Lies Beneath the Moonlight Chapter 11
Three days passed.
Kane didn’t leave my side. He slept in the chair by my bed, his head tilted back, his mouth slightly open. He ate the hospital food – gray meat and lumpy potatoes – without complaining. He held my hand when the pain got bad. He read to me from a book he found in the healing house library, some old romance novel with a cracked spine and yellow pages.
My mother came and went. She brought me clean clothes, my favorite tea, a photograph of my father that I kept on the bedside table. She and Kane didn’t talk much, but I saw her watching him. I saw the anger in her eyes soften, just a little.
On the third day, Vivra came.
She wasn’t alone. The Alpha King walked beside her, his face hard as stone.
They stood in the doorway of my room. The King’s eyes swept over me- the IV, the bandage, the gray skin – and his expression didn’t change.
“Kane,” he said. “Come home.”
Kane didn’t stand up. He didn’t let go of my hand.
“No,” he said.
The King’s jaw tightened. “You have a bonding ceremony to prepare for. You have a mate who is carrying your child. You have responsibilities.”
“I’m canceling the ceremony.”
Vivra gasped. “Kane -”
“I’m sorry, Vivra.” Kane’s voice was steady. “I should have never said yes. I was lonely and drunk and broken, and I used you to fill a hole that no one else could fill. That wasn’t fair to you. You deserve better.”
“Better?” Vivra’s voice cracked. “I’m carrying your pup, Kane. Your pup. And you’re throwing me away for her?” She pointed at me, her finger trembling. “She’s dying. She’s going to be dead in a month. And then what? You’ll be alone. You’ll have nothing.”
“Then I’ll have nothing,” Kane said. “I’d rather have nothing with her memory than have everything with yours.
The Alpha King stepped forward. His face was purple with rage.
“If you do this,” he said, “you lose everything. Your position in the pack. Your rank. Your future. I’ll have you stripped of your title and banished from the North.”
“Then banish me,” Kane said. “I don’t care.”
Vivra stared at him. Her eyes were red. Her lips trembled.
“Did you ever love me?” she asked. “Even a little?”
Kane was silent for a long moment. Then he shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “No.”
Vivra closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek. Then she turned and walked out.
The Alpha King followed her. He paused at the door and looked back at Kane.
“You’re a fool,” he said. “And when she’s gone – when you’re alone with nothing but her ghost – you’ll regret this.”
He left.
Kane didn’t move. He just sat there, holding my hand, staring at the closed door.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I whispered.
“Yes, I should have.”
“She’s carrying your child.”
“I’ll take care of the child. I’ll pay for everything. I’ll visit. But I won’t bond with her. I won’t pretend to love her when my heart belongs to someone else.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him he was making a mistake. But I was too tired. And maybe – just maybe – a small, selfish part of me was glad.
That night, my fever came back.
It started as a chill. I couldn’t stop shivering, even under three blankets. Then the heat came – a burning, all- consuming heat that made my skin feel like it was on fire.
My mother ran for the witch.
Kane stayed by my bed. He held my hand. He pressed cold cloths to my forehead. He whispered my name over and
over.
The witch came. She took one look at me, and her face went pale.
“The poison has reached her heart,” she said. “There’s nothing more I can do. I’m sorry.”
My mother screamed. Not words – just a raw, animal sound of pain.
Kane didn’t scream. He just held my hand tighter.
I opened my eyes. The room was blurry. I could see shapes – my mother’s dark hair, Kane’s broad shoulders, the witch’s gray dress.
“Mom,” I whispered.
She came to my side. She took my other hand.
“Thank you,” I said. “For everything. For staying. For never giving up on me.”
“Don’t talk like that,” she sobbed. “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to -”
“Mom. I love you.”
She broke down. She pressed her forehead to mine and cried.
Then I turned to Kane.
“Do you still have it?” I asked. “The moonstone?”
He pulled it from his pocket. The stone glowed faintly in the dim light – soft and warm, like a small piece of the
moon in his palm.
He pressed it into my hand.
“Moon’s tears,” I said. My voice was fading. “But we don’t need it. I was always with you. Even when me. Even when you pushed me away. I was always there.”
“I know,” he said. His voice was thick with tears. “I know.”
“Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Live,” I said. “Don’t waste the rest of your life mourning me. Don’t let this destroy you. Live.”
“I can’t -”
“Promise me, Kane.”
He closed his eyes. Tears ran down his cheeks.
“I promise,” he whispered.
I smiled.
you hated
I looked at the moonstone in my hand. Then I looked at him. I tried to memorize his face – the curve of his jaw, the line of his nose, the way his hair fell across his forehead.
I wanted to say so many things. I’m sorry. Thank you. I’ve loved you since I was fifteen years old. I’ll love you wherever I go next.
But I was too tired.
I closed my eyes.
The last thing I felt was his hand in mine. Warm. Solid. Holding on.
Then nothing.
