Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Elias

I woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains and an empty space beside me. The sheets were cool to the touch, suggesting Harper had been up for a while. I listened, catching the faint sounds of movement from the kitchen, the clink of a mug, the soft hiss of the coffee maker, familiar domestic noises that somehow didn't match the growing knot of unease in my stomach. Last night's conversation lingered like a bruise, tender to the touch. I'd been more vulnerable with Harper than I'd intended, voicing fears I'd meant to keep buried. Part of me regretted it; the last thing she needed was to worry about my insecurities on top of everything else she was facing.

I pushed myself up, running a hand through my sleep-mussed hair. The apartment we'd moved into after leaving the pack house was modest but comfortable, far enough from the main town center to give us privacy but close enough to respond quickly if needed. Though with Tommy firmly established as Alpha, my role had shifted from leadership to... what, exactly? Advisor? Retired figurehead? Another uncertainty to add to the growing list.

The floor was cool beneath my feet as I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and made my way to the kitchen. Harper stood by the counter, her back to me as she prepared coffee, dressed in nothing but one of my t-shirts that fell to mid-thigh. The sight still took my breath away, even after everything we'd been through.

"Morning," I said, my voice still rough with sleep. She turned, a smile warming her features. 

"Hey. I was trying not to wake you."

"Bed got cold without you." She held up a mug in silent offering. I nodded, grateful for the routine normalcy of it all. She handed me the coffee, our fingers brushing in the exchange.

"Sleep okay?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. No more nightmares had disturbed her rest after our conversation and subsequent reconnection.

"Better than I have in days," she admitted, leaning against the counter. "No more War dreams."

"Good." I took a sip of the coffee, the familiar bitterness grounding me in the moment. "Any word from our babysitters?" Harper rolled her eyes. Tommy had set them up in some of the additional guest housing he had in town, stating he didn’t want them in the pack house if he could help it. Andrews had even said that he was fine, as it meant they were closer to Harper. Which just made me want to punch him in the face.

"Andrews called to remind me about the daily check-in. Apparently, I need to report to them at noon like a good little prisoner." I bit back my instinctive response, knowing my anger would only add to her burden. 

"I'll come with you."

"Not necessary," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's just bureaucratic bullshit. 'Have you accessed the Neverplain today, Ms. Kirby? Have you attempted to contact any demon-bloods, Ms. Kirby?'" Her impression of Anettia's clipped tones was unnervingly accurate. I set my mug down and moved closer, unable to resist the pull toward her. 

"Still. I don't like you dealing with them alone."

"I'm a big girl, Elias," she said, but her expression softened as I closed the distance between us. "But if it makes you feel better..."

"It does," I admitted, placing my hands on her hips, drawing her against me. The simple physical contact steadied something inside me, a reminder that whatever else had changed, this connection remained. Harper's arms wound around my neck, her body relaxing into mine. 

"We need to talk about Marcus," she said after a moment, her voice muffled against my chest.

"I know." I sighed, resting my chin on top of her head. "He's getting worse."

"Brianna thinks we have days, maybe a week, before the damage becomes permanent." She pulled back slightly, meeting my gaze with determination in her eyes. "I can't let that happen, Elias. Not to him."

"You're talking about breaking the Council's restrictions," I said, stating the obvious. "Going to the Neverplain, maybe deeper."

"To the Land of Shattered Souls," she confirmed, no hesitation in her voice. The words sent a chill through me. The term that described Hell as way too flowery had been on repeat since Caroline had told us about the prophecy she was insistent was about Harper.

"It's too dangerous," I said, though I knew the argument was futile before it even left my lips.

"So is leaving him the way he is," Harper countered. "You saw him yesterday. That's not Marcus anymore, not really. Just... fragments functioning on instinct and muscle memory." I couldn't deny it. The hollowness in Marcus's eyes, the flat affect, the lack of reaction, they were all signs of something fundamentally wrong. This wasn't just grief or trauma. It was soul damage, exactly as Brianna had described.

"How would you even get past the observers?" I asked, shifting tactics. "They're watching your every move." Harper's lips curled into a small, fierce smile that sent heat pooling in my gut despite the seriousness of the conversation. "I have a few ideas about that. Briana is already working on something. "

"Harper-"

"Elias," she cut me off gently. "I have to try. Marcus gave up everything to help us. To help me. I won't leave him broken if I can fix it."

I knew that look in her eyes, that determination set in her jaw. There would be no talking her out of this. And truthfully, I didn't want to. Marcus deserved our help, deserved to be whole again. I just wished I could do more than stand on the sidelines while Harper risked everything.

"Let me help," I said. "Whatever you're planning, I want in."

"You're already helping," she assured me, rising on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth. "I need you to run interference with the observers while I work with Brianna and Drake to set up the ritual."

"Drake?" I couldn't keep the edge from my voice. The ancient vampire Divine Warrior might be an ally, but his interest in Harper had always seemed to run deeper than mere professional concern. Harper gave me a knowing look. 

"He's our best link to Council intelligence, and he knows more about the Neverplain than anyone. We need him." I sighed, acknowledging the truth of her words even as jealousy simmered beneath my skin. 

"Fine. But I'm still not happy about you risking Council punishment. If they catch you breaking their restrictions..."

"They'll what? Throw me in another cell? Put me on trial?" She shrugged, though I could see the tension beneath her casual facade. "They're already doing that. Might as well give them a real reason." I cupped her face between my palms, suddenly overwhelmed by the fierce, reckless courage of this woman who had claimed my heart. 

"Just be careful," I murmured. "Please."

"Always am," she replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. We both knew that wasn't entirely true.

The moment stretched between us, weighted with words unsaid. Then Harper's phone chimed from the bedroom, breaking the tension.

"That'll be Brianna," she said, stepping back. "We're supposed to meet her and Alex for breakfast at Howlers. Neutral ground, where the observers can't complain about me talking to friends." I nodded, reluctantly releasing her. "I'll shower first. You check in with Brianna."

As Harper disappeared into the bedroom to retrieve her phone, I leaned heavily against the counter, my earlier unease returning tenfold. She was already planning her descent into Hell, already calculating risks and angles, and all I could do was provide a distraction. A diversion while she walked into danger. What use was I to her now, without Jax's instincts or the demon's power? Just a man, ordinary and powerless against the forces that threatened to tear her away from me. The fear I'd confessed last night hadn't been vanquished by our intimacy, only temporarily soothed.

I drained the last of my coffee, the liquid gone cold and bitter. One thing was certain: Whatever Harper was planning, whatever risks she was willing to take for Marcus, I would find a way to be more than just a distraction. I might not have my wolf or my demon anymore, but I still had my mind, my determination, and most importantly, my love for her.

It would have to be enough. I would make it enough. Because the alternative, watching helplessly as she descended into Hell without me, was unthinkable.