Chapter 241: A Wolf’s Farewell
(Celeste’s POV)
The healing grounds of Silver Creek territory were silent except for the soft sound of water dripping from the cloth in my hands. I knelt beside Matthew’s body, gently wiping away the
dried blood and dirt from his face.
His skin was cold under my touch. So cold.
“I can’t let his parents see him like this,” I whispered, more to myself than to Alexander, who
stood watching from the doorway.
My silver–scarred wolf whined deep within me, its grief matching my own. Each wound I
uncovered on Matthew’s body sent fresh pain through my chest. The silver–laced gashes
across his torso told of his final battle–a battle he fought for someone else.
I dipped the cloth into the basin of moon–blessed water again. The herbs infused in it released
their gentle scent, masking the smell of death that had begun to settle over him.
My fingers trembled as I cleaned a particularly deep wound on his shoulder.
“He fought bravely,” Alexander’s voice broke the silence, startling me.
I didn’t look up. “He always did.”
Working methodically, I moved to Matthew’s hands, wiping away the dirt and blood from his
fingers. These hands that had once held mine with such tenderness. Hands that had
promised to protect me.
“He saved twelve of my men,” Alexander continued. “Before…”
“Before he saved you,” I finished, still not meeting his eyes.
My wolf retreated deeper inside me, shielding itself from the pain. I focused on my task,
cleaning each wound with care, preserving what dignity I could for the wolf who had died
protecting his commander.
“This one needs stitching,” I murmured, examining a gash on Matthew’s forearm.
The wound would never heal now, but I couldn’t bear the thought of his family seeing him this way. I reached for the needle and thread Dr. Pierce had provided.
With practiced movements, I began to close the wound. The Sterling family would see their
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son whole, not torn apart by silvered weapons.
“They’ll want to see him,” I said softly. “His father, his mother, Emma. They deserve to say
goodbye properly.”
Alexander stepped further into the room, his ice–blue eyes following my movements.
+8 Points >
“Celeste,” he began, his tone cautious. “The journey back to Sterling territory will take days. In
this weather…”
I knew what he was implying. I’d thought of it too.
“The scent will attract rogues and scavengers,” he warned, his white wolf stirring with concern.
“It’s not safe, especially for you traveling alone.”
I finished the stitching and cut the thread before responding.
“I’ve already thought of that,” I said, setting aside the needle. “I spoke with Dr. Pierce before
you arrived.”
I reached for a small pouch beside me, opening it to reveal a mixture of dried herbs and silver–colored powder.
“Moon–blessed herbs and silver lime,” I explained, my voice calm but firm. “It will preserve his
body for at least two weeks. More than enough time for the journey.”
Alexander frowned. “Even so—”
“This isn’t a debate, Alexander,” I cut him off, my violet eyes finally meeting his. “I’m taking
Matthew home to his family. They deserve to mourn their son properly.”
I returned to my task, gently cleaning the last traces of battle from Matthew’s face. He looked almost peaceful now, as if he were merely sleeping.
But he would never wake again.
(Alexander’s POV)
I watched Celeste tend to Matthew’s body with a tenderness that twisted something inside my
chest. Her movements were precise, almost ritualistic, as if each careful touch was a final act
of love.
My white wolf urged me to step forward, to offer comfort, protection–especially after
witnessing her breakdown upon discovering Matthew’s death. The memory of her frantic clawing at my chest for the sachet still burned.
“I’ll accompany you,” I said, the words escaping before I could reconsider.
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Celeste’s hands paused momentarily before continuing their work.
+8 Points?
“No,” she replied, her voice steady. “Your duty is here. The corrupt officials who colluded with the rogues must be found and punished.”
She was right, of course. The Alpha King would expect a full investigation. Victor Hayes was just the beginning–there were likely others involved in the ambush that killed my men.
