Olivia’s POV
"No!"
I rushed to the bed, shoving a nurse aside with a burst of frantic energy. My hands slamd onto Lennox’s chest, and I let my power surge. "Wake up! Lennox, wake up right now!"
"Luna, please," the specialist said, his voice reaching out to through the fog of my panic. "His organs are too far gone. The cellular decay is too advanced. Your healing... it won’t work. You’re only draining yourself."
"Shut up!" I hissed, my eyes glowing a fierce, desperate gold. "He is my mate! He doesn’t get to leave like this!"
I poured everything I had into him. I channeled every bit of my light, my life force, and my love into his cold, still body. I could feel my own strength wavering, my vision blurring at the edges as I pushed past my limits.
Nothing.
The golden light flickered against his skin and died out. I tried again, my hands shaking so hard I could barely keep them on his chest. Again, nothing. His body was like a vessel with a hole in the bottom; no matter how much life I poured in, it just vanished into the dark.
"Please," I sobbed, the anger finally breaking into a million pieces. I collapsed forward, draping my body over his, my face pressed against his neck. "Lennox, please co back. I have so much to say. I didn’t an those things. I’m not ready. The boys aren’t ready. Please... don’t leave us."
The room filled with my sobs and the steady, terrifying sound of the machine beside him.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
I shook my head, refusing to accept defeat as I channeled my abilities into him again. What is the essence of being called a Special One? What is the essence of having this ability if I can’t bring back the man I love from the brink of death?
"Olivia, stop," soone pleaded behind . "You’re hurting yourself."
I didn’t care.
"I forgive you," I choked. "Do you hear ? I forgive you for everything. For the lies. For the pain. For all of it. Just—just open your eyes."
Still nothing. My power flickered, then failed completely. My hands went cold.
"No..." I whispered, my forehead dropping to his chest. "No... please."
I crawled onto the bed, wrapping myself around him, clinging as if I could anchor him to this world with my body alone.
"You can’t go," I cried into his shirt. "I still have so much to say. I still need you. Our children need you. I need you."
My tears soaked into his shirt as I shook. "I love you," I sobbed. "I never stopped. I was just scared. Please don’t punish like this. I can’t bear it."
Suddenly, the machine beside us began to slow.
Beep...
Beep...
A sharp alarm sounded.
"Luna, you need to step back—" the doctor shouted.
And then—the machine spiked.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Faster. Louder.
"Wait—" the specialist said sharply, rushing forward. "Check his vitals!"
I lifted my head slowly, my breath caught painfully in my throat. Lennox’s fingers twitched. My heart stopped.
"Lennox?" I whispered.
Lennox’s eyelids fluttered. It looked like an imnse struggle, as if he were dragging himself up from the bottom of a deep, dark ocean. Finally, they opened. His eyes were glazed and incredibly weak, but they found . They always found .
"O-Olivia..." he wheezed, the sound so faint it was almost a ghost.
"A miracle," the doctor whispered, checking Lennox’s pulse with trembling fingers. "He’s regained consciousness. I don’t know how, but he’s back."
I didn’t care about the ’how.’ I sank to my knees beside the bed, my hands framing his face as I showered him with desperate, tearful kisses. I kissed his forehead, his cheeks, and his sunken eyes.
"Thank you," I whispered against his skin, my voice thick with relief. "Thank you for not leaving. Not yet. Thank you for staying with , Lennox."
He couldn’t speak, but his hand moved fractionally, his fingers grazing my wrist.
The doctor placed the mask on him while I sat beside him. He was just staring at but didn’t speak. I asked, "Can you hear ?" and he batted his eyes. I frowned, sensing sothing was wrong.
The specialist ca forward and checked him; he sighed, then spoke to Lennox. "Alpha Lennox, can you move?"
Lennox batted his eyes, but he didn’t move. Not a muscle. Not even a twitch of the shoulder.
The doctor sighed as if knowing what was wrong. He asked, "You can’t move your body, right? Bat your eyes if I’m right."
Lennox did.
A single, heavy bat of his eyelashes. He was staring at with a look of absolute terror. He was awake, he was alive, but he was trapped inside a body that refused to obey him.
"He’s paralyzed," I whispered, the realization hitting like a physical blow. "He’s conscious, but his body is gone."
I swallowed hard and looked at the specialist. "Is this permanent?" I asked, my voice trembling.
The doctor turned away, his face filled with grim professional sympathy. He wouldn’t look in the eye, and that terrified more than the silence coming from the man in the bed.
"Luna," he began, his voice low and cautious. "I need you to understand the gravity of this. This isn’t a temporary numbness. The cancer has invaded the spinal column, and the shock of the cardiac arrest has effectively severed the communication between his brain and his nervous system. It’s not likely that he will move again... in fact, it’s highly unlikely he ever will."
"No," I snapped, my voice cracking. "He just woke up. You said it was a miracle. Miracles don’t co in halves."
"He is breathing because of the machines and the sheer strength of his will," the doctor continued, stepping closer to . "But his body is spent. You should... you should prepare yourself. He is awake, yes, but he is ’locked in.’ He can see you, he can hear you, but he is a prisoner."
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