TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 315

CHAPTER 245: WHERE WAS SAPPHIRE?

EMBER’S POV

The hospital smells like every hospital I’ve ever been in, which is too many hospitals for a woman my age.

Antiseptic and recycled air and the faint sweet undertone of something floral that the ventilation system pumps through the corridors to mask the fact that people come here to find out whether their lives are about to change for the worse.

Maurice went into surgery two hours ago. I wait in a terrible, beige room filled with violently

uncomfortable chairs.

The television in the corner plays a cooking show on mute.

I watch a woman silently chop onions, acutely aware that a team of strangers is cutting open my father’s

chest in a sealed room nearby.

Queenie sits right beside me.

She has gripped my hand continuously since the ambulance ride, maintaining a desperate, unrelenting

hold.

She uses this physical anchor to actively block out reality, knowing that releasing her grip forces her to finally process the trauma of the last four hours.

Which I know she is not ready for.

Neither am I.

My hands are clean now.

A nurse made me wash them when we arrived, standing beside me at the sink with a gentleness that told me she’d done this before guided someone through the process of scrubbing another person’s blood off their skin while their brain refused to cooperate with the mechanics of soap and water.

The blood came off in pink swirls that circled the drain, and I watched it go and thought: that’s Maurice. That is his blood washing down a hospital sink while surgeons cut his chest open. His heart stopped completely under my hands. How it restarted moments later is a complete mystery.

I sit here questioning if my actions were actually enough, or if I merely bought him an extra hour of breathing before his body completes what Harrison started.

“Ember.”

Queenie speaks with absolute care, using the exact tone she reserves for when she has been working up to saying something and has finally run out of runway.

“Yeah.”

C CHAPTERZAN WHERE WAS SAPPHIRE?

“Do you want to. maybe, talk about what happened in that room?”

I knew this was coming. I have been waiting for it since the paramedics loaded Maurice into the

ambulance.

+25 Points.

They kept giving me the confused, terrified looks of medical professionals who just pulled a critically wounded man out of a room that looked exactly like the inside of a blast furnace.

“I don’t know… I’m not quite sure what happened either.”

“Ember, the walls were scorched. The pipe was glowing. The entire house was shaking, and I was in the kitchen, and I thought the ceiling was coming down on me, and then it just… stopped. And when I looked

down the hallway, you were on the floor with your eyes-” She stops and swallows. “Your eyes were silver,

Ember. Not a little bit. Not a flicker. Completely silver. Like someone had replaced them.”

“I know.”

“So what HAPPENED?”

“I told you. I don’t know.” And the frustration in my voice is real because I DON’T know.

I don’t understand what Sapphire responds to or why she chose that moment to wake up, or how a wolf that has been silent inside me for hours suddenly decided to shake a house off its foundation and restart

a dead man’s heart.

At the Bacchanal, when Rafael’s men were closing in, and the compound was tearing through my blood, Sapphire erupted in response to a threat.

That made a kind of sense survival instinct, self–preservation, the wolf protecting its host.

But this wasn’t a threat.

Maurice was already dying. Harrison was already dead. The danger had passed, and Sapphire exploded AFTER the crisis, not during it, and that makes no sense to me.

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