“The road is dangerous,” I persisted. “After what happened…”
“I can protect myself,” Celeste interrupted, still not looking at me. “I survived four years in
Moon Shadow Prison. I can survive a journey home.”
The mention of her imprisonment sent a flash of guilt through me. I had done nothing to help
her then, trapped by duty and position just as I was now.
Celeste finished cleaning Matthew’s body. She rose gracefully and approached me. Her violet
eyes, usually so expressive, seemed distant, as if she were already miles away.
“Return it,” she said simply, extending her palm.
I knew immediately what she meant. Slowly, I reached into my pocket and withdrew the
bloodstained sachet. I placed it in her outstretched hand, our fingers brushing briefly.
Celeste stared at the sachet, seeming to truly register for the first time how thoroughly it was
stained with Matthew’s blood. Her violet eyes reddened, and for a moment, I thought she might break down again.
Instead, she took a deep breath and composed herself, carefully tucking the sachet inside her
jacket, close to her heart.
“Thank you,” she said formally, as if speaking to a stranger.
I wanted to reach for her, to pull her into my arms as I had when we were younger, before
everything changed. But the barrier between us felt insurmountable now.
(Celeste’s POV)
Dr. Pierce arrived with the special preservative mixture as I finished dressing Matthew in clean
clothes. The healer moved with quiet efficiency, his experienced hands applying the solution
to Matthew’s skin.
“This will keep him until you reach the Sterling territory,” he explained, his kind eyes meeting
mine. “Apply more of the mixture each morning and evening during your journey.”
I nodded, memorizing his instructions. “Thank you, Dr. Pierce.”
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+8 Points >
“I’ve prepared the transport vehicle as you requested,” he continued. “The compartment is lined with silver–infused cloth. It will help maintain the preservation.”
Once Dr. Pierce finished his work, I gathered the basin of bloody water and cloths I had used. My hands moved mechanically, my mind detached from these simple tasks.
I carried the basin outside, walking past Alexander without acknowledgment. Though my eyes didn’t register him, my silver–scarred wolf was acutely aware of his presence, tracking his
movements as he followed me.
Outside, I emptied the bloody water into a patch of wolfsbane flowers growing at the edge of the healing grounds. The poisonous plants would consume the blood, preventing scavengers
from being attracted to the scent.
I knelt to clean the basin meticulously, scrubbing away every trace of blood. The cloth I had used to wash Matthew’s body would be burned–another wolf tradition to ensure nothing
remained to call his spirit back.
Alexander’s shadow fell across me as I worked, but I didn’t look up.
“Celeste,” he said softly.
I continued scrubbing.
“Celeste, please look at me.”
When I finally stood and turned to walk past him, his hand shot out, catching my wrist. His
touch sent an unwelcome jolt through my body.
“Let go,” I said coldly, my wolf bristling beneath my skin.
Alexander’s ice–blue eyes searched my face, hurt and bewildered.
“Do you blame me for his death?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable.
I stared at him, feeling nothing but a vast emptiness where emotion should be.
“Matthew chose to join your mission,” I replied, my voice flat. “He knew the risks. And you brought him back to me. For that, I thank you.”
I slowly pulled my hand free from his grasp.
“Dr. Pierce has prepared the herbs, and the transport vehicle is ready,” I continued. “I’ll leave as
soon as Matthew is dressed.”
My silver–scarred wolf had retreated deep within me, protecting itself from the overwhelming
pain of loss. It was safer there, in the darkness, away from this reality where Matthew no
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longer existed.
I turned to go, but Alexander’s voice, laced with something that sounded almost like
desperation, reached me.
+8 Points >
“Can’t you… wait two days?” he asked. “I could finish the investigation and accompany you.”
I paused briefly, keeping my back to him. The offer hung in the air between us, but I couldn’t
bring myself to accept it. Not now. Not when Matthew’s cold body was a constant reminder of
what I had lost.
“No,” I replied, my voice distant and calm. “Matthew’s family is waiting for him.”
