Chapter 4

(Olivia's POV)

After saying this, Ethan hung up the phone. His amber eyes hardened as he looked at me with contempt.

"Olivia, if you have the guts, don't let Lily call me again," he said coldly.

Without another word, he turned and walked toward the door. His shoulders were straight, his stride confident – the walk of a man who believed he was completely in the right.

Just as he stepped out, my legs gave way beneath me. A loud thud echoed through the small house as I collapsed to the floor.

Ethan instinctively turned back. His eyes narrowed when he saw me sprawled on the hardwood.

"Olivia, I warned you, don't try these pathetic tricks in front of me," he sneered.

I lay on the cold floor, still semi-conscious. His words pierced me like silver daggers, each syllable dripping with disdain.

In his mind, I was just a conniving woman resorting to desperate measures. A manipulative female trying to gain his attention through pathetic tricks.

He saw me as the woman who had drugged him five years ago on his anniversary with Victoria Frost. The evil witch who forced his precious Victoria to leave the territory alone and endure hardship while pregnant with Emma.

Now, he believed I was using Lily's illness to compete with Victoria for his attention. The thought made bile rise in my throat.

I wanted to scream the truth. To tell him how our daughter had suffered, how she had begged for his love until her final breath.

My lips parted, trying to form words. I wanted to tell him to leave, to never come back.

But weakness overwhelmed me. A wave of darkness crashed over my consciousness, pulling me under.

(Ethan's POV)

I stared at Olivia's collapsed form, annoyance flickering through me.

This was just another one of her manipulative tactics. She'd always been dramatic, but this was taking it too far.

I turned to leave again but something made me pause. Her breathing seemed shallow, her face unnaturally pale.

With an irritated sigh, I walked back and nudged her shoulder. "Olivia, enough."

She didn't respond. I crouched down and shook her more firmly. "Olivia!"

When she slumped back down, my annoyance evaporated, replaced by instinct. I caught her before her head hit the floor, cradling her limp body.

The sight of her pale face and closed eyes finally convinced me. This wasn't an act.

Her skin felt cold beneath my fingers. I pressed two fingers against her neck, relieved to find a pulse, though it was weaker than it should have been.

I lifted her easily, carrying her to the bedroom. Her weight was alarmingly light in my arms.

After laying her on the bed, I pulled out my phone and dialed Dr. Harold Bennett's number.

Half an hour later, Dr. Bennett arrived at Maple Grove. The elderly doctor had been with our family for as long as I could remember.

He examined Olivia thoroughly in the master bedroom while I waited impatiently outside. When he finally emerged, his expression was grave.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked before he could speak.

Despite my seemingly casual tone, Dr. Bennett knew better than to underestimate my question. He had served the Stone family for twenty years, witnessing my transformation after the attack that killed my mother and left me blind for six months.

After regaining my sight, I briefly showed a spark of hope but lost it again after failing to find the woman who had cared for me during my amnesia. I became increasingly cold and distant until Olivia entered my life.

"She's suffering from extreme exhaustion and malnutrition," Dr. Bennett reported, adjusting his glasses. "She's also showing signs of severe grief response."

I raised an eyebrow. "Grief?"

"Yes, Alpha. Quite profound grief, actually." His eyes flickered to mine, then away. "Combined with sleep deprivation and poor nutrition, it's caused her body to simply shut down."

My gaze deepened, noting the doctor's mention of grief. What did Olivia have to grieve about? Our daughter was fine – just sick, not dead as she kept claiming.

"Should we send someone from the main house to care for her?" Dr. Bennett inquired, his tone careful.

I knew he was thinking of the past – of how devoted I had once been to Olivia. How different things were now.

"No," I replied curtly, dismissing Dr. Bennett with a glance. "That won't be necessary."

(Olivia's POV)

I was trapped in a nightmare, reliving the day Lily died.

Dr. Marcus Fletcher stood before me, his face grave. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Winters. The kidney donor has... disappeared."

