Chapter 3 She's dead

Elara’s room smells like sorrow, like even the walls are mourning for the loss of a quiet, cheerful soul.

Silas still sits beside her, her cold hand clasped tight in his. He hasn’t stopped whispering her name, over and over, as if the sound alone could call her back.

“You promised you’d just watch the party,” he murmurs, his voice cracking. “You said you’d stay close.”

Guilt bites at him, if only he knew… How can her last wish be just to see a birthday party? Her own birthday. It wasn't the first time their birthdays are celebrated, but in previous years, Lora has been the centre of the story…while Elara is hidden in her room.

Damon stands near the door with his head bowed and his body tense. His fists clench and unclench, restless, helpless. “We should have… not let her,” he says, stopping himself mid-sentence. His eyes flicker toward Kael. “We should have taken her somewhere better. To real healers, witches across the pack. To someone who…” he breaks off with guilt burning through his words.

On the other hand, Kael doesn’t move. He just stands there by the window with his arms crossed tight across his chest and his eyes fixed on the faint light outside. He looks like he’s swallowing words he can’t let out.

“I sent for the best healer, Damon. You know that,” he says finally with his voice low. “There was nothing more to do. I did what I could.”

Silas lifts his head, his eyes wet and tired. “You don’t get to say that,” he says, voice shaking. “You didn’t even see her. You never saw her.” His voice cracks, anger spilling through the grief. “All of you were so busy being strong that you didn’t see her fading right in front of us.”

Kael turns from the window with his jaw tight. “You think I don’t know that?” he growls.

No one answers. They don't dare.

Damon exhales shakily and steps closer to the bed. His fingers tremble as he pulls the sheet down just enough to see Elara’s face again. “She looks like she’s sleeping,” he whispers.

Silas’s shoulders fall. “She’s not, Damon,” he says, and his voice breaks completely. “She’s not. Who sleeps with their body this cold and stretched? She doesn't look like this whenever I come to watch her sleep.”

Kael closes his eyes with his hand pressing to his mouth. The silence stretches until it hurts.

Then, almost too soft to hear, Silas says, “She hated quiet rooms. She said they made her feel forgotten.”

Kael looks up at that with his eyes glassy. “But that's exactly what we did to her, keep her in the very place she hated.”

Outside, the hall that once echoed with music is still. Guests stand in small groups, some whispering while some leave without a single word. The gold ribbons, the flowers, the candles, all of it feels wrong now.

Lora sits at the foot of the stairs with her fists twisting in her dress. Her eyes are red, but no tears fall. She just stares at the floor with her jaw tight.

Are her eyes because of her twin sister's death?

No, instead jealousy makes its way into her heart.

“It’s not fair,” she murmurs. “She always gets everything. Even now... everyone’s looking at her.”

Rowan, who is currently standing beside her, turns sharply to look at her. “You really don’t get it, do you Lora?”

Lora looks up, frowning. “She’s gone, Rowan. She’s gone, and you’re all acting like she was some kind of saint.”

“She was your sister,” Rowan says with his voice rising. “And you treated her like she didn’t exist, at least feel the pain of losing your twin, Lora.”

Lora flinches for a second, and her face softens for a while. Guilt flickers, maybe but she forces it away and says, “I didn’t mean..”

Rowan doesn’t wait to hear the rest of what she has to say. He just shakes his head and walks off, leaving her alone on the stairs.

Back upstairs, the brothers gather around Elara’s bed one last time. Kael moves closer, finally kneeling beside her. He reaches out, brushing a strand of silver hair away from her face with his trembling fingers.

“I should have taken you to the sea like you asked,” he says quietly. “You wanted to see it once before you turned eighteen and I said no.” His voice cracks and he presses a hand to his face. “You always said you didn’t mind, and I believed you. You never complained… not once.”

Damon looks away while Silas can’t even breathe. The room feels colder now with the candlelight dimmer.

One of the servants steps forward with a white sheet and covers her completely. The sight of it breaks something in Silas. He lets out a quiet sob then another, until he’s shaking.

Kael stands slowly with his voice rough as he announces “We’ll hold a burial tomorrow.”

But his reply gets no reply as no one answers. They just leave her there covered, exactly the way the dead are supposed to be left.

Hours pass and the Hale house grows darker with the night sinking deep. Downstairs, the brothers sit together in silence, each trapped in his own thoughts.

Silas stares at the empty glass in front of him. “If I had just kept her in her room…”

“Don’t." Damon cuts him off. "She wanted to see the party. You did what she wanted, that made her happy.”

“But she wanted to live,” Silas says quietly. “That’s all she ever wanted.”

Kael doesn’t speak. He just stares into the fire jaw set. “I’d give anything,” he says finally, barely above a whisper. “Just one more chance to make it right.”

The flames crackle while no one moves.

Then, suddenly, the front doors creak open. The sound of footsteps echoes through the hall.

“Who’s there?” Kael asks as he looks up first.

No answer.

The wind slips through the doorway, carrying a faint, unfamiliar scent that was something sharp and wild.

Damon stands with his instincts flaring. “It’s late. No one should be here nor should you.”

The shadow of a tall man crosses the threshold. His presence is heavy, commanding and it seems the air itself bends around him.

Lucien Veynar steps into the light.

The rival Alpha.

The last person any of them expected to see tonight.