Chapter 233
Chapter 233
Elara’s POV
The fireworks blared outside, the sound of celebration lingering in the air. The Lycan’s Kingdom was alive with joy, but inside, I felt nothing but cold.
Everyone around me was rejoicing. Everyone except for me.
I couldn’t shake the thought that Thorne, wherever he was, had seen the fireworks too. Had he looked up, too, and felt anything? Would he ever know what I had done?
But it didn’t matter now. I’d never have the chance to find out.
Morning came, and the doctors arrived promptly, their footsteps echoing as they entered the room.
“It’ll take a couple of days for the wounds to heal,” the doctor said, smiling as if his words were comforting. “But otherwise, you’re in excellent condition. The King’s heir is strong and healthy. Congratulations, Queen Elara.”
Queen. The word stung more than the wounds on my body. It didn’t fit. It didn’t feel like it belonged to me, and yet… it was mine now.
I placed a hand over my belly, feeling the undeniable weight of the responsibility growing inside me.
As of today, my child was Dorian’s heir. The Lycan Kingdom’s future.
I forced myself to nod. “Thank you. Can I leave today?” I asked, my voice more steady than I felt.
The doctor hesitated. “We’d prefer you stay. The nurses will apply ointment to your wound daily to ensure it heals without leaving a scar…”
“Scars don’t bother me,” I interrupted, my voice colder than I intended.
It wasn’t the scars that bothered me. It was the memories they would bring. I needed them. Needed a reminder of what had been done to me. A reminder of why I had to destroy Amara,
“I’ll be leaving today,” I said firmly, cutting off any further arguments.
After a brief pause, the doctor finally relented and signed my release.
But I didn’t leave the hospital right away. Not yet.
I made my way to Elder Randy’s room. If I was going to bring Amara down, I needed leverage, Something- anything–that could destroy her hold over this kingdom.
The thought of Amara made my blood boil. She had nearly killed me in that study. Yet the servants had seen nothing, and there were no cameras. No proof.
The only clue I had left was the poisoning of Elder Randy. My gut told me Amara was behind it. If I could
prove it, maybe, just maybe, I could take her down.
I stepped into the ward, where a few nurses were attending to Elder Randy.
“Good day, Queen Elara,” they greeted me, bowing as I walked in.
“How is Elder Randy?” I asked, my gaze falling on the elder’s pale, lifeless form.
“He hasn’t woken up. The doctors say he might never wake up, that he could remain like this forever,” one nurse replied softly.
I walked up to the bed, my eyes scanning his still form. His skin was gray, his face waxen. He looked… dead. His shallow breathing, the only sign he was still alive.
I moved closer, scanning for anything that could lead me to Amara. But there was nothing. His clothes were clean. His nails were intact. His skin unmarred.
I almost gave up then. Almost.
But the tiniest hint of something unusual caught my attention: the color of his eyes.
I lifted his eyelid, my breath catching in my throat when I saw the red.
“Why are his eyeballs red?” I asked, my voice shaky.
The nurses gathered around, their expressions mirroring my shock.
“I–it’s true!” one nurse gasped. “His eyes weren’t like this when he first came in.”
The horror settled deeper. Red eyes?
I took a step back. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t just a random medical anomaly. It couldn’t be.
“Report this to the doctor immediately,” I commanded.
The nurses scrambled. One rushed out of the room while the others murmured to each other, clearly unsettled.
The head nurse, however, furrowed her brow as if recalling something.
“Red eyeballs… why does that sound familiar to me?” she muttered.
I fixed her with a sharp gaze. “You’ve seen something like this before?”
She hesitated. “Maybe… but I can’t recall anything related to poisoning. I would’ve remembered.”
“No,” I said firmly, unwilling to let go of any lead. “Look it up. Check the records. This is important.”
The nurse nodded, eager to please. “I’ll check the archives when I finish my shift.”
I shook my head. “No. I can’t wait that long. Where are the archives?”
The nurse gave me a reluctant look but handed me a key. “It’s underground. If you don’t mind the dust, it’s all yours.”
I thanked her and made my way to the archives.
The vault was a dark, musty place. The air felt heavy, thick with the scent of age. Dust clung to everything, and the flickering light above cast long shadows that made the place feel like a tomb.
I stepped inside, the echo of my footsteps filling the space. It was eerily quiet.
I went straight to the computers, eager to find something–anything–that could link Amara to this.
I searched for “poison” and “red eyeballs.”
Nothing.
I tried again without “poison,” but the result was the same.
The nurse had warned me. Records older than three years weren’t digitized yet. They were still in paper form.
With a deep sigh, I turned my focus to the shelves of old files.
The room smelled like mildew, the paper brittle under my fingers. I sifted through the piles, growing more frustrated with each passing minute.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Just as I was about to give up, something caught my eye. A single file, tucked away in the far corner, almost hidden in the shadows.
My pulse quickened.
I carefully pulled the file off the shelf, my fingers brushing against the delicate, crumbling paper.
The cover was faded, the writing almost unreadable, but I could still make out a few key words.
“Died of food poisoning.”
“Red eyeballs after death.”
My heart skipped a beat. The patient’s name stood out clearly: Nora Hernandez.
The name sent a chill down my spine.
Nora Hernandez?
That was Dario’s brother. Amara’s former mate.
Nora had died under similar circumstances.
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.
Could Amara have… killed him? Had she poisoned him too?
I couldn’t make sense of it. But the pieces… they were starting to fall into place.
I wasn’t the only one who had been targeted. Amara had taken everything from her own.
The thought of it chilled me to the bone.
As I turned the file over in my hands, I heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. I whipped around, startled.
“… What are you looking at?” a soft voice asked from behind me.
I froze.
Amara. She was standing there, just a few feet away, her gaze cold and calculating.
And that smile… that smile was like a knife.
