Chapter 220

Olivia

Smoke still poured out from the remnants of our car, its twisted wreckage reflecting the torment of my heart. The witch stood nearby, her eyes cold as they watched me, but there was a flicker of something else—interest? Curiosity? I couldn’t quite tell.

“You can save him, you know,” she began, her voice eerily calm amidst the chaos.

Rage flared up inside of me in response to the witch’s cloying words. “I will never give you my daughter. Not now, not ever.”

The witch’s eyes darkened, the light of amusement extinguished. “That’s your choice, Olivia. But Nathan is dying. Can you, a wolfless woman, really get him to safety in time? Do you have the strength?”

My fists clenched, and an instinctual growl bubbled up from my chest. It was wild and raw, full of pain and defiance.

“I am stronger and tougher than I look,” I growled. “I don’t need my wolf to save my family. Now leave, before I find a way to make you.”

The witch’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Very well,” she purred, standing up a little straighter. “It’s your choice. Your lover’s life.” And with that, she simply vanished, her form dissipating into the shadows like smoke.

“Olivia…” Nathan's voice was weak, a mere whisper.

“Nathan!” I said, moving closer to him. Blood soaked his clothes, and his eyes fluttered open, only to quickly close again. I strained to hear him, his words incoherent, but dripping with desperation.

Tears filled my eyes, but I pushed them back. I couldn’t afford to break down now. Nathan needed me. I carefully placed my hands under him, trying to figure out how I could possibly lift him without causing more harm. Every second mattered.

He was heavy, far too heavy for someone like me to normally carry, but adrenaline and sheer determination fueled my every move. I managed to get him onto my back, his arms weakly draped over my shoulders. Every step I took was pure agony, my muscles screaming in protest and my mind foggy from the weight of our situation.

As I staggered through the woods, my legs threatened to give out multiple times. I stumbled and fell, the rough ground biting into my knees. But each time, I found the strength to rise, using trees or rocks to push myself upright. Memories of my family, of my children, and of happier times with Nathan kept pushing me forward.

However, the further I went, the more the weight of Nathan was pressing down on me, both physically and emotionally.

My muscles strained with each step, and the pain was starting to creep into every joint.

My shoe caught on a root, and I found myself tumbling down a slight incline, mud squelching under me. Nathan rolled away as I went sprawling face-first into the damp earth. For a moment, all I could hear was my own ragged breathing and the distant cry of a night bird.

As I pushed myself up, covered in muck, a memory washed over me…

I was back in our old house, the one with the white picket fence and the flowering rose bushes my mother had so lovingly tended to.

I was eight, and I had come home from school to find my mother sprawled on the back steps. Blood trickled down from a cut on her forehead. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with the vibrant red droplets that stained the ground.

The shock rooted me to the spot, but her frail voice broke the paralysis.

“Livvy,” she whispered, pain evident in her eyes as her trembling hand reached out for me. “Help mommy. I fell…”

Panic surged within me. Dad wasn’t home, and I was alone to handle this. The image of her fall played over and over in my mind—how she had missed a step, how her frail body was unable to break the fall due to her deteriorating strength from the cancer.

I pushed away my nausea and the rising fear of seeing my mother, the beacon of my world, in such a state. Focusing, I carefully approached, bending down to help her up. My small hands, those of a child not yet fully grown, did their best to support her.

It was a scene starkly contrasting to my current situation with Nathan. But the core of it—the love, the desperation, the need to protect at all costs—was the same.

My mom squeezed my hand weakly as I managed to get her inside and onto our worn-out sofa.

“Good girl,” she said. “Get the first aid kit… No, I don’t need to go to the hospital. I just need a few band-aids, that’s all.”

As I fumbled with our first aid kit, finding a cloth to clean the blood and a bandage to dress her wound, my mother’s hand stroked my arm. I still remembered the way in which her eyes, despite being clouded by pain, still held that familiar warmth and reassurance. I tried to blink back tears and steady my trembling hands, but it was no use.

“It’s okay, baby,” she said, offering a weak smile. “You’re brave. Just get out an alcohol wipe…”

As my mother guided me, I did as she asked. I pulled an alcohol wipe out of the first aid kit, wincing along with her as I dabbed at the gash on her forehead. I then pressed a square of gauze into the wound, and held it down with a large band-aid.

“See?” my mother asked, smiling. “You did such a good job. Thank you, Olivia. You’re my hero.”

That day, my mother, even in her vulnerability, had given me strength. She taught me that love could overcome fear, and that even in the direst circumstances, we had the power within us to rise above.

…The sound of Nathan’s shallow breathing brought me back to the present.

Pushing the memory to the back of my mind, I reached over to him, checking his pulse and taking a deep breath to gather my strength.

“If I could do it for her,” I whispered to myself, “I can do it for you, Nathan.”

With a newfound determination, I hoisted him back onto my shoulders. Every muscle protested, but the memory of my mother’s courage, combined with my love for Nathan, gave me the fortitude I needed.

The woods around me seemed to blur as I moved as fast as my weary legs could carry us, fueled by the singular thought that I had faced adversity before, and I would overcome it again.

The dark canopy above seemed to stretch endlessly, but after what felt like hours, the dense trees finally gave way to the open road. My heart soared at the sight, praying that a passerby would soon come along.

I gently laid Nathan down alongside the road, his face pale against the dim light of the setting sun. His breathing was shallow, each exhale a chilling reminder of how close he was to the brink of death.

“Stay with me,” I pleaded, brushing his hair from his forehead. “Please, Nathan. We’ve been through so much. Don’t leave me now.”

But he didn’t respond. His body was limp, his spirit somewhere far away. A sob escaped my lips as I pressed my face into his chest, listening for the faint but steady rhythm of his heart.

—————————————————————————————————————

My dear readers, Thank you for stopping by and reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it. I’m trying my best to update asap. I’ll appreciate it if you explore my other stories as well. Please follow my facebook page Caroline above story and group Caroline above story if you wanna chat or keep updated on my writing schedule.

Yours，Caroline above story