Chapter 21
Zayron reached his pack and stepped out of the car, but nothing felt real.
The world around him was a blur, distant and meaningless.
The weight in his chest was unbearable, pressing down on him with every breath.
Everyone in the pack had heard he was unwell.
No one dared to come close. They only watched from a distance, their whispers carrying through the cold night.
Some looked worried. Others looked terrified.
But Zayron didn’t care.
Inside his chamber, he didn’t turn on the lights. Darkness suited him.
He sank to the floor beside his bed, his back against the cold wall. His knees were drawn up, his head resting between them. His arms hung loosely by his sides, too heavy to lift.
His thoughts swirled like a storm, crashing over him with no end. The anger, the pain, and the betrayal all consumed him.
The fire inside him didn’t burn out. It only grew stronger, roaring like an inferno he couldn't quench.
Cedric was gone. Isla was gone.
But was that enough?
No.
Zayron shook his head. The pain in his chest demanded more.
More blood. More suffering.
He wanted to see them all burn for what they had done. For taking away his world.
The revenge he had tasted today was not enough.
"It never would be," he thought.
Zayron fought so hard not to let tears drop from his eyes. His chest felt tight, his breath uneven, as if something heavy was pressing down on him, suffocating him from within.
But no matter how hard he tried to hold himself together, the pain inside him refused to fade.
Someone appeared at the door.
Zayron knew someone was standing there. He could hear the quiet breathing and the scent that lingered. But he was too weak to lift his head and too drained to care.
“Son,” Helena muttered under her breath. Her voice was gentle, but was filled with faith.
At that moment, Helena had already heard what had happened to her son. She knew what the werewolves believed, but deep inside, she refused to accept it.
She had so much faith in Kayla. She believed that Kayla wouldn’t let her son suffer until he died.
So she was sad, but not like someone who had lost all hope.
Helena moved closer and squatted in front of Zayron.
“Son,” she called again, softer this time.
Zayron refused to lift his head.
Helena reached out and placed a hand on his forehead, but Zayron shoved it away violently.
Helena’s heart ached at the sight of her son like this. She had seen him wounded before, had seen him bleed, but never like this.
This was a different kind of pain, one that went deeper than any physical wound.
Still, she wouldn’t leave him like this.
“Zayron,” Helena tried again.
This time, he lifted his head, and Helena almost wished he hadn’t.
His eyes were filled with fury, but beneath that rage was something far worse.
Severe brokenness.
Zayron stared at his mother and his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Helena, Kayla tells you everything. She must have told you she was going to Veridia. Why didn't you stop her?”
Helena frowned.
“She didn’t discuss such with me.”
Zayron let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.
“Of course she didn’t. Because you stopped calling her.”
“Helena, you used to call her every single day. If you had kept doing that, you would have known! You would have stopped her!”
Helena inhaled deeply.
“Zayron, Kayla is not…”
“No!” Zayron's voice rose and was rough with grief. “You let her go! You knew how dangerous Veridia region was last week!”
Helena’s lips parted, but Zayron wasn’t finished.
His fury had only begun to spill out.
“How did you forget everything Kayla did for you so soon, Helena?” Zayron asked.
This time, Helena couldn't hold back her tears. She let them flow down her cheeks.
“Helena, for years, you were drowning in blindness, but Kayla pulled you out! She brought back your sight! Without her, you would have been lost in darkness forever.”
“Zayron…” Helena tried to talk but Zayron wouldn't let her talk.
“And it wasn’t just that,” Zayron continued. “Kayla saved your life, Helena! Do you remember? Last year, you stopped breathing. You were gone. People gathered in the courtyard, waiting for me to announce your death. And then she came. Kayla brought you back.”
“Okay, now you need to stop talking!” Helena muttered under her breath.
“She is gone! She saved you, and you couldn’t save her?”
Zayron ignored his mother and continued talking.
“Zayron, listen to me.”
“Why did you let her die?” Zayron roared, pushing himself to his feet.
His breath was ragged, his whole body shaking.
“Tell me! Why?”
Helena stood up slowly, meeting his furious gaze.
“I didn't let her die! Kayla is alive, Zayron. Your pup is safe!” Helena said.
Even though she knew telling Zayron that Kayla was alive was like telling a man under a powerful spell to see reason, she just had to try.
“You dare insult me with lies, Helena?”
“No, I dare remind my son that grief has clouded his judgment!”
“If your mate were truly gone, Zayron, you would feel it. Your bond would be broken. But it’s not, is it?”
Zayron turned away from her and waved a hand dismissively.
“Leave,” he said. “I need to be alone.”
Helena lingered for a moment, watching her son.
She sighed, then turned and walked toward the exit.
From the window, Zayron stood motionless, his sad gaze locking onto a lone figure outside.
Kayla stood near the edge of the courtyard, a shawl draped over her head and wrapped tightly around her stomach, shielding her from the cold.
The wind whispered around her, tugging at the loose ends of her clothing, but she didn’t move.
She simply stood there, looking at him, her heart heavy with unspoken words.
If things were normal, Zayron wouldn’t have let her stand in the cold for even a second.
He would have pulled her inside, wrapped her in his warmth, scolded her for not dressing properly.
But now, he only stood there, distant, unreachable.
Her mind replayed every moment, the way he used to hold her as if he could shield her from the world, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her, the way his voice, even in anger, never made her feel unwanted.
But tonight, there was none of that.
There was only silence, only the unbearable weight of everything that had gone wrong.
Kayla’s fingers clutched the edges of her shawl as another memory surfaced, Zayron pressing his forehead against hers, whispering that he would always protect her, that nothing could take her from him.
But something had.
Not death, but despair.
And she didn’t know how to reach him anymore.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“Kayla.”
Ana’s voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present.
Kayla blinked and turned slightly.
“Did you come up with any idea on how we can make him drink the potion tonight?”