Chapter 146: A Grieving Heart
Chapter 146: A Grieving Heart
Vivian’s POV"I’m older than I look, Luna," he said, still staring fixatedly out the window as if he were deeply afraid to look me in the eyes. "I’ve seen what black magic does. I’ve watched wolves completely destroy themselves trying to mess with dangerous things far beyond our understanding... but when it comes to death... there’s always a steep price to pay."
His broad fists clenched tightly at his sides, and through my heightened lycan senses, I could hear the sharp grinding of his back teeth. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, hammering like it was desperately fighting against the tragic truth trying to escape his mouth.
Black magic. Just hearing the sinister term made my skin prickle with uneasy chills. I didn’t know much about dark arts only quiet whispers, terrible horror stories, and strict pack warnings. It was more than enough to know it was deeply dangerous, dark, and twisted. And using forbidden magic to escape death? That was like playing a deadly game of tug-of-war with the ancient gods themselves.
"Who was she trying to save?" I asked softly, already terrified of the answer.
He hesitated just long enough for my breath to catch in my throat, and then he said, his voice almost too soft to hear, "Our son."
My heart sank like a heavy stone dropped into freezing water.
They had a child. Albericus and Aurora... they had a son together.
And they lost him.
I couldn’t breathe for a long moment, the crushing weight of his confession hitting me hard in the chest. The profound grief lingering in Albericus’s aura wasn’t fresh, but it had clearly never healed. No wonder his loud laughter had always felt a little too forced sometimes. No wonder his cheerful smile always had quiet moments of hidden pain behind it. He had been carrying this unbearable tragedy all along.
I immediately pictured myself in his place imagining me and Zaliver, holding a sweet child of our own, and then... losing them to the shadows. I nearly choked on the sudden rush of agonizing emotion. My beast whimpered softly inside my mind, while my wolf growled protectively. The mere thought alone was completely unbearable. The sheer pain of losing a child... and a mate? It would utterly destroy me.
"Did it work?" I asked quietly, barely able to push the trembling words past the thick lump in my throat. I knew I shouldn’t pry any further, but hope is a cruel thing. It clawed relentlessly at my heart, wanting needing some kind of miraculous outcome for him.
Silence filled the room.
His heavy breathing slowed down.
My heart broke all over again.
I could smell it in the air before I even saw it the sharp, bitter scent of deep sorrow too heavy for one person to hold inside. He turned around very slowly, a single tear slipping silently down his pale cheek. His green eyes stayed tightly shut, as if the memory itself was far too painful to witness again. His entire muscular frame was trembling violently, as if the massive effort to stay upright was becoming too much to bear.
And then, he dropped directly to his knees.
"No," he whispered, his voice cracking wide open into a raw, gut-wrenching sob that echoed mournfully through the living room.
Tears streamed freely down his face now, and through our newly forming connection, I could feel every single ounce of his shattering agony as if it were my own.
I knelt on the floor beside him without a second thought, gently placing my hand on his broad shoulder. There were simply no human words powerful enough to soothe this profound kind of loss. But I stayed right there with him silent, steady, and present as his cries filled the quiet room.
And the only thing I could offer him was my unconditional presence.
Because sometimes, that’s all we truly have left to give when everything else has been stolen away.
People always say that comforting a broken person is hard, but to me, the truly difficult part is being the brave one who breaks down in front of others. Letting someone see you like that torn wide open, vulnerable, and stripped completely clean of all your defenses takes far more courage than people ever give credit for.