Sold To The Alphas I Hate novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82: Insufferable, Arrogant Bastards

Liam’s POV

When I entered the room, Eira was still in a deep sleep. I expected her to wake soon—there were things I needed to speak to her about.

I pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, reaching for her wrist to check her pulse. Last night, it had been erratic from the sudden shock her body had endured when she used her powers. Now, it was steady.

Good.

She stirred slightly beneath the sheets, perhaps sensing my presence. I was about to call her name when I noticed the distress etched across her face. Her brows were drawn, her lips moving faintly. She was still caught in the grip of some nightmare.

I let her be, listening as she murmured weakly, "Alice... I am sorry... Don’t leave me, please... I am sorry..."

Poor soul. Still chained to the past. I could see her pain—the raw wound of losing her friend. Yet the question would always remain: why had she killed Alice? Maybe one day she would tell me. Until then, I would wait.

"Eira..." I finally said, keeping my voice gentle so as not to startle her.

Her brows furrowed further at the sound, and then her eyes flew open, wide with shock. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath harsh, as if she had been pulled from drowning. Beads of sweat glistened along her forehead. She looked terrified.

"Are you alright?" I asked quietly.

Her gaze found mine, and in an instant she sat upright, gripping my hand tightly—her fingers digging into my skin. "Alice..." She shook her head sharply. "No... Lucian... he... where is he? He’s—"

"He’s alright. Alive and perfectly fine," I told her before she could spiral further.

She exhaled a deep, shaky breath and released my hand, my words slowly sinking in.

"You saved him—just in time—using your powers. Without that, we would have lost him," I said.

Her eyes fixed on mine, but there was puzzlement there, as though she didn’t understand what I was saying.

I pulled out my phone and quickly sent a message to Kael, asking him to send me the video file. Then I looked back at her.

"I’ll explain it to you in a moment," I promised. "But the truth is—you saved him."

She stayed quiet, her expression vacant, as though her mind couldn’t quite process what I had said.

So I asked, "Are you relieved that he’s alive?"

Her gaze wavered, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her eyes before she lowered her head. "I don’t want anyone to die because of me. I just... want myself to die. But death betrays me every time."

"Would it have hurt you if Lucian—or any of them—had died?" I pressed.

Her head snapped up, a hint of irritation in her eyes. "Didn’t I just say I don’t want anyone to die because of me?"

Before I could respond, my phone vibrated with a message—the video file from Kael. I opened it, turned the screen toward her, and let her watch.

Her expression shifted to one of disbelief as she saw herself—the glow pouring from her hands into Lucian’s chest, her scream, and her collapse.

When it ended, I said simply, "See? You saved him using your power. You’re a healer."

She stared down at her hands, turning them over slowly, as if searching for some trace of the magic she’d just witnessed. Her eyes told me she didn’t believe it—not yet.

"So it was your first time using your power?" I asked, though my tone made it more of a conclusion than a question.

She frowned faintly. "It never happened before..."

"Well, if you can use your power, that means your wolf is still there—and strong," I told her. "It won’t be long until you’re fully in sync with her again. And then you’ll go through all the milestones in a werewolf’s life. Shifting. Heat."

Her face tightened, her lack of enthusiasm plain. And why would she be thrilled? She had no reason to be.

I glanced down at her injured toes—they were almost healed. Likely the stronger presence of her wolf had accelerated her self-healing, though not completely.

"The nails will grow back soon," I said, reaching for the bandages to wrap them again.

But before I could, she suddenly sprang from the bed and bolted for the door.

"Eira—" I called after her, but she didn’t stop.

Unease coiled in my gut. I hurried after her, one thought echoing in my mind: I hope she’s not trying to take her own life again.

She was already descending the stairs at a dangerous pace. "Be careful," I warned sharply. "Don’t fall."

She didn’t listen. Instead, she sprinted through the drawing room, heading straight toward the wall-sized glass window that faced the side house.

Kael, Roman, and Rafe were already in the drawing room. Seeing her, they rose to their feet, their eyes shifting to me with silent questions.

"I don’t know," I told them quickly, breaking into a run after her. They followed without hesitation.

Outside, the ground was still littered with shards of broken glass as the servants continued clearing the estate. She didn’t care. She ran barefoot over them, the sharp edges slicing into her skin, leaving crimson marks in her wake—yet she moved as if she felt no pain at all.

"Eira..." I called after her, trying to slow her, but she didn’t stop.

I stared at her in silence. I wanted to ask, What about your own pain?

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