My fingers tighten around the phone 83

Ethan’s POV
After leaving a stunned Leo behind, I took the elevator up to my private suite in the Shadow Fang territory. I rushed
through a quick shower and changed into casual clothes, my mind never straying from the image of Aria struggling with
a sick Lucas. I instructed David to prepare an extensive collection of supplies needed for caring for the ill—children’s fever medication, electrolyte drinks, light soups, cooling patches, and fresh towels. I also had someone purchase a car seat
identical to the one Lucas normally used and arranged for it to be installed in one of our vehicles and delivered to Aria’s
apartment. Once everything was prepared, I took the elevator down to the underground garage, slid into the SUV already
equipped with the child seat, and drove toward Aria’s place.
As I pulled up to Aria’s apartment building, I frowned at her empty parking spot. Now that the adrenaline was wearing
off, questions flooded my mind. What happened to her car? And why call Leo instead of me?
I stood at her door, juggling grocery bags and medicine, suddenly unsure of myself. I’d been so focused on getting here
to help Lucas that I hadn’t considered whether Aria would want to see me. It had been days since that disaster at my
family home, and she’d ignored every text and call I’d sent. Every night when I closed my eyes, all I could see was her face
in that taxi – hurt, disappointed, pulling away from me. Maybe I should just leave everything at the door and go. I’d have
done my duty without forcing her to deal with me.
A loud crash from inