Feral Bonds: Claimed By Rogue Alpha Brothers

Rowan:

Nurse Faye, bless her heart, was always considerate. She quietly moved around the room, drawing the curtains so the three of us could have some semblance of privacy.

The air was still heavy with antiseptic and the faint hum of machines, but the softer lighting made it feel less like a sterile hospital room and more like… a place where memories could still exist.

Eva sank into the chair closest to Naira's bedside, her movements careful, almost reverent. I pulled another chair closer and sat down beside her, my eyes falling on Naira's pale, unmoving face.

My hand instinctively reached out, wrapping around hers. Her skin was cold... too cold for someone who should be young and vibrant, running around, laughing, complaining about me forgetting to eat.

"Hey, Naira," I said softly, forcing a smile that cracked at the edges. "It's me again. I know, I know, you are tired of me talking your ear off when you can't even tell me to shut up." A bitter chuckle escaped me, but my voice trembled. "How have you been?"

Of course, there was no reply. There never was. Still, I couldn't stop myself from asking. Maybe some foolish part of me believed she could hear, tucked somewhere in the void she was lost in.

I glanced at Eva. For a moment, I debated putting the mask back on - the steady, unshakeable Rowan that everyone knew. But Eva… she had already seen too much. Seen me snap, seen me falter, seen the cracks in the armor I built so carefully over the years. And she never judged. Never pulled away. Somehow, with her, I didn't feel the need to pretend.

My throat tightened as I spoke again, this time to Naira. "Remember I told you I had a friend I wanted to bring to meet you?" My voice lowered, breaking slightly. "Well, she's here."

I lifted my free hand and reached for Eva's, warm and alive in contrast to Naira's lifeless one. Slowly, I placed Eva's palm on top of Naira's hand, so the three of us were connected. My chest ached as I looked between them.

"This is Eva," I said gently. "My little sister." I swallowed, my jaw clenching before I forced the words out. "And Eva, this is Naira… my childhood friend, my love, my only family before you stepped into my life."

Eva didn't say much. She didn't need to. Her amber eyes softened, glistening faintly under the dim light, and a small, warm smile touched her lips. There was no pity in her expression, only understanding. Deep, unspoken understanding.

Her fingers squeezed lightly, pressing both mine and Naira's hands. "She's beautiful," Eva whispered, and I almost broke right there.

For a long moment, silence filled the room. It wasn't empty silence, though... it was heavy, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. Then, softly, Eva asked, "Will you… tell me what really happened with Naira?"

The words dug deep. Nobody else had asked me that, not like this. Everyone wanted surface-level answers, something quick they could package neatly into sympathy. But Eva wasn't asking for a summary. She wanted the truth.

And I wanted to give it to her.

I hadn't told anyone outside of the authorities and the doctors. But Eva wasn't just anyone. She was my sister, my family. And if I couldn't trust her with this, then who else?

I drew in a shaky breath, still holding Naira's hand as though letting go would shatter me.

"It was last March," I began, my voice hoarse. "She had a shift at the little café near the town where we lived. Just a normal evening, nothing out of the ordinary. I was supposed to meet her after, but something came up with work and I was late." My jaw clenched at the memory, the guilt still as raw as it had been that night. "When I called her, she didn't answer. At first, I thought maybe she was still busy or her phone died, but… Naira never ignored my calls. Not once."

The images came back in fragments - my worry building, the way my heart pounded harder with every unanswered call.

"I went to the café, but they told me she had left hours ago. That she left the moment her shift ended. That's when panic hit me. She had never done anything like that before. And there had been… reports of rogues in the area recently." My hand tightened over Naira's, the memory of dread crawling up my spine all over again.

"It started raining," I continued, my voice dropping. "Pouring so hard I couldn't see properly. But I ran through the streets, checked every corner, every path she might have taken. When I couldn't find her, I shifted into my wolf and searched the woods. I was half out of my mind."

I swallowed hard, my eyes burning. "I found her by a stream, just before midnight. She wasn't hurt. Not a scratch. Not robbed. Nothing. Just lying there… unconscious."

Eva's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't interrupt. She just listened.

"I carried her to a healer first," I said, my voice breaking now. "But the healer couldn't find anything wrong. Nothing physical. Nothing magical. She told me to take her here, to Greenville Hospital."

I paused, dragging in a trembling breath. "The doctors checked her. Healers checked her. They all said the same thing. She wasn't injured, wasn't poisoned, wasn't attacked. She was just… asleep. In a coma. There was no reason. No explanation."

My throat closed, the memory of that first night clawing at me. "I sat by her side until morning, waiting for her to wake up. She didn't. Not that day, not the next. They had to put her on life-support. They still couldn't tell me why. And it's been eleven months."

Tears finally spilled down my face. I had held them back for so long, but saying it aloud tore something inside me wide open. "Eleven months, Eva. And she still hasn't woken up."

By the time I finished, my voice was broken, my body trembling with the weight of everything I had kept buried.

I didn't expect it, but I felt Eva's hand brush against my cheek, wiping away the tears that wouldn't stop. Then, without hesitation, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me.

Her embrace was warm. Grounding. Human in a way nothing else had been in months.

She didn't whisper empty promises like others did. Didn't tell me "everything will be alright." Didn't urge me to be strong.

Instead, her voice was soft against my ear. "Cry, Rowan. Let it out. I'm here. For you… and for Naira."

And those words broke me completely.

I buried my face against her shoulder, gripping her tightly as sobs I hadn't let myself feel in nearly a year wracked through me. The dam I had built inside finally shattered. And for once, I let myself fall apart.