211
Tony
Sitting at Ginevra’s bedside in the sterile, antiseptic hospital room, I felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. The harsh, fluorescent lights overhead cast a clinical pallor over everything. It felt like I was just waiting for her to die. The doctors had been in and out, running tests and examining Ginevra, but their expressions had grown increasingly somber, mirroring my own feelings of dread.
Finally, another doctor came in. A middle-aged woman with a wealth of experience approached me with a sympathetic smile. Her presence was comforting, but her expression was heavy.
She didn’t have a single good thing to say, I could tell.
“Mr. Chance,” she began gently, “we’ve conducted numerous tests, consulted specialists, and reviewed Ginevra’s medical history, but we’re facing an unusual situation here. Her condition is not improving, but it’s not deteriorating either. It’s as if she’s stuck in a sort of stasis.”
I nodded, my brow furrowing as I tried to process the information. Stasis? What did that even mean? My knowledge of supernatural ailments and their treatment was painfully limited. It had become increasingly apparent that I knew absolutely nothing about medicine, not even supernatural medicine, or how the system worked to get her medical records transferred.
She went on to explain the baffling aspects of Ginevra’s condition. All I understood was that she was still internally injured, but she wasn’t dying yet, either. With each word, I felt my confusion deepen. My voice trembled as I ventured to ask questions that had been nagging at me.
“But... isn’t there anything you can do? I mean, she’s a werewolf.”
She winced. “Well, she’s not... exactly a werewolf. The virus is present in her body, but it’s not integrating with her body the way it should.”
“The bite... didn’t take. Shouldn’t she be dead already?”
“That’s the strange part about it. It’s there in her bloodstream enough to be tested and identified.” The doctor exchanged a knowing glance with her colleague before replying, “We’ve observed that her healing abilities are indeed active, but they’re not working as they should. It’s as though there’s a barrier preventing her from fully recovering.”
I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Would she have been better off dying from her cancer or the wounds rather than this? I had bitten her during the transformation, hoping it would save her life. Instead, it seemed to have unleashed a new, unexplainable set of complications.
“Then, what?”
As the doctors discussed potential treatments and theories, I listened with a heavy heart. They didn’t know anything for certain, and there was nothing I could tell them that would help at all. I wished I was back in my office, just worrying about what I was good at-- spreadsheets, corporate dealings, and business decisions.
My mind raced with questions, but I didn’t want to burden the doctors further with my lack of understanding. It was clear that there was nothing they could say that would make me understand what was happening.
Ginevra wasn’t dying. She wasn’t living. She was just stuck.
If only I had known more, if only I had understood the supernatural world better, perhaps I could have prevented this.
I always thought the bite either turned or killed. This was much worse.
Still, dwelling on guilt and regret wouldn’t help Ginevra now.
The sterile, white hospital room felt like a suffocating cage, closing in on me from every side once the doctors left again. I felt trapped, and the only thing I could really do was stay here by her side.
The door opened and revealed our nanny, her face etched with worry.
I set my jaw. I didn’t want to see her. I didn’t want to talk to anyone from Blue Moon aside from Matt.
Matt? I tried again, but I couldn’t feel him, and he hadn’t answered any of my texts. He said he was going to go get clothes and be back. It had been hours at this point. Blue Moon was far, but how much longer would it be?
“Have you seen Matt?” I asked.
“Not today.”
I swallowed. Had he really gone to get clothes, or had he lied to me?
“Why are you here?”
Her voice was tense as she began, “Tony, I need to talk to you about the pack’s finances.”
My lips twitched. It hadn’t even been a week yet. Already?
She sat beside me. “They’re slipping. Cline doesn’t know how to manage money or the investments?”
“Was that a question?”
“I don’t know what they are, but I know you do. It’s getting serious.”
My patience was stretched thin, and my response came out sharper than intended. “Let him be alpha.”
“What?”
“Oren.”