"What do you mean disappeared?" I asked, my voice rising. "The surgery was scheduled for tomorrow!"

"The donor kidney was redirected to another patient," he said, not meeting my eyes. "There was nothing I could do."

I felt the world tilting beneath me. "But Lily has been waiting for months! She won't survive without this transplant!"

Dr. Fletcher's silence confirmed my worst fears.

I rushed back to Lily's room, pulling out my phone to call Ethan. One call. Two. Three. Straight to voicemail each time.

"Please, Ethan," I begged after the tone. "Lily needs you. The donor kidney is gone. You have connections – please help us!"

But my pleas went unanswered.

I returned to Lily's bedside, taking her small hand in mine. Her skin was so pale, almost translucent.

"Mommy?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Did Daddy call back?"

I forced a smile, swallowing my tears. "He's very busy, sweetheart. But he loves you very much."

Lily's emerald eyes – so like mine – filled with understanding beyond her years. "It's okay, Mommy. I know he's with Emma."

Her small fingers tightened around mine. "Mommy, I'm scared."

"Don't be scared, baby," I whispered, stroking her hair. "Mommy's right here."

"Will it hurt?" she asked, her voice trembling.

I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

"Mommy," she whispered, her eyes growing heavy. "Can you tell Daddy I love him? Even if he loves Emma more?"

Before I could answer, her small hand slipped from mine. The monitors began to wail as her eyes closed forever.

"No!" I screamed, gathering her in my arms. "Lily, please! Don't leave me!"

I clutched her cooling body to my chest, desperately trying to warm her, to will life back into her small frame.

"Please, baby," I sobbed, rocking her back and forth. "Please don't go."

But she was already gone. My beautiful, brave little girl.

(Ethan's POV)

I awoke to the sound of heart-wrenching sobs.

Disoriented, I blinked in the darkness, gradually remembering where I was – in Olivia's guest bedroom at Maple Grove.

I'd been exhausted after spending the day with Emma at the Silvercrest Medical Center. The young wolf had needed another check-up after her kidney transplant, and Victoria had insisted I be there.

Now, these cries were interrupting my much-needed rest.

With an irritated growl, I pushed myself up and followed the sound to Olivia's bedroom.

She was thrashing in her sleep, tears streaming down her face as she clutched at empty air.

"Olivia, what are you doing—" I began, about to push her away, but stopped.

Her face was contorted in pure anguish, her tears creating wet patches on the pillow. This wasn't a performance.

"Lily," she whimpered, her voice breaking. "Don't leave me, baby. Please don't go."

My irritation faded as I watched her suffering. Her grief was palpable, her heartbroken whispers barely audible.

I caught fragments of her pleas. "Don't leave." "Can't live without you."

Something uncomfortable twisted in my chest. I sat on the edge of the bed, unsure what to do.

"Olivia," I said, my voice softer than intended. "Wake up."

She didn't respond, lost in her nightmare.

I gently patted her face. "Olivia, wake up, don't cry," I said, my voice still stiff but laced with a hint of comfort.

But she didn't wake. Her tears continued to flow, her body shaking with each sob.

I reached for a tissue from the nightstand and carefully wiped her face. "It's okay, don't cry, I'm here."

As her sobs intensified, something inside me broke. I couldn't stand to see her in such pain, even if I didn't understand its source.

I cupped her chin and leaned down, pressing my lips to hers. I told myself I was just trying to silence her cries, to calm her down.

But the moment our lips touched, something electric passed between us. A connection I'd been denying for too long.

The kiss deepened, my body responding to her proximity. What had started as comfort quickly became something else – passionate and uncontrolled.

My hand slid beneath her nightgown, finding her skin warm and soft. All thoughts of Victoria, of Emma, of our arguments faded away.

In this moment, there was only Olivia – my mate, my Luna, the woman whose scent still called to my wolf even when my human mind tried to deny it.