The Golden Lycans (Ella) novel Chapter 48

How do you not feel this too?

+25 Points

My eyes flutter open, sluggish and unfocused. Everything feels distant, like I’m surfacing from deep underwater. A dull, throbbing pain pulses at the back of my head, growing sharper as awareness creeps in. I wince instinctively, blinking against the dim light, my mind struggling to piece together where I am-or how I got here.

I’m in some sort of medical bay, lying on an examination trolley with raised sides. The scent of antiseptic clings to the air. I lift a shaky hand to my face, my fingers brushing against something foreign. My nose-stuffed with long cotton wool pads. I frown, slowly pulling them free, wincing at the dry, crusted blood staining them. I sniff experimentally, wrinkling my nose at the sensation, but it seems fine now. It’s the back of my head that still screams in protest.

Tentatively, I reach back, fingertips grazing the sore, swollen area. A sharp jolt of pain rips through my skull, and I gasp, my breath hitching. The room tilts slightly, and for a moment, I have to shut my eyes, willing away the disorientation threatening to drag me under again.

“You hit the back of your head pretty hard,” a soft, low voice murmurs from behind me.

I turn. My heart jolts in my chest, and there he is-Austin. Still in his basketball gear, hair damp with sweat, green eyes filled with concern.

The sight of him sends a pang through me so sharp it steals my breath. Even now, lying here broken and confused, he still manages to unravel me completely. I hate it. I hate how effortlessly he can pull emotion from me. How much I want him. How much it hurts to want him.

His fingers brush mine before he takes my hand gently, cradling it in both of his.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, and it’s so quiet I barely hear it. But it lands in my chest like a punch.

I blink, throat tightening. “Austin…” his name a quiet tremor on my lips. My heart starts to race, the very sight of him pulling something deep and unspoken from me. It’s like I’ve been holding my breath for weeks and now, finally, I can exhale-but I’m terrified of what might come rushing out.

He steps closer, his expression softening further as he takes my hand gently in his. His fingers are warm, familiar. His thumb strokes along the back of my hand in slow, steady passes, and I know I should pull away-I need to pull away. But I don’t. Because for a moment, I can pretend that it’s

safe to want him again.

His eyes search mine, and there’s this raw, aching hope there. Hope that guts me.

I tip my face up toward him, my breath catching in my throat. My gaze flickers to his lips. My mind warns me against this-for my own good. But my heart? It leans forward. It aches for him. I want him to kiss me. I want to fall into that reckless, heart-thudding thing that happens when we’re

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together. I want to forget the countdown of days, the inevitable ending, and just be his for a while.

His other hand cups my cheek, so gentle it makes something inside me crack open. His touch is everything I’ve missed-steady, grounding, real. I lean into it without meaning to, closing my eyes for a brief second as l’absorb the feel of him. I don’t deserve this closeness. Not when I know I’m

going to rip it away soon.

Tears burn behind my lids.

Because I know how this ends.

He doesn’t.

And if he knew-if he really knew-he wouldn’t be looking at me like that.

A single tear escapes, trailing down my cheek. I hate myself for it. Because I can’t keep doing this

I can’t let myself fall deeper when I know I’m already drowning.

We can’t survive the future that’s coming.

And yet… I still want him. I always want him.

I bite my lip, staring into his eyes, wishing so hard that things could be different. That I could let myself have this. Have him. But it’s easier to pretend I don’t feel anything than to admit how deeply

I do. Because if I say it-if I give it life-then it’ll shatter me when he eventually leaves.

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and his smile-soft, familiar-nearly kills me.

I should resist. I should pull away.

But instead, a sob rips from my chest, sudden and violent, and it shatters the fragile moment we

were clinging to.

His hand jerks back in shock, the hope in his eyes dimming instantly, twisting into something wounded. Something desperate.

“Ella-” his voice is hoarse, almost broken. “No, no, no!”

He grips my hand again, this time tighter, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Please don’t cry,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m here. I’m yours. I just don’t understand-” he swallows, hard. “How do you not feel this too?”

I flinch at the words. He doesn’t know. He has no idea that I do feel it-that I feel it so much it’s tearing me apart. That’s why I’m crying. That’s why I’m breaking.

Before I can say anything, the door bursts open.

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<How do you not feel this too?

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The nurse strides in, her face tight with disapproval. “Mr. Landry, that’s enough! You’ve upset her

further. Out. Now!”

“Ndidn’t mean “Austin stammers, staring at me, completely stricken.

I want to tell him. I want to scream that I love him. That I wish we had more time. That it’s not that I

don’t feel this-it’s that I do.

But no words come.

He’s backing away now, retreating one reluctant step at a time, the confusion and devastation clear on his face. Then the door slams behind him.

Gone.

Just like that, he’s gone-and with him, the warmth I’d barely let myself sink into.

The silence is unbearable.

The nurse speaks gently now, “Please try to calm down, Ms. Reva. You’ll only make your head hurt

more.”

But she doesn’t understand. No one does.

I curl onto my side, drawing my knees to my chest, and the sobs come again, deeper this time. Gut-wrenching. Silent and sharp. I press my face into the pillow, letting the tears soak into the

sterile fabric.

Because this is what happens when you want something you’re too afraid to reach for.

This is what happens when you love someone with your whole heart and convince yourself you

don’t.

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