I glance at my uncle and nod firmly, before announcing to the room, “I will do it. I will go through with this ritual.”
Conan scoffs. “If you do it, it means the rest of us have to do it, too,” he observes with a frown.
“Do you have any other options, Conan?” I ask, to which he turns to Heinrich.
“So, you’re fine with this, too?”
“I don’t see how anything can go wrong,” Heinrich says with a sigh.
“We all have to undergo those rituals, don't we, Amos?” Heinrich directs the question to the head of the research team.”
Amos nods. “Yes. That is the point. But if Alpha Damian would like to go through with it first, we'll be able to understand the ritual better with a tested theory.”
Hearing that this is only a theory doesn't faze me in my determination to save my people. “Well, I am ready to test the theory,” I declare.
“Well, good thing I’m not the test dummy for this,” Conan snickers as he leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Good luck, Damian.”
While I maintain a composed expression, internally, I’m grieving the end of a memory I will now have to bury for good. Perhaps it’s about time, and I just hope my heart complies soon enough. I might need some of that luck Conan wishes for me, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of telling him so.
“Are you sure, Alpha Damian?” Amos asks, and I nod.
“I’m sure, Amos. Prepare for the ritual tomorrow night. If this is what Red Moon and the valley need from me, then this is what I will do.”
Uncle Joel, who’d taken a seat on the Valley Wolf Council when I turned eighteen and lost my father, nods at me, despite a careful look of introspection in the way his eyes are slightly narrowed. He knows why I’m offering to go first, and why it isn’t out of the ordinary for me to be on the frontline of every war the valley wolves face.
I’ve had nothing to lose since losing the one thing that would have been worth fighting for. But I had to lose her when I couldn’t protect her anymore. And maybe that’s why this is for the best, so I can move on.
If I can ever move on from her.
Chapter 2 - Sophie
“Thank you, sweetheart,” the older lady says with a warm smile as I check her vitals again. Even though I already have them written down in her file, the second check is for good measure.
“No need to thank me, Mrs. Walter,” I return as I lift my eyes from the monitor. “I’m just doing my job.”
“And if it wasn’t for you doing your job, I’d probably be dead,” she titters under her breath, sighing as she closes her eyes and leans into her pillow.
She’s unaware that her words have caught me off guard, freezing me on the spot as I watch her lying obliviously on her hospital bed. I’ve heard those very same words before, and I fell into a trap because of them.
It’s not like Mrs. Walter has any ulterior motives or that she’s trying to reel me in with the bait of sweet words. She doesn’t have eyes as deep as the ocean, or a smile so charming that it could melt stone.
It’s simple thanks from an older woman whose blood sugar levels were alarmingly high when she was rushed to the hospital. With careful observation and care, I’ve been keeping her stable for the past three days, even weaning her off a high dose of insulin that has adverse side effects in the long run.
She’s just grateful. That’s all.
That’s what I have to keep telling myself, even when I leave her to rest and head to the staff room to pack my things away after my shift. It’s what I have to chant like a mantra in my head to hang on to my sanity, lest I hear his voice ringing out.
“Hey, Sophie! Wanna join us?” Allison, a fellow nurse, comes out of the bathroom, pointing to the door just as another colleague, Jess, walks in.
“Yeah, we’re getting drinks at Brewing,” Jess continues as she takes off her badge and hangs it behind the door. “But we’re stopping over at my place first.”
Allison giggles as she picks up her handbag. “We need to get all dolled up, and Jess’s wardrobe needs to be raided.”
I giggle nervously as I find my favorite spot on the couch by the window overlooking the town. Warm yellow lights illuminate the streets below, covering the town on a Saturday night with a certain sense of comfort and peace. People can be seen moving around; lovers holding hands, friends headed to the local bars. But for some reason, I can’t seem to find joy in any of those frivolous things.
Perhaps it’s because tomorrow is a Sunday, and I’d rather be doing everything I can to distract myself in the confines of my bedroom, instead of places I’d visited with Damian.
“You guys go ahead,” I say with a playful, dismissive wave. “I’m gonna go home and sleep. I have double shifts tomorrow.”
