NOVEL WEB Chapter 67: Chapter 65 : Give and Take
The sunlight filtering through the cracked window traced gentle patterns across the room. Luna stirred awake first, her arms still loosely wrapped around Alex. The steady rhythm of his breathing—once calm through the night—had turned ragged and uneven. She blinked slowly, her gaze sharpening as her eyes landed on him.
Alex lay beside her, his body tense, his shirt damp with sweat as if he'd been running through fire and ice in his dreams. His face was pale, jaw clenched, his expression a mix of torment and confusion. Beads of sweat rolled down his temple, pooling on the pillow.
"Alex?" Luna whispered softly, reaching out instinctively to touch his arm.
At her voice, his eyes shot open, dark and unfocused. For a moment, they stared at each other in silence—him blinking, breathing hard, as if trying to make sense of where he was. His gaze settled on her face, and for the first time in a long time, he looked... haunted.
"Who... who are you?" His voice was hoarse, barely audible, but the weight of the question struck her like a blow. "What are you?"
Luna froze, the words sinking in. "What?"
"You're not human," he rasped, his eyes boring into hers. They were raw, searching, as if peeling her apart layer by layer. "You can't be. I—I saw things. Things that don't make sense. Things that... I can't explain."
Luna didn't flinch; she didn't even blink. She just stared at him, her expression unreadable, guarded. "Don't you already know?" she asked, her voice low and steady. "Don't you remember everything?"
Alex shook his head, his confusion etched deeply across his face. "I..." His voice faltered, heavy breaths betraying his turmoil. His fists gripped the blanket tightly, as if it were the only thing grounding him. "I saw it. I saw you. Us. I saw moments—fragments—things that felt like they happened. But... they didn't. Did they?"
Her eyes widened slightly at his words, her mind spinning. Before she could respond, Alex's gaze darkened, shadowed by something raw and undefined.
"It was real," he began, his voice trembling with confusion and frustration, "but it felt like it wasn't mine. Like... like I was watching it through someone else's eyes. Like a dream where you feel everything, but you know it's not your life. Why? What did you do to me?"
His voice cracked as he spoke, his emotions threatening to spill over. The weight of the memories pressed down on him like a tidal wave, drowning him in questions he couldn't answer. His fists clenched tighter, his breathing uneven, as if his body struggled to contain the storm raging within him.
And then, like shards of glass piercing through the fog, the last fragments of his long, fragmented dreams flickered across his mind.
"You can return," the figure had said, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to echo through the void. "But everything comes with a price. You must give up something you cherish the most."
Alex's face froze, his thoughts spinning as he grappled with the weight of that memory. He looked lost, his eyes distant as if staring into something only he could see.
Luna watched him, her own expression slipping for a moment into one of sorrow. She knew. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in the air between them. He had remembered, but he hadn't truly felt.
"What you saw," she began softly, her voice heavy with regret, "was real. Every part of it. But you... you gave up what you cherished the most. It's gone now." Her words wavered, and though her lips stopped moving, her mind screamed the truth she couldn't say aloud: Your memories of me. Your feelings for me. They're all gone.
She swallowed hard, her eyes glistening with an emotion she refused to let fall. "Even if... somehow... the memories have returned," she continued, "the feelings won't. They're lost to you. And that..." she hesitated, her voice breaking slightly, "isn't such a bad bargain. Because you're alive. You're breathing. And that's what mattered most to me."
Alex's head snapped up, his expression a twisted blend of anger and disbelief. He suddenly remembered how his memories were twisted last time as if it was yesterday. "Who are you to decide that?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Who gave you the right to make that choice for me? and about all the people out there - their memories ? are we just puppets for you ?" His fists unclenched only to slam against the bed. "You gods... you think you can just erase things... rewrite what doesn't fit your perfect little narrative."
Luna flinched as his words struck her, each one landing like a physical blow. It was like the time they met in front of the cafe - where he felt nothing but hatered for her.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she realised after everything they went together - they are back at square one.
Her face betrayed a flicker of pain, and Alex saw it—felt it.
For a brief moment, guilt flickered across his face, but the fire in his voice had already been unleashed. His mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came. He froze, unsure of how to take back what he'd just said.
