CHAPTER 103: ALCHEMY 2

FIA

The wood shavings spread across the counter like some kind of offerings. My nose hovered over them. Inhaling as I sorted through the layers of scent that clung to the fragments.

Moonbriar. Definitely moonbriar. The sharp bite of it cut through everything else. This smelled stronger though. Concentrated.

"Here." Thorne passed me another chip. "What about this one? I think I have it. But a double check is needed."

I brought it close. The scent hit slower. Earthy. Almost sweet but with something bitter underneath. "Hollowberry root."

"You’re certain?" Maren was already pulling bottles. Glass clinked as she searched.

"My mother made me memorize herbs." I set the chip down. "Said it would serve me well someday and when her disease got to her, I had to step it up a notch. I know my herbs and poisons."

She would have loved this. Hated it too. Both at once. She would have loved that her lessons stuck but hated why I still needed them.

Thorne measured out moonbriar extract. His hands were steadier now. Purpose did that. Gave you something to hold onto when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

"How much hollowberry?" Maren’s fingers drummed against the counter.

"Start small." I moved closer. "We can adjust."

They worked. I watched. Offered suggestions when they asked. Mostly I just tried to stay out of their way. Let them do what they knew how to do.

The liquid they mixed turned pale amber. Almost honey colored. It caught the light from the overhead fixtures and seemed to glow from within.

"This could work." Thorne held the vial up. Tilted it back and forth. "In theory."

"Theory isn’t certainty." Maren’s voice had that flat quality again. The one that meant she was thinking too hard. Seeing all the ways things could go wrong.

"Nothing is certain." I reached for the vial.

Thorne pulled it back. "We can’t give this to her."

The words landed like stones in still water. Ripples spread out. Made everything feel unstable.

"What do you mean we can’t?" My hand was still outstretched. The emptiness crept up my stomach.

"We don’t know what this will do." Maren came around the counter as she stood between me and Thorne. "We mixed ingredients based on guesswork and hope. That’s not medicine. This is gambling."

"Then we gamble." The heat in my chest was building again. "We have nothing else."

"We have patience." Thorne set the vial down carefully. Like it was precious. Or dangerous. Maybe both. "We wait for a proper witch. For someone with actual power to help."

"And if they can’t?" The question scraped out of my throat. "If no one can break this?"

Neither of them answered. They didn’t need to. The silence said enough.

"I’m willing to take the risk." I looked between them. "If there’s even a chance this works..."

"It’s not your risk to take." Maren’s hand found my shoulder again. The touch felt heavier this time. "She’s not your mother. Only Alpha Cian can speak in this."

The words stung. Sharp. True.

"But she could be saved." I tried to keep my voice level. "If we just try..."

"This was always where it was going to lead." Thorne’s weathered face looked sad. Resigned. "We needed to do something. To feel useful. But deep down we all knew we couldn’t actually use what we made."

"Then what was the point?" My hands curled into fists. "Why did we waste time?"

"I’m sure it helped ease your mind." His smile was gentle. Understanding. "Mine too if I’m being honest."

I wanted to argue. Wanted to shout that this was different. That we’d figured something out. That the vial of amber liquid sitting on the counter was more than just a placebo for our helplessness. Even if we didn’t fucking have the most important ingredient. Magic.

But I couldn’t. Because somewhere under the desperation and the hope and the need to fix things, I knew they were right.

"We should all get some sleep." Maren squeezed my shoulder. "It’s been a long day."

"You two go." I turned back to the counter. To the bottles and vials and all the things we’d tried to make sense of. "I’ll head up soon. I just need to put my headspace right."

Maren studied me for a moment. Then nodded. "Medic omegas will come keep watch soon as Beta Ronan and Elder Moira check their loyalties like the Alpha requested. So you shouldn’t be bothered by their presence while you’re here."

"No problem." I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t.

Their footsteps retreated. The door closed with a soft click. Then it was just me, the Grand Luna and the steady beep of monitors that said she was still alive. Still hanging on.

I picked up the vial. Held it to the light the way Thorne had. The liquid swirled slightly. Caught the fluorescent glow and turned it golden.

My feet carried me to the bed. To where Luna Morrigan lay surrounded by wires and tubes and machines that helped breathed for her. Thought for her. Kept her tethered to this world.

"I’m sorry I can’t help you." The words came out whispered. Broken. "You were one of the kindest people I ever had in this pack."

Her face was so still. Peaceful almost. Like she was just sleeping. Like she might wake up any moment, smile and ask me how I was settling in.

"I guess I’m simply not magic." I set the vial on the bedside table and traced my fingers along the edge. "None of us have power or a gift from the Goddess."

The monitors beeped. Constant. Unchanging.

"Cian is terrified for you." My throat felt tight. "I understand his predicament. I know what it is to be powerless. To have nothing that can change things."

I looked at the vial again. At the liquid that represented hours of work. Of hope. Of desperate need to do something. Anything.

"This bottle can’t save you. Just like I couldn’t save my mother."

