Chapter 11
930words
As a top-tier Alpha with superior self-healing abilities, a penetrating wound like that should have healed in three days.
But he had been lying in the ICU for a week, and the wound was still festering and bleeding.
The Healer said it was because the Alpha had no will to live; he was actively seeking death.
Megan broke down.
The once arrogant former Luna looked at the weakening curve on the heart monitor and finally laid down her so-called dignity.
With trembling hands, she dialed Bella's number.
Megan cried and begged into the receiver:
"Bella... is that you? Please, save Eric."
"I was wrong before. I was vicious. But Eric is dying."
"His wounds won't heal. He's waiting to die. Please, for the sake of the past, come see him one last time. You're the only one who can wake his will to live."
However, Bella's voice on the other end was calm to the point of cruelty.
"Mrs. Megan, I think you're mistaken. There is no 'past' between Eric and me, only hatred."
"Besides, now is not a good time."
The sound of vegetables being chopped came through the phone.
"My husband, Alex, is in the kitchen making dinner for me. Tonight is our family gathering. I'm very happy."
"To me, those memories of the Pack are like a terrifying cesspit. I struggled hard to crawl out of it."
"If you were me, would you look back at the pit that almost drowned you?"
Megan stunned. She hadn't expected Bella to be so heartless.
"Please tell him not to disturb my life anymore. If he doesn't die, he should live to atone for his sins. If he dies, don't notify me."
"It's what he owes me."
With that, Bella hung up.
Megan's hand shook, and the phone dropped to the floor.
Although Eric was in a coma, he was still conscious enough to hear the entire conversation.
His eyes snapped open.
"No—!!"
A mournful howl tore from his throat.
Ignoring the three layers of fresh sutures on his abdomen, he ripped out the IV tubes attached to his body.
Eric rolled off the bed. His legs couldn't support him, and he crashed heavily to the floor.
He stumbled and crawled toward the door.
"Bella... don't go..."
"Not a cesspit... I'm not a cesspit..."
"Alex isn't your husband... I am..."
He was delirious, his mouth forming only broken phrases.
He wanted to explain, wanted to grab the phone, wanted to tell her "I've changed."
But he was too weak.
He had barely crawled two meters, not even touching the doorknob, before doctors and nurses rushed in and pinned him down.
"Quick! Sedative! Maximum dose!"
The needle pierced his neck. His body went limp, and he could only stare desperately at the white ceiling.
--
Twenty years later.
The Pack territory had changed.
Eric didn't die.
He spent twenty years purging all the Rogues and punishing every wolf who had bullied Bella back then.
He never took another mate, and there were never any scandals.
He adopted an orphan who had lost his parents in the war and carefully groomed him to be the next Alpha.
Just yesterday, the new Alpha's coronation ceremony ended.
With graying hair, Eric left the territory alone.
He took only the long-withered Moonlight Herb.
He arrived at a seaside town.
This was the place he had carefully guarded from afar for twenty years.
He knew Bella was here.
But in twenty years, he had never stepped foot in it.
Because he remembered Bella saying, "Don't disturb my life."
He stood outside a cozy villa. Across a garden full of blooming flowers, he saw a middle-aged Bella.
She was still beautiful.
She wore a wool shawl and was leaning into Alex's embrace.
They were reading a book together, occasionally whispering and smiling at each other.
At their feet, two grown children were playing.
A boy and a girl.
They looked just like Alex and Bella.
Eric stood in the shadows, his hand resting on the garden gate.
If he just pushed this door open, he could walk up to her.
Even if it was just to say, "Long time no see."
Even if it was just to prove that he had truly changed over these twenty years.
He subconsciously lifted his foot to step forward.
But the next second, Bella in the garden seemed to sense something. She looked up in his direction.
Eric pulled his foot back as if electrocuted and quickly retreated into the darkness where the streetlights couldn't reach.
He couldn't go in.
He was the cesspit.
Filth shouldn't stain a clean dress.
Eric touched his pocket.
His fingertips grazed the withered Moonlight Herb.
Twenty years ago, she traded ten years of her life for his safety.
Twenty years later, he traded the loneliness of his remaining life for her peace.
In the end, Eric didn't knock.
He turned and walked toward the abandoned lighthouse across from the town.
A week later.
The lighthouse opposite the villa was bought by a strange old man.
The old man didn't talk much. He just sat at the top of the lighthouse all night, every night, watching the lights in the garden across the way.
No one knew who he was.
And no one knew he once possessed the power to destroy this entire town.
He was just a watcher.
As long as the lights across the way were on, and as long as she was still smiling...
He was willing to be the ghost that never appeared.
