Chapter 13: I'm Free

Ember POV:

The phone rang at exactly three in the morning.

The sound shattered the peaceful silence of the bedroom.

I opened my eyes instantly.

Beside me, Derek was already awake.

Years of Alpha instincts made light sleeping a necessity.

He reached for the phone and glanced at the caller ID.

His expression darkened.

"It's from Silver Moon Hospital."

My stomach tightened.

I already knew what it meant.

Derek handed me the phone.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Blackwood?" a nurse asked gently.

The use of my married name still felt strange.

"Yes."

"It's your brother, Axel."

"His condition has deteriorated significantly."

"Multiple organ failure."

"The doctors don't believe he has much time left."

"He has been asking for you."

Silence filled the room.

I stared into the darkness.

For years, I dreamed of hearing those words.

Not because I wanted him dead.

Because I wanted him to understand.

To finally realize what he had done.

Now that moment had arrived.

And somehow it didn't feel satisfying.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

The call ended.

Derek's hand settled on my shoulder.

"Do you want to go?"

I thought about it.

About the little girl who once worshipped her brothers.

About the teenager who spent years begging for their love.

About the woman who nearly died in a rainstorm because they abandoned her.

"Yes," I answered.

"Why?"

I looked toward the window.

Snow was falling outside.

"To finish it."

Neither of us spoke after that.

An hour later, we were on the road.

The journey passed in silence.

The world outside was white and still.

Snow covered the roads.

The trees.

The mountains.

Everything.

The same kind of storm that had existed the night I left.

Except this time, I wasn't alone.

Derek's hand remained wrapped around mine the entire drive.

Steady.

Warm.

Real.

When we arrived at the hospital, the smell hit me immediately.

Antiseptic.

Medicine.

Death.

Some things never changed.

Ryker was waiting outside the ICU.

For a moment, I barely recognized him.

He looked years older.

His shoulders were slumped.

Dark circles hung beneath his eyes.

The proud Alpha was gone.

Only a broken man remained.

"Ember."

His voice cracked.

"He waited for you."

"The doctors said he shouldn't still be conscious."

"But he refused to let go."

I nodded.

Then walked past him.

The ICU room was quiet.

Too quiet.

Machines beeped softly around the bed.

Axel lay motionless beneath white sheets.

His skin was pale and gray.

His body looked fragile.

Small.

Nothing like the powerful doctor I remembered.

For a long moment, I simply stood there.

Looking at him.

Remembering.

The brother who once carried me on his shoulders.

The brother who taught me how to ride a bicycle.

The brother who later destroyed me.

His eyes slowly opened.

They found mine immediately.

Tears filled them.

His lips moved around the breathing tube.

No sound came out.

But I understood.

I'm sorry.

The words were obvious.

He mouthed them again.

And again.

And again.

As though repeating them enough times could somehow fix everything.

It couldn't.

Nothing could.

I looked down at his hands.

Hands that once protected me.

Hands that later signed away my future.

Hands that delivered years of pain.

Slowly, I reached forward and took one.

It was cold.

Weak.

Fragile.

I felt no anger anymore.

Only sadness.

Not for him.

For us.

For the family we could have been.

"You don't have to fight anymore," I said softly.

Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks.

His eyes widened desperately.

He wanted forgiveness.

I could see it.

He wanted me to tell him everything was okay.

That I still loved him.

That he could leave peacefully.

But some lies are too cruel to tell.

"Go to sleep, Axel."

His hand tightened weakly around mine.

"Go find Mom and Dad."

"Tell them what happened."

"Maybe they'll forgive you."

The hope inside his eyes shattered.

He understood.

I wasn't forgiving him.

Not today.

Not ever.

But I wasn't punishing him either.

I was simply letting him go.

A single tear slipped down his face.

Then his grip weakened.

The monitor beside the bed let out a long, continuous tone.

Beeeeeeeeeeep.

The line flattened.

Doctors rushed into the room.

Nurses followed.

Voices filled the space.

"Time of death, 4:12 AM."

I released his hand.

The story was over.

I walked out of the room.

Ryker was waiting outside.

The moment he heard the flatline, he collapsed.

His back hit the wall.

Then he slid to the floor.

A broken sound escaped him.

Half sob.

Half howl.

Pure grief.

"He's gone," Ryker whispered.

I said nothing.

There was nothing left to say.

After several minutes, I buttoned my coat.

Derek waited near the elevator.

I started walking toward him.

"Ember."

Ryker's voice stopped me.

I turned around.

His eyes were full of tears.

"Don't leave."

"Please."

"You're all I have left."

For a moment, I saw the brother I used to love.

The brother who promised to protect me.

The brother who failed.

"You have your pack," I said quietly.

"I don't want the pack."

"I want my sister."

The words came too late.

Years too late.

"I was your sister."

"And you chose someone else."

His face crumpled.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"Please..."

"Goodbye, Alpha Ryker."

I used his title deliberately.

Not brother.

Not Ry.

Alpha Ryker.

A wall between us that could never be crossed again.

His eyes closed.

He understood.

I turned away.

Derek stepped beside me.

Together, we entered the elevator.

The doors closed.

Cutting off the sound of Ryker's sobbing.

When we stepped outside, the snow had stopped.

The clouds were beginning to part.

Moonlight broke through the darkness.

The air felt clean.

Fresh.

New.

Derek opened the passenger door for me.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I looked up at the clearing sky.

For years, pain had lived inside my chest.

Anger.

Grief.

Loneliness.

Regret.

Now it was gone.

Not because I had forgiven them.

Not because justice had been served.

But because I had finally let it go.

"I'm free," I said.

A slow smile appeared on Derek's face.

I climbed into the car.

Then reached for his hand.

He squeezed it immediately.

Warm.

Safe.

Home.

The engine started.

The hospital disappeared behind us.

Along with the brothers.

The memories.

And the pain.

For the first time in my life, I wasn't running from something.

I was driving toward something.

A future.

A family.

A home.

As the first rays of dawn appeared on the horizon, I rested my head against the window and smiled.

This chapter of my life was finally over.

And a better one was just beginning.

THE END.