She turned her head slightly, a small, dejected smile tugging at her lips. It wasn't a smile of joy, but one of quiet acceptance. "Try losing someone you love in front of your eyes," she said softly, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "Then you'll understand why some choices aren't choices at all. Why losing them, even if it doesn't kill you, takes away everything that makes living bearable."
She swallowed hard, her mind drifting to a memory—a conversation with Charlie, her voice back then laced with certainty. "Losing someone you love can't kill you. It hurts, but you'll survive." How wrong she'd been.
Her chest tightened, the weight of the irony crashing down on her. She had believed that once. But when she saw Alex die in front of her, it hadn't just hurt. It had shattered her into a thousand pieces.
How ironic her words felt now, as she remembered the moment Alex's life had slipped away before her eyes. The sound of his fading breath, the stillness that followed... it had shattered her. It had taken everything she had left to even exist after that moment.
Luna's voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes fixed on the floor. "When I saw you dying... it was as if the last piece of my will to live splintered into a million pieces. And yet... here you are, alive. That's all that matters. Even if you hate me for it."
Alex stared at her, his chest tightening with a storm of conflicting emotions. He wanted to argue, to fight back, but her words had already sunk deep, echoing in his mind like whispers in a vast, empty room. The pain in her eyes was undeniable, raw and unshielded. She had given up so much for him. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to say anything—not when he was drowning in the perplexing reality of the memories he had seen. Memories that felt so vivid yet so devoid of the emotions that should have come with them.
What was real? What wasn't?
The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Neither knew what to say, their emotions tangled in knots too complex to untangle in a single moment.
Alex let out a long, controlled sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. The sweat clung to his shirt, making the fabric stick to the defined muscles of his chest and shoulders. His wet hair fell messily across his forehead, framing his sharp, rugged features. He looked... majestic, even now, a king standing amidst chaos.
Luna dared not look at him. She couldn't. Her back rested against the bed frame, her knees drawn up slightly as her gaze drifted toward the window. Outside, the night was restless, a heavy shroud of clouds blotting out the moon. A soft, cold wind swayed the bare branches of a nearby tree, their shadows dancing eerily against the dim glow of lanterns in the distance. Beyond that, the forest stretched endlessly, an infinite abyss of darkness.
An unexplainable sadness clung to her, a darkness so deep it felt as though it might swallow her whole. It lingered in her eyes, dulled her breathing, and weighed her down until even the air felt heavy.
Alex moved, his bare feet brushing against the wooden floor. He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, as if searching for answers in her downcast eyes. But Luna refused to meet his gaze. She remained still, her focus fixed on the restless night beyond the window.
Finally, Alex turned toward the door, his jaw tight as if bracing himself to leave.
"Alex," Luna's voice broke the silence, soft yet firm.
Alex froze, his hand hovering near the doorknob. Slowly, he turned to face her, his brow furrowing in quiet anticipation.
"About your people."she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
Her choice of words wasn't lost on him—your people. Not ours. His chest tightened again, and his breath hitched. He didn't ask, but a flicker of realization settled uneasily in the back of his mind.
Luna finally lifted her eyes to him, her gaze distant yet filled with resolve. "After the war with Quintus... there was a pact," she began. "Between the witches, the elders, and... the new Moon Goddess." Her words carried a weight that made Alex's gut churn.
A new Moon Goddess ?
"The witches agreed to stay out of wolf territories," she continued, her voice steady now, though sadness tinged its edges. "And in return, the wolves gained certain protections against them. Leverage, if you will. But the witches asked for something in exchange."
Alex's eyes narrowed slightly, his shoulders tensing but he didnt say anything.
"They wanted all evidence of their involvement in the Quintus and Dorothy... mess erased. Every trace, every memory of their actions and any witches involvement during that time, wiped clean from the minds of wolves and humans alike."
The words hung in the air like a blade poised to strike.
"It was for the better," Luna said softly, her voice steady yet carrying a weight that seemed to sink the room into silence. "For both our races. To end the grudges, the hate, and the cycle of destruction." Her gaze fell to the floor, unable to meet his piercing stare. "So they agreed to it. For the peace of your people."
Alex's jaw tightened, his fists curling at his sides as he absorbed the truth.
"My people," he said bitterly, his voice quiet but sharp as a blade. "You mean my people, don't you? Not yours."