Free Web NovelChapter 41: Chapter 40: THE IMPOSSIBLE FIGHT I
FOUR WEEKS, SEVEN DAYS INTO THE CONTRACT - FRIDAY, 8:00 AM TWENTY-SIX HOURS SINCE SEPARATION
Eve should have been dead.
Dr. Thorne stared at the monitors, then at Eve, then back at the monitors, her expression caught between awe and horror.
"This isn’t possible," she whispered for what had to be the hundredth time in the past six hours. "This simply isn’t possible."
Eve didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. Every ounce of concentration, every fragment of will she possessed, was focused on one single task: holding back the transformation.
The golden marks covered ninety-five percent of her body now. Only small patches of unmarked skin remained....a few inches on her face, the palms of her hands, the soles of her feet. According to everything Dr. Thorne knew about binding spells, once the marks reached this level of coverage, the spell should shatter immediately.
Should have shattered hours ago.
But Eve was holding it back through nothing but sheer, impossible will.
"Temperature is 104.7," Dr. Thorne reported, her voice tight. "Heart rate is 156. Blood pressure is 168 over 102. She’s in severe hypertensive crisis. Her body is literally cooking itself from the inside out."
Mrs. Blackwood wrung her hands, her usual composure cracking. "Can’t you do something? Give her something to bring the fever down?"
"I’ve given her everything I can," Dr. Thorne said, frustration and helplessness warring in her voice. "Fever reducers, IV fluids, pain medication strong enough to drop a horse. Nothing is working because this isn’t a normal fever. This is magical energy with nowhere to go. Her body wants to transform, needs to transform, but she’s holding it back."
"Why?" Mrs. Blackwood asked, though they all knew the answer.
"Because she’s terrified," Dr. Thorne said quietly, moving to check Eve’s pupils with a small light. "She’s terrified of transforming without them here. So she’s fighting her own body, her own nature, defying every law of supernatural physiology I know."
Eve’s eyes flickered, a small sign of consciousness in the otherwise still form. Her lips moved, barely a whisper: "Not... without them..."
"Eve," Dr. Thorne said gently, leaning close. "Eve, I need you to listen to me. You can’t keep doing this. Your body can’t sustain this level of stress. You’re going to die if you don’t let the transformation happen."
"No," Eve managed, the single word taking enormous effort. "Wait... for them..."
"They’re still at least forty-six hours away," Dr. Thorne said, her voice breaking. "You won’t survive that long. You can’t survive that long. No one could."
"Will," Eve whispered. "Have to."
Dr. Thorne turned away, her professional composure finally cracking. "She’s going to kill herself. She’s literally going to will herself to death rather than transform without them."
"Then we call them," Mrs. Blackwood said firmly. "We tell them she’s dying. We tell them to come home now."
"The children....." Dr. Thorne started.
"Are not as important as her life," Mrs. Blackwood interrupted fiercely. "I love those children. I would die to protect any pack member. But she is their mate. Their soul bond. If she dies, they will never recover. The pack will never recover. We call them. Now."
Dr. Thorne hesitated for only a moment before pulling out her phone.
FRIDAY, 10:00 AM TWENTY-EIGHT HOURS SINCE SEPARATION
The call went to voicemail.
Dr. Thorne tried again. And again. And again.
"They’re probably in the middle of handling the situation," Mrs. Blackwood said, trying to sound reassuring. "They’ll call back as soon as they can."
But Eve was deteriorating by the minute.
The small patches of unmarked skin were shrinking.....the golden marks creeping across her face now, tracing delicate patterns along her cheekbones and forehead. Her hands were completely covered, glowing so brightly it hurt to look at them directly.
"Temperature is 105.2," Dr. Thorne said, her voice hollow. "That’s... that’s entering potentially fatal territory. Brain damage becomes likely at 106."
Eve’s breathing had become shallow and rapid, her chest rising and falling in quick, desperate movements. Sweat soaked through the sheets despite the fever reducers. Her skin was so hot to the touch that Dr. Thorne had started applying ice packs, though they melted within minutes.
"She’s seizing," Mrs. Blackwood said suddenly, pointing to Eve’s hands.
They were trembling....not the full-body convulsions of a grand mal seizure, but small, localized tremors that spoke of a neurological system pushed beyond its limits.
"Shit," Dr. Thorne grabbed anti-seizure medication, injecting it quickly. "If she has a full seizure in this state, with her temperature this high, it could cause permanent brain damage."
"Will she survive this?" Mrs. Blackwood asked, the question she’d been holding back for hours finally breaking free.
