Chapter 221

Olivia

Laying Nathan gently on the cold asphalt, the beam of the moonlight above painted him in a ghostly blue pallor. The weight of our dire situation settled over me like a suffocating fog, and for a fleeting second, the entire world was reduced to the rhythmic rise and fall of Nathan’s chest.

Or rather, the lack of it.

“Nathan?” My voice trembled, barely above a whisper. I lowered my ear to his chest, desperately seeking the comforting thud of his heartbeat.

Silence greeted me. The chilling stillness of his chest and the ominous quiet threatened to drown out every rational thought.

My heart lurched, and a sharp, cold panic seized me.

Memories of emergency procedures I had learned long ago during my training flashed through my mind. Laying my hands on his chest, I began to push down, compressing his ribcage with firm, steady thrusts.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision, but my determination never wavered.

“Breathe, Nathan. You have to breathe,” I sobbed, voice fraught with desperation.

After what felt like an eternity, I felt the faintest rush of air brush against my cheek. He was breathing! A weak, shuddering inhale, but it was there.

Relief washed over me, intermingled with gut-wrenching terror for the ordeal was far from over.

It hit me then: our phones. Maybe I could call for help! But I quickly remembered that both of our devices had been mangled in the aftermath of the crash, their screens cracked and unresponsive.

We were truly, maddeningly alone.

I scanned the horizon. Trees and more trees, interspersed with the occasional flash of reflective road signs. We couldn’t stay here; the vulnerability was palpable, and there was no knowing how long it would be until someone drove by at this time of night.

The town wasn’t too far off, though. If I could just get us close enough, perhaps a passerby would see us. We’d be more likely to run into someone there.

The physical toll of my injuries coupled with the emotional strain of the evening made the prospect of moving Nathan daunting.

I missed my wolf—the primal strength she once lent me long ago, the way the world seemed so much more manageable through her fierce eyes. But that strength seemed distant now, like a forgotten dream.

Yet, there was no other choice.

Breathing deeply, I planted my feet firmly once more, sliding my arms beneath Nathan’s unconscious form. Every muscle protested, and my vision swayed with the effort.

As I managed to lift him up, my world reduced to the grunts of exertion, the rhythm of our labored breaths, and the singular goal of moving one foot in front of the other.

Despite the rawness of my wounds and the weariness in my bones, memories of our past adventures played in my mind, fueling my determination.

I remembered our first kiss beneath the shimmering canopy of stars, the sound of his laughter, and the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke of our future. These memories became my anchor, keeping me grounded when all I wanted to do was collapse.

The journey was slow and excruciating. Every so often, I had to stop, readjusting Nathan’s weight or catching my breath. But I refused to let despair creep in. With every step, I whispered words of encouragement, as much for Nathan as for myself.

“We’ve faced worse,” I muttered, recalling the time we were trapped in the forest in the middle of a hurricane and had to take shelter in the hollow of a large tree. “We’ve always made it through. This is no different.”

The weight of Nathan’s body bore down on me as I dragged us along the road. The jagged cuts on my hands stung with each gust of wind, but the burning sensation only reminded me of how much Nathan needed me right now.

I had to be strong, not just for him, but for our future. For our children, who were sleeping peacefully at home, unaware of our situation.

“Just a little more,” I whispered to myself, more as a reassurance than anything. The towering trees on both sides seemed to close in, dark and ominous, like they were conspiring to keep us trapped in their shadows.

My heart thundered, matching the rhythm of my footfalls on the ground.

I couldn’t go any longer. My knees buckled suddenly and I collapsed, more from sheer exhaustion than from the weight of Nathan’s unconscious body. My lungs heaved, and my vision blurred with tears and sweat.

There, on the cold asphalt, I whispered desperate pleas into Nathan’s ear. “Please, don’t leave me. Not like this.”

As if in response, a pair of headlights emerged from the curve of the road just a few moments later, their light casting elongated shadows across the gravel.

The car, a faded blue sedan, slowed down as it approached us, eventually coming to a full stop just a few meters away.

The door opened with a soft creak, revealing a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair. His eyes, hazel and sharp, quickly scanned the scene. “What the hell happened?”

“Oh, thank the Moon Goddess,” I gasped out, cradling Nathan’s head in my lap. “Please, we need to get to a hospital.”

Without hesitation, he jogged over and expertly slid his hands under Nathan, lifting him with surprising strength. “I’ve got him. Let’s move quickly.”

As he carefully placed Nathan in the backseat, the dim overhead light illuminated his face, revealing a web of scars that spoke of a life of hardships. But his eyes were kind, and in that moment, they were my anchor to sanity.

“You coming, Miss?” he asked, looking at me with a mixture of concern and urgency.

I tried to stand but faltered, my legs unsteady beneath me. The man reached out, wrapping a supportive arm around my waist. “I’m Derek,” he introduced himself.

“Olivia,” I managed, grimacing as I settled into the front seat beside him. “Thank you.”

He nodded, starting the car. The engine roared to life, and we sped off. The trees became blurry streaks of green and brown, and the night seemed to envelop everything beyond the reach of the headlights.

“What happened?” Derek asked, his voice even but laced with underlying anger.

“We crashed,” I whispered, feeling ridiculous as I said it. “There was something in the road. A wolf. Nathan…”

Derek gripped the steering wheel tighter. “We’ll get him to a hospital. He’ll be okay.”

But even as he said the words, I could feel my own strength waning. The adrenaline that had kept me going was dissipating, leaving me aware of every ache, every cut. I pressed my hand to my side, wincing as I felt the dampness of blood.

“You’re hurt too,” Derek noted, concern evident in his tone.

“It’s not important,” I insisted, even as I felt the wetness seep through my fingers. “We just need to get to the hospital.”

Derek shot me a stern look. “Both of you are my responsibility now. We’ll get there. Just stay awake.”

But the world was becoming fuzzy at the edges. The pain, once sharp and immediate, was now a dull throbbing, growing more distant with each passing second.

“We’re almost there,” Derek’s voice floated to me, sounding as though he was speaking from underwater. “Just a little longer, Miss.”

I tried to respond, to tell him I was okay, but my tongue felt heavy in my mouth. I turned to the backseat, needing to see Nathan. His pale face, illuminated by the occasional passing streetlight, was still.

Too still.

“Derek,” I whispered, my vision darkening, “promise me you’ll save him.”

The man’s voice, desperate and insistent, was the last thing I heard. “Stay with me, Olivia. Stay with—”

And then, everything went black.