a fate that can't be changed

Chapter 8

Bryant Reed

Spending the night with Celine was awesome, but watching her sleep was the best feeling I could ever ask for. I never liked when someone pities me, but I couldn't also blame her for being like that. No matter how much I try to act as though everything is fine, deep inside me, I knew I'm not fine.

I watched her toss on the bed tiredly, turning to face me while still having her eyes closed as she slept peacefully like a baby. I scoffed once again when I saw the jeans trouser she was wearing. What was she thinking? That I was going to do shit to her while she was sleeping? I asked myself, but on second thought, I didn't blame her for taking the protective measure.

It was finally my usual time of doing my morning routine, so I wheeled myself into the bathroom. I initially do go to the bathroom without my wheelchair, but I didn't want to come crawling out here like a baby later and have her sad again.

Slowly, I gritted my teeth while staring at my reflection in the mirror. My heart felt like it was being ripped off my chest. My eyes glistened with tears, but I fought them back at all costs because I have promised myself not to be pathetic.

I grabbed the sink and helped myself up from the wheelchair. It was tough before I could stand up, but sadly, I couldn't feel my legs. It felt as though they were just there. No, it didn't feel like it. They were just there. I was as good as an amputated person. I stared at my reflection, disgusted at myself. I have never needed my legs so badly more than I do now. Seeing the tears in her eyes earlier, the pathetic look, how she hugged me and cried because of me, I just wanted to have my legs back and not look pathetic to her anymore.

Tears streamed down my cheeks when I saw the reflection of my shaky hands. I wanted to, but I couldn't hold back the tears anymore because it hurts more than anything. I wanted to stare for long, but my hands became sour, and when I couldn't stand on them anymore, I lost control and fell roughly on the ground, crashing my hand again the water closet. My elbow sprained.

"Don't try to walk, Bryant. Don't push yourself too hard and accept your fate. You are already like this, so fucking stop trying to change your fate," I have been telling myself those words for years now, and here I was again, whispering it to myself, but sadly, I still wanted to make changes. If the changes could be made, I would've been on my feet now, walking like every other werewolf out there, living a normal life, and who knows, maybe already mated and expecting a pulp, but fuck it! Who would want to be with a crippled prince... No, I didn't think of myself as a prince. The moon goddess wouldn't have been this cruel to me if she ever saw me as a prince.

"Are you ok, Bryant?" The sound of the knock on the door pulled my attention, and I realized that Celine was already awake. I quickly wiped my tears and crawled to the wheelchair forcing myself into it while groaning silently so she won't hear me from outside. I wheeled myself to the door and pulled it open, revealing her.

I stared back at her blankly, activating the dumb side I hated showing her.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" She smiled at me brightly. That smile that made my heart flutter, that smile that would sweep any man off his feet for her. Yes, that was the kind of smile she gave me.

"Hmm," I just nodded my head, not saying a word to her. I watched as her eyes diverted to my legs, and again, that sad look crept its way to her face.

"Don't feel bad for me," I wanted to tell her that, but a dumb person wouldn't think of that, right? I guess I just had to look at her and pretended nothing was happening.

"I was about to bathe. You want to join?" I asked her, and she scoffed.

"No, I don't want to. Do you need help in washing your hair? I could assist with that," she offered, and I quickly nodded my head, smiling at her brightly.

Minutes later...

I felt tickles all over my body as her fingers raked my hair, washing it thoroughly. For a sec, I was going to ask if she was a salonist because of how good she was at doing this, but I guess it's girl's stuff. I mean, Mom used to wash my hair almost the same way when she was still alive.

"I can ask you questions, right?" I heard her voice, and I opened my eyes.

"Hmm," I hummed after a long silence.

"Your legs... Have you tried going to see a doctor?" She asked me, and I nodded my head.

"What did he or she say?" She asked, curiosity resounding in her voice.

"I'm hungry," I replied to her after a long silence, ignoring her question. Of course, we've gone to see several Doctors in the last few years several times, but their replies were always the same.

'There is no improvement, and there is a ninety-nine percent chance of him never walking again. His legs are damaged, and I'd advise you to stop trying to reverse it' Those were always their reply, and at a point when I got tired, I gave up trying because there was really no reason to try to survive when it was not working out.

"You are hungry?" Maybe she was stunned by my answer. The expression on her face didn't say otherwise.

"Hmm... Alright. I will hurry up with it so you can go have breakfast," she replied to me, and I nodded my head.

She was finally done with my hair, so she left the bathroom and I set to bathe.

I didn't find her in the room when I went in minutes later, and I assumed she must've left for her room. I set to get dressed.

My phone rang, and I wheeled myself to the bed where I kept it earlier. Nolan's number was displayed on the screen. Nolan is my Dad's beta's only son, and my childhood friend.

"We need to see. It's urgent. I will send you the address of the place," he sounded urgent, and the call dropped immediately.

"What's wrong?" I mumbled...