Tears formed. Hot. Unwelcome. I tried to blink them back but they came anyway.

"Did you know..." I had to stop just to swallow. "The night before she died, I cooked up something I was sure would work. I was so sure my knowledge and all my studying could make it possible. That I could develop something that would lift my mother’s rot."

The memory tasted bitter. Felt heavy.

"I had faith in the Goddess. I prayed she would shine her light on me." A tear rolled down my cheek. I didn’t wipe it away. "But I wasn’t lucky. She died the following morning. And I was bitter."

A laugh escaped. Small. Humorless. "Cian is already the way he is. If you die..."

I couldn’t finish. I didn’t want to imagine what he’d become. How much further he’d fall into that darkness I’d seen in his eyes.

"You’re one of his guiding lights." I reached out. Let my fingers hover over her hand. "He’ll lose his way if he cannot save you."

There was another pause but the machines beeped regardless.

"I guess I don’t want that."

I started to stand. To leave before the tears became something I couldn’t control. Then her finger twitched.

Small. Barely there. But I saw it. At least I was sure that I did. The chances that it was all in my head was astronomical.

"Grand Luna?" I leaned closer. "Can you hear me?"

Nothing. There was no more movement. No change in the monitors. Just the same steady rhythm.

I stared at her hand. Waited. Watched. But nothing else happened.

"I’m imagining things." The words were for me. A reminder that exhaustion did strange things to perception.

But my eyes found the vial anyway. That golden liquid that couldn’t save her. That we’d mixed knowing we’d never use it.

"Lady Selene." I looked up at the ceiling. At nothing and everything all at once. "Will you surprise me this time? Or will another good person suffer needlessly again?"

My hands moved before my brain could catch up. I knew better but I couldn’t help myself. I unscrewed the vial. Found a needle. Drew the liquid into it with hands that only shook a little.

The feeding tube was right there. Easy to access. All I had to do was inject it.

"Please." I didn’t know who I was talking to anymore. The Goddess. Myself. The universe. "Please let this work."

I pushed the plunger. Watched the amber liquid disappear into the tube. Into her.

Then I waited. Eyes fixed on the monitors. Watching for any change. Any spike or drop or sign that I’d just made things worse.

But nothing happened. The numbers stayed steady. Her breathing remained assisted. Everything was exactly the same.

"Of course." I set the empty needle aside. "Of course it didn’t work."

Exhaustion hit like a wave. Pulled at my bones. Made standing feel like too much effort.

I needed to sleep. To stop pretending I could fix things I had no power to fix.

The hallway was quiet as I left. Empty except for shadows that stretched long under the dim lights.

But my mind wasn’t quiet. It dragged me back. To another room. Another bed. Another woman I couldn’t save.

My mother’s room had smelled different. Rot had its own scent. Sweet, sickly and wrong. The kind of smell that clung to everything. Got in your clothes. Your hair. Your throat.

She couldn’t stand anymore by then. Could barely speak. Every word came out like broken glass. Raspy. Painful. Forced through flesh that was falling apart from the inside.

I’d sat beside her bed. Held a bottle similar to the one I’d just used. Believed with everything in me that it would work.

"Why would you marry him?" The question had burst out. Sharp. Angry. "Father is cruel. Heartless. He should be here with you while you suffer."

She’d turned her head. The movement was slow. Careful. "He can’t bear to see me in pain."

"And I can?" My voice had cracked. "I’m supposed to watch this?"

"Of course not." Her hand had lifted. Trembling. Shaking like a leaf in wind. "But I know your nature. And I know his. This family’s politics and his dread for what’s coming for me eats him alive. But you’re not like that."

I’d held up the bottle. "I made this. I believe I finally crafted what will work."

She’d chuckled. A sound that became a cough. Blood had leaked from crusted spots on her skin. Places where the rot had dried and cracked. Made her look like a tree that was dying from the roots up.

"I don’t want you to suffer needlessly, my Fi." Her hand had reached for mine. Fingers cold. Too cold. "I’ve accepted what will be will be. There is no point drinking more potions and concoction."

"The Goddess is cruel." Tears had streamed down my face. "Why would she do this to you? Is it a crime to be born an omega?"

"This is no fault of the dazzling Selene." She’d smiled. Sad. Resigned. "And it’s not about being an omega. This is a crime of my blood. Our flesh was not meant to be crafted."

"What does that even mean?" I’d leaned closer. "Just take it, Mom. Please."

She’d hesitated. Then accepted the bottle. Drank what I’d made with hands that shook so badly I had to help her.

The memory faded. Left me standing in the empty hallway with tears on my cheeks and a hollow feeling in my chest.

I wiped my face and tried to pull myself together.

"Luna Fia. We meet again."

I looked up. Alpha Aldric stood a few feet away. His smile was warm. Kind. Everything his daughter wasn’t. But there was still something biting and unnerving about it.

Still I smiled back and hoped he couldn’t see the tears as I bowed because that’s what you did. "Alpha Aldric."