Chapter 2 It's my birthday too

Damon’s hands shake as he lays Elara gently on the bed. Her skin is cold, way too cold.

It doesn't make sense. Just minutes ago, she was laughing, her cheeks flushed from the crowd and the music and now, she feels like snow in his arms. Her head slips to the side, strands of her pale hair spilling across the pillow. He brushes them away with his fingers trembling.

They've spent everything, and it's not the first time she's fainted…still, the family is tired of this episode to the point they neglected her…the healers have confirmed she'll never be healthy again, so they just wait for the time.

But then, seeing her like this still drags a part of him.

“Come on, Elara…” he whispers while he is leaning close. “Open your eyes.”

He taps her cheek lightly but her skin doesn't move nor does it react.

“Please,” his voice breaks, the word catching in his throat. “Please, wake up.”

There is nothing left, only painful silence that hurts.

He could hear nothing but his heartbeat hammering. The crackle of the fireplace. The faint sound of laughter still drifting from downstairs which feels wrong and distant, like it belongs to another world.

Then the door flows open.

Kael storms in with his eyes wide and dark with fear. “What happened?” he asks.

“She… she fainted,” Damon stammers with his breath coming fast. “She just ...collapsed. I thought she was tired, but now she won’t wake up. I shouldn’t have let her push herself so hard.”

Kael crosses the room in two strides with his boots thudding against the floor. He places a hand on her neck, searching for a pulse but something makes his jaw tighten.

“She’s ice-cold,” he mutters. “Get the healers. Now.”

Damon didn’t move. For a moment, he just stares at her face. He stares at the faint colour still on her lips, willing her to move, to breathe, to do anything.

“Damon!” Kael’s shouts snapped him back.

He stumbled towards the door, voice breaking as he called for help.

A servant runs out of the room too, their footsteps echoing down the long hall until the sound faded. Kael grips the edge of the bedframe, trying to steady himself. His knuckles are currently white. He can not even look away from Elara. She looks so small, so fragile. She is too still. Too pale. Like if he breathes way too loud, she might break.

Then the door burst open again. This time Silas rushes in with his chest heaving and his eyes wild with fear.

“Is she…?” he begins to ask but the words die before they can leave his mouth.

Kael turned sharply. “Be quiet,” he snaps but his voice trembles. “She’s fine. Elara will be fine.”

Silas does not argue, he's the youngest brother. Instead he moves closer and sits on the edge of the bed and takes her hand in both of his. Her skin feels cold against his warmth. He rubs slow circles on her fingers as if that small motion could bring her back.

“Her fingers are freezing,” he whispers, barely moving his lips. He is afraid that saying it too loud might make it true.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the party limps on the laughter dulls and hollow music.

At the head table, Lora sits stiffly with her jaw tight enough to crack.

“She always ruins everything,” she mutters under her breath.

“Lora,” Rowan the third brother says softly with his eyes narrowing. “You don’t mean that, do you?”

“She does this every time,” Lora snaps with her voice sharp with jealousy more than anger. “Every time it’s supposed to be about me, she suddenly becomes weak. I should have known she would pull this tonight.”

Rowan’s tone hardens. “Your sister might be dying, Lora.”

Lora’s smile falters as the words hit her like cold water. “She always looks like she’s dying,” she mutters, almost to herself. “So she will be fine.”

But her hands are trembling when she lifts her glass.

Upstairs, the healers rush into the room with speed. One checks Elara’s pulse while another presses an ear to her chest. The third uncorks a small vial of glowing liquid; it smells sharp and bitter.

“Her heart is weak,” one whispers as he observes her.

“Then fix it.” Kael’s pacing grows frantic with his patience splintering.

“We’re trying, Alpha.”

“Then try harder!” he barks, his voice breaking on the last word.

Damon stands near the head of the bed with his fists tight at his sides. Silas doesn’t move instead he keeps holding Elara’s hand, rubbing slow circles against her icy skin.

“Come on, Elara,” he whispers with his voice cracking. “Please. Just open your eyes.”

And for a moment, just a breath, her chest rises.

Barely and then it stops.

The sound drains from the room. Even the fire seems to fade, its crackle dying into silence.

One of the healers looks up slowly with her face pale as moonlight.

“Alpha…” her voice shakes. “She’s gone.”

No one moves. No one breathes.

Kael’s hand drops to his side, limp and useless. His face is stone, but his eyes… his eyes look like something inside him just broke.

Damon stands frozen, staring at her face, waiting for some sign. Maybe a twitch, a breath, a miracle. Anything but nothing comes.

Silas lowers his head, pressing his forehead against her hand with his shoulders trembling. “She’s not gone,” he whispers, his voice cracking apart. “She’s still warm. Look, she’s still warm.”

No one answers.

One of the healers steps forward quietly, hands trembling as she lifts a white cloth. She hesitates for a long moment, almost as if she’s waiting for Elara to move then gently lays it over her face.

Silas doesn’t let go of her hand. He holds on tighter, like if he just keeps holding on, she might still come back.

Downstairs, the crowd feels it before the words reach them. The music falters and its laughter dies. Then a voice carries down the staircase Damon’s, hollow and trembling.

“She’s not breathing.”

A wave of whispers ripples through the room.

Lora shoots to her feet so fast her chair screeches against the floor. “She’s pretending,” she says, her voice cracking. “She just wants attention. She’s pretending!”

“Lora,” Rowan warns, stepping closer. “Stop.”

“She always...” Lora’s voice breaks. “She always does this.”

Then Kael’s voice cuts through from the landing above raw, final.

“She’s gone, Lora.”

The room falls into absolute silence.

Back upstairs, Silas still sits there, fingers entwined with Elara’s beneath the white sheet. Damon stands by the window, eyes rimmed red. Kael doesn’t move at all frozen like the house itself.

The regret could be heard eve

n in the silence.

The Hale family has lost their quietest member

the one they never truly saw until she was gone.