The Only Thing Left Of Him

Chapter Fifty Four : The Only Thing Left of Him

Selene’s POV

The wind was colder than I remembered.

As Lucien helped me step into the king’s territory again—Evric’s pack—I felt a chill run through my spine, and it wasn’t just from the weather. This place still held the weight of silence. The house stood tall, dark, and distant like the king who ruled it.

My body still ached. Every step was heavy, and my wolf inside me barely stirred. It was like she was grieving too, quiet and curled up inside me. I hadn’t heard her speak since Ronan disappeared.

Evric didn’t say much. He just led us inside, his eyes unreadable, his presence sharp. Every wolf bowed when he passed, even Lucien lowered his eyes slightly. Evric was the kind of king who didn’t need to raise his voice. One look from him could silence a room.

The inside of his house was still the same—cold walls, large empty halls, quiet. No warmth. No laughter. No scent of joy.

Lucien helped me sit gently on the edge of the bed in the guest room. It was the same room I had stayed in before. The bed creaked as I sat. I held my hands together tightly, pressing my palms to hide the shaking.

Lucien glanced around, frowning. “How did you stay here, Selene?” he asked quietly. “This place… it feels like a prison.”

I looked down at my hands. “It wasn’t a prison,” I whispered. “Not really.”

He sat beside me, concern in his eyes. “But Evric… he’s not exactly gentle.”

I nodded slowly. “He’s not cold to me. Not always. He saved me. He didn’t say much, but… he gave me food, let me rest. He didn’t ask for anything. Sometimes, when I couldn’t sleep, I’d find him sitting outside the door. Silent. Just… watching.”

Lucien didn’t answer. I knew he didn’t understand.

Tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them. I bit my lip, trying to stay strong, but the ache inside me was too much.

“I miss him,” I said finally, the words choking me. “Lucien… I miss him so much.”

My voice broke, and I covered my face with my hands. I could feel my whole body shaking. My heart felt too heavy. My chest was tight. I couldn’t breathe properly. The room blurred through my tears.

Lucien pulled me close gently. “Selene, don’t cry too much. Please,” he whispered. “You need to stay strong. You’re not alone.”

“I don’t feel strong,” I sobbed. “I feel like I’m breaking apart.”

He held me carefully, rubbing my back in slow circles. “You’re carrying a piece of him,” he said softly. “You’re not alone, Selene. That baby growing inside you—it’s part of Ronan. The only part left of him right now.”

I looked down at my stomach, placing a trembling hand over it.

“He didn’t leave me, right?” I asked, voice thin like a thread. “He said he’d come back. He said…”

“He will,” Lucien said firmly. “Ronan doesn’t lie to you. He’s just… lost right now. But he’ll come back. You have to believe that.”

“I talk to him in my dreams,” I whispered. “Sometimes I feel his scent in the wind. Like he’s close. But when I reach for him… he’s gone.”

Lucien brushed my hair back gently. “He’ll come back for you. For his pup. So don’t hurt yourself, Selene. Don’t cry too much. Your body is weak now. You need to protect the baby. It’s your bond. Your hope.”

I wiped my tears, but they kept falling. I leaned my head on Lucien’s shoulder. “It’s so quiet here. Too quiet. I wish I could hear his laugh again… even just once.”

Lucien didn’t say anything for a while. Then he stood.

“I’ll go make you something,” he said. “Some herbs to help you heal. You’ve bled too much inside, Selene. You need warmth. Strength. I’ll bring it.”

I nodded slowly, wiping my face again. “Thank you, Lucien.”

He paused at the door. “Promise me you won’t cry alone. Not for long. Just talk to him, even if he’s not here. Your heart knows the way back to him.”

I gave him a small, weak smile. “I will.”

When he left, I sat there, still and small on the big bed. My hand stayed over my stomach, and I closed my eyes.

“I’m still here,” I whispered to the space around me. “I haven’t given up on you.”

And deep inside me, my wolf stirred for a second—just a tiny flicker of warmth.

Maybe she still believed too.