Dr. Thorne was silent for a long moment. Then: "I don’t know. By every medical metric I have, she should already be dead. The fact that she’s still conscious, still fighting....it defies explanation. But there are limits even to supernatural physiology. Even to willpower. And she’s approaching those limits fast."
Eve’s phone, sitting on the nightstand, suddenly lit up with an incoming call.
Mrs. Blackwood grabbed it. "It’s Damian."
"Answer it," Dr. Thorne ordered. "Put it on speaker."
Mrs. Blackwood accepted the call. "Master Damian....."
"How is she?" Damian’s voice came through immediately, tight with barely controlled panic. "I saw thirteen missed calls from Dr. Thorne. What’s happening?"
"She’s dying," Dr. Thorne said bluntly, taking the phone. "She’s holding back the transformation through sheer willpower, and it’s killing her. Temperature is 105.2. Heart rate is 162. She’s had minor seizures. Her organs are starting to shut down from the stress."
Silence. Then: "How long does she have?"
"Hours," Dr. Thorne said. "Maybe less. Her body can’t sustain this much longer. She needs to transform, but she’s too terrified to do it without you here." freeweɓnovel.cѳm
"We’re still two days out," Damian said, and the anguish in his voice was raw enough to make both women wince. "We’re in the middle of the challenge. Konstantin has the children in a fortified position. We can’t just walk away..."
"Then she dies," Dr. Thorne interrupted. "That’s the choice. The children or your mate. Choose."
Another long silence. Then Damian’s voice, harder now, colder: "How long can you keep her alive? Maximum. If we move fast, if we handle this in hours instead of days, how long do we have?"
Dr. Thorne looked at Eve’s failing body. "Twelve hours. Maybe eighteen if I put her in a medically induced coma to reduce the strain on her system. But that’s the absolute maximum, and there’s no guarantee she’ll wake up from the coma."
"Keep her alive," Damian said, his voice like steel. "Whatever it takes. We’re ending this now. We’re coming home."
"The children...." Mrs. Blackwood started.
"Will be saved in the next six hours or they won’t be saved at all," Damian said grimly. "We’re out of time for careful strategy. It’s time for brutality. Tell her—" His voice broke slightly. "Tell her we’re coming. Tell her to hold on just a little longer. Tell her we love her more than anything in this world."
"I will," Dr. Thorne promised.
The call ended.
Dr. Thorne moved to Eve’s side, smoothing the sweat-soaked hair back from her burning forehead. "Did you hear that? They’re coming home. They’re ending this now and they’re coming home to you. You just need to hold on a little longer."
Eve’s eyes opened....just a crack, barely conscious, but aware enough to understand.
"How... long?" she whispered.
"Twelve hours," Dr. Thorne said. "Can you give me twelve more hours?"
A pause. Then, so faint it was almost inaudible: "Try."
"That’s my girl," Dr. Thorne said, her voice thick with emotion. "Now I’m going to put you in a medically induced coma. It will reduce the strain on your body, give you a better chance of surviving until they get here. Is that okay?"
"Will I... wake up?" Eve asked.
Dr. Thorne couldn’t lie. "I don’t know. There’s a risk you won’t. But if you keep fighting like this while conscious, you’ll definitely die. The coma gives you a chance."
"Okay," Eve breathed. "Do it."
"You’re so brave," Mrs. Blackwood said, tears streaming down her face. "So incredibly brave."
Dr. Thorne prepared the medication....a carefully calibrated dose designed to shut down Eve’s consciousness without completely suppressing her already stressed system.
"Before I do this," Dr. Thorne said, "is there anything you want to say? Anything you need us to tell them if...." She couldn’t finish the sentence.
"Tell them..." Eve’s eyes were already closing, exhaustion and fever pulling her under. "Tell them I fought... because I love them... Tell them I’m sorry... if I don’t make it... Tell them it wasn’t their fault..."
"You’ll tell them yourself," Dr. Thorne said firmly, even as her hands shook preparing the injection. "You’re going to survive this. You hear me? You’re going to survive."
But Eve was already unconscious, her body finally surrendering to the overwhelming stress.
Dr. Thorne injected the medication, watching as Eve’s vital signs shifted into the slower, steadier rhythm of a medically induced coma.
"Now what?" Mrs. Blackwood asked.
"Now we wait," Dr. Thorne said, sinking into the chair beside the bed. "We monitor her every second. We pray that twelve hours is enough time for them to get here. And we hope that she’s strong enough to survive until they do."
She looked at the monitors....at the dangerous vital signs, at the golden marks covering nearly every inch of Eve’s skin, at the binding spell that was moments from shattering.
"Hold on," she whispered. "Just hold on a little longer. They’re coming."
