry eyes locked with Alvin’s. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t resist this time. Without another word, Nathan and I hurried out of the room and down the stairs. The house, which had seemed welcoming in its darkness when we first entered, now felt like an oppressive tomb.

Once outside, I lost control, sobbing uncontrollably. I turned to Nathan for solace, for some sign that we hadn't made a huge mistake. “Nathan—”

But instead of offering comfort, he seemed lost in his own storm of emotions, distancing himself with each step. He said nothing, and instead turned in the direction of the villa and began to walk stiffly toward the sanctuary of home. The only comfort I had was his hand still holding mine firmly.

The walk back to the villa was silent save for the gravel crunching under our feet and the occasional broken sob escaping my lips. The dark sky seemed to mirror our moods, an expanse of clouds blotting out any trace of the moon.

After what felt like an eternity, the villa with its gentle lines and warm glow from within finally came into view. For our wounded hearts, it was a beacon of hope. But as we set foot inside, it felt colder somehow, emptier.

I didn’t know what I was thinking before then. That Alvin would realize how much he cared about us once we restored his hand? That he would come back to the villa with us, and we would spend the night talking and laughing together, just like old times?

“Well, Olivia?” Nathan asked, slowly turning to face me in the dim light of the foyer. “Was that everything you ever wished for?”