Light of the Dawn | Azriel |

31. Holding on

Azriel stood at the edge of the room, his heart in his throat as he watched Isarella's still form. The bed was soaked in blood, a stark contrast to the pale, fragile skin of his mate. Bandages were wrapped around her, but they couldn't hide the destruction. His entire world was crumbling before his eyes. She was dying again. The thought hit him like a physical blow—like a brutal punch to the chest. She always did this. Always risked everything—her life, her safety—so that others could live. And no one, no one, ever did the same for her. It wasn't fair. His heart ached, raw with the weight of helplessness, of watching the love of his life teeter on the brink of death once more. He could feel the pressure building in his chest, as if it, too, were in danger of cracking under the strain.

Around her, everyone stood in tense silence, the air thick with fear. Her chest rose and fell, too slow, too shallow, each breath a fragile thread holding her to this world. And yet, every time her breath faltered, every time her body grew too still, Azriel could feel it in his soul. It was only a matter of time. The hopelessness settled in like a cold weight that sank deep into his bones.

The door opened with a soft creak, and Madja entered, her face tight with concern. The moment she spoke, Azriel's stomach dropped. "We all need to talk." It was a sentence that sent dread flooding through him, an unspoken warning that whatever followed would break something inside him even more than he thought possible.

His eyes never left Isarella, her body so still, so broken, yet her spirit—her spirit—had always been fire. But now... now it seemed as though it was dimming, flickering out.

"Isarella is not only fighting for her life," Madja continued, pausing. She shifted her gaze toward Azriel, locking eyes with him. And in that moment, Azriel's world seemed to fracture, because the words that came next would change everything. "She's pregnant."

The world went silent. The words hung in the air, vibrating with their unspoken weight. Azriel's legs went weak, and he took a slow step back, his chest tightening in an agonizing squeeze. He couldn't breathe. His vision blurred as his mind struggled to make sense of the words—pregnant? No... she couldn't be. His legs gave way, and he slid down the wall, his body crumpling in on itself as silent tears began to streak down his face. His thoughts were a whirlwind, each one more painful than the last.

She's pregnant. She's carrying our child. And she's dying.

He couldn't process it. His body shook uncontrollably, his chest heaving with each silent sob. His heart—the heart that had already been shattered so many times before—was now breaking into a thousand jagged pieces.

Madja didn't look at him as she continued, but her voice was gentle, carrying with it the weight of the truth she was delivering. "She's walking a thin line. Right now, her body is in a state of rest... like a coma of sorts. She's too weak to wake, but she can hear you. She needs you all to stay strong for her."

Azriel didn't hear the rest. He couldn't hear anything over the sound of his own breath—ragged and shallow. Help her, he thought desperately. Help her and the baby.

Rhys's voice broke through the fog, desperate and pained. "What can we do? What can we do to help her and the baby?"

But Madja didn't know. Azriel didn't know. He didn't know what to do. His mind was paralyzed by grief and fear, his hands trembling as they gripped the floor beneath him. He had failed her. Again.

Madja turned to him, her expression softening with sorrow, and for a moment, Azriel thought she might reach out to him. But instead, she spoke quietly, words like a dagger to his chest. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

She left, but Azriel barely noticed. His world had stopped. His breath came in shuddering gasps, and his body shook violently on the floor, wracked with sobs. His heart broke in ways he didn't even know were possible—because it wasn't just his mate he was losing. He was losing the future, the family he had always dreamed of. And it felt as though he was being torn apart from the inside.