The Silent Luna's Trial (Maple and Finn) novel Chapter 72

**When the Last Candle Sang to the Ocean Wind by Aurelion Kyre Solvane**

Thorne’s heart raced as he sped through the streets, urgency coursing through his veins. He couldn’t bear the weight of the silence any longer. Finally, he had mustered the courage to dial that number—the one that had been etched in his mind like a haunting melody.

Two hours later, the hospital loomed before them, a sterile fortress of flickering lights and hushed whispers. A group of people entered, their faces a mixture of concern and dread. At the forefront was Matthias, the once-mighty Alpha of the Stormwatch Pack and the man who had shaped Dante’s lineage. As he crossed the threshold into the hospital room, his expression hardened, transforming into a mask of anguish upon seeing his grandson—a shadow of his former self—lying helplessly on the bed.

In the corner, a nurse struggled to insert an IV into Dante’s frail hand. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air, but it was nothing compared to the suffocating atmosphere of despair that enveloped them. Just as the nurse was about to secure the drip, Dante, with a sudden burst of defiance, yanked the needle out with a grimace.

“Please, just let me be,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but the nurse was undeterred. She sighed, steeling herself for another attempt. Yet, as if possessed by a force beyond his control, Dante pulled the needle out once more, this time causing a jagged tear in his vein that painted his skin with a vivid streak of crimson.

Matthias, unable to witness this torment any longer, gripped his cane with white-knuckled fury. With a swift motion, he brought it down harshly against Dante’s back, the sickening crack echoing through the room like a death knell.

“Get up!” he bellowed, his voice reverberating off the sterile walls.

Dante lifted his gaze, his eyes searching for a glimmer of hope, a final thread of salvation. But the words that escaped his lips were heavy with resignation. “Grandpa… I want to be with Evelyn. Please, let me go to her.”

His voice cracked, a fragile plea that shattered the air between them. “I want to be buried with her. Can you talk to her parents for me?”

Matthias felt a chill run down his spine as his face turned ashen, the usually stern lines of his features twisting into something almost monstrous. In a moment of sheer desperation, he seized Dante by the collar, his grip fierce, and poured a bucket of ice water over his face, the cold shock jolting Dante back to reality.

“Look at what you’ve become!” Matthias roared, his voice laced with a mix of anger and sorrow. “Out of all the Alpha bloodlines, you are by far the most pathetic!”

Dante slowly raised his head, his gaze drawn to the window. The reflection staring back at him was a haunting specter—sunken cheeks, lifeless eyes, a man who had become a mere shell of his former self. The despair radiating from him was palpable, a dark aura that clung to him like a shroud. He had truly lost himself since Evelyn’s departure.

Five years ago, they had made a vow—a promise to grow old together, to honor the sacred bond of mates. Yet, somewhere along the winding path of life, he had strayed. He had grown restless, bored with their tranquil existence, and sought out the thrill that came with reckless abandon. Watching his friends bask in the attention of women had ignited a reckless fire within him, one that led him down a treacherous path of betrayal.

The weight of his actions crashed down upon him like a tidal wave. In a fit of rage, he punched the wall, feeling the sharp sting of pain as blood oozed from his knuckles. It was all his fault. He had shattered their mate bond, obliterated everything they had built together. If only he had kept Evelyn close, she would never have been in that car, never would have met her tragic fate.

Matthias studied his grandson, whose face was now marred with regret and sorrow. A deep sigh escaped his lips, heavy with the burden of lost hope. Once, Dante had been a commanding Alpha, the pride of his lineage, but now he seemed ready to throw it all away for a love that had turned to ashes.

With a heavy heart, Matthias gestured for Thorne to come closer. “Clean him up,” he instructed, his voice low but firm. “Wash his face, shave that beard.”

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