“Tony--”
“You all wanted him to be alpha again. Loved it. Basked in it, then let him worry about how to keep you all fed. Let him be alpha.”
“But, Tony--”
“It’s not my problem, and I’m not Oren’s beta,” I stared at Ginevra’s pale face. “I wouldn’t be, not even if he asked.”
A tense silence hung in the air between us as the words settled. Our nanny, loyal to the pack and committed to its well-being, wouldn’t back down so easily.
She retorted, her voice laced with frustration, “Tony, you can’t just wash your hands of this. You have a responsibility to the pack.”
“Do I?”
“We’ve looked up to you and Matt as alphas-in-training.”
I felt my patience wearing thin, fatigue gnawing at the edges of my resolve. “In training?”
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, taking in her shocked expression as if she could believe I would tell her no. Normally, I wouldn’t, but it was different now.
She had betrayed me, Matt, and my son, by letting Oren do this to Ginevra.
“Well, here’s a lesson for you: training over.”
“Tony--”
“Regency: done.”
“You’re being--”
“We’re done. Oren is your alpha, isn’t he? Then, let him handle it.”
“Alpha has more important things to do than worry about meaningless numbers on a screen!” She cried.
I tilted my head. “Then, let him hunt for meat. Start a garden. Heard sheep and make your own clothes when the money runs out.”
She paled, and her jaw set. My gaze narrowed, and my frustration boiled over.
“Where does your loyalty lie, anyway?” I demanded. “Where has it ever lay?”
Her response was unwavering, her words a stark reminder of my place in the pack’s hierarchy. “I’m always loyal to the alpha of the pack, Tony. That’s how it’s always been.”
I couldn’t help but press further, a bitter truth surfacing. “Have Matt and I ever been alphas in your eyes?”
Her response was blunt, leaving no room for interpretation. “Oren will always be alpha of the Blue Moon Pack until he steps down.”
I smiled. “Then, let him be alpha until he’s ready to step down--”
“Tony--”
“Don’t come here to me wanting the benefits of our leadership and being unable to let go of his.”
“It’s far more complicated than that. Tony, you and Matt were too young then. You’re still too young, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still serve the pack, serve alpha, and--”
“Eliza,” I said firmly. She gasped. The tension in the room was unbearably thick. I was running out of any fond feelings I’d once had for her. “Get out.”
She went pale as she stared at me. Then, the door opened. He had a bag slung over his shoulder. He looked pale and shaken. His eyes were full of turmoil even as he smiled.
“I tried to go for the comfy stuff. No suits, I’m afraid.”
I eyed the bag and felt a sense of relief. It had been from the house, tucked in the back of my closet from school.
Matt hadn’t lied to me.
I still could trust him, even if things weren’t the same as they once were.
Eliza turned to him, her voice pleading.
“Matt, you have to talk to Tony. He’s your brother.”
He cocked an eyebrow and closed the door behind him.
“About what?” He asked, looking between us, his eyes narrowed.
“About managing the pack finances. We--"
“No.”
Matt’s words felt like cool water rushing over me after baking in the sun. Matt was on my side still.
“What?”
“I’m not going to ask Tony to pick up Oren’s slack.”
“Matt, you will address alpha properly--”
“You can address him however you want,” Matt said. “I don’t have to do a damn thing.”
“What about the kids?” She shrieked. “You really want them to starve? You--"
“Oren is alpha,” Matt said. “Cline is his beta. You want the menace and the de fact luna status. You want his cock--”
“Matt--”
I smirked as Matt went on.
“You want his attention and menace? You want to feel important, then you do that, but that means dealing with whatever that means. Going back into debt-- living on scraps--going back to hunting three to five times a week and eating whatever is left at the end.” He narrowed his eyes. The dark circles seemed even darker, but they made his eyes seem brighter, like they were glowing, but not with their usual light but with something else. Maybe it was a trick of the light.
“You should get to work on placating your alpha. Maybe bear him some children, and you’ll get an extra cut of meat when he deigns to hunt for you.”
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