Chapter 118

Almara’s Pov

The walls seem to be caving in. “Cathy, you don’t have to do that.” I step forward to stand next to her. No one else seems to object. I’m suddenly reminded again of how self-centered the Hurricane Pack can be, which I suppose is they got to the top in the first place.

I cast a helpless look at Arthur, hoping he’ll take the hint and speak up. Arthur looks saddened, but continues to stay silent. I can’t entirely blame him. He already said he would and wants to drink the potion, it’s Roman and Bess that won’t let him.

“What if it harmful?” I ask, knowing that if it is there’s nothing Cathy could do about it. Her well-being would be up to us.

As no other objections come in, Cathy insists. “It’s fine, really. There’s a lot more at stake here if Arthur dies. He has a child and wife to care for after all. I have no one” Cathy says with a shrug.

My voice gets stuck in my throat at her subtle admission to being less important than Arthur simply because of her lack of familial relations. As the reality of the situation settles, I’m hit with the realization that this is what it comes down to: potentially losing my husband, or my best friend.

“You will be taken care of, should anything happen to you dear.” Elenor says clutching the arm of the couch with wet eyes. “It will not go unnoticed this great risk you’re willing to take for our family.” Elenor looks at Roman and nods her head to confirm what she’s saying.

“Of course. Whatever the result shall be, the Hurricane Pack will be in debt to you.” Roman adds, and surprising doesn’t sound as business-formal as he usually does when he talks about trade. For once, Roman sounds something close to thankful.

I do have to admit, knowing that Roman has the resources to get Cathy and treatment she might require does help the situation. Though I’ll never admit it. In a way, I feel as though I’m comforting myself by secretly preferring that Cathy be the test subject than giving the potion to Arthur right away.

“Thank you.” Cathy says, though it really should be all of us on our knees giving her thanks.

Elenor rises from the couch with such a grace it’d never be known she was drinking the afternoon away. She crosses the room and hands Cathy the small bottle in one swift motion.

Cathy reaches her arm out and when her hand is grasped around the trinket, Elenor pulls Cathy in for a mother hug- surprising us all, including Cathy. Cathy’s eyes widen and then she hugs Elenor back. Just as quickly as it happened, Elenor releases Cathy and goes back ot the couch wiping her eyes.

Cathy uncorks the trinket, sounding a small pop that seems to be the only noise in the room as everyone holds their breath. I steal a glance at Robert who himself even looks concerned. It’s in that moment I realize he’s telling the truth.

Robert isn’t lying about the toxicity of this potion. He’s telling the truth that the real remedy lies within the tucked away knowledge of the vampires. This knock-off remedy I nothing but a twisted ploy set out to weaken the humans and werewolves in number.

“Cathy, no!” It’s as if everything is happening in slow motion, yet I’m still not quick enough. The small opening of the bottle is already pressed to her lips. A deep red, almost black liquid is passing through and I know it’s all too late.

Arthur comes to hold me as I nearly sink to the ground. “Robert was telling the truth.” I whisper to no one in particular, but soon enough that fact is made known.

Cathy drops the bottle mid-drink, for a moment all is till as a centralized ping of glass hitting hardwood sounds. Cathy makes a noise I’ve never heard before, somewhere between a choke and a gasp.

“I told you all.” Robert says, yet knowing this would happen he still sounds panicked.

“Call an ambulance.” Arthur tells his father forcefully.

“Already ahead of you.” Roman says with his phone up to his ear.

“Cathy, can you hear me?” I go to grab her arms, but she’s already fallen to the ground. She claws at her throat as if trying to tear out any liquid that might still be dripping down. Her eyes are bulging with fear, until they settle on the inevitable. Cathy is going to die.

“No!” I cry out as if I can argue with fate. I can sense Lily whimpering and howling in despair, and all I can do is the same. I look around the room, willing anyone to do something-anything.

Bess and Elenor stand holding one another, leaning on the other for support though both look as if they might collapse along with Cathy. Robert leans next to Cathy and draws near to her neck. I want to scream at him to get away, until I realize he’s checking for her pulse.

It takes me a minute to register that Arthur isn’t focused on Cathy who now seems to be laying peacefully on the floor, but instead is soothing me. Even with someone in more dire need of help, Arthur first makes sure that I’m okay.

“She’s going to be okay. I know she is.” I lean my head against his chest, forcing myself to stay present and to feel the softness of his shirt and the hardness of his muscles beneath it. I make myself believe his words. Arthur has never lied to me and he won’t start now.

“Her breathing is faint, but she’s breathing.” Robert says without a hint of foul-play in his voice.

Arthur kisses the top of my head. I shut my eyes, the pain becoming too much too bear. Arthur’s hand strokes my hair, luckily the thickness of my waves block out the iciness of his touch. It’s in that instance that what had happened was for the best.

Arthur has already been through so much. His body already in turmoil. If he had taken that potion there’s no way his body would have the strength to fight off the poison. What Cathy did was brave and necessary.

I take several deep breathes and turn to be more engulfed by Arthur’s embrace. Maybe it’s the intensity of events, or all the rest he’s been getting, or maybe it’s my wishful thinking but h feels stronger and I’m letting myself grip onto this. Weather it’s true or not.

Already, sirens wail in the distance. Then, unexpectedly a much louder noise erupts from overhead. A sort of chopping sound. Only the piercing cry of Grace is enough to cut through the roaring winds.

Arthur releases me and I follow him to Grace. He scoops her up and instantly she soothes. It never fails to amaze me the calming effect he has on her, on myself- even in the midst of chaos.

“That’s the helicopter.” Roman shouts. The deepest part of my heart has thawed just by that single sentence. Roman really is going to take care of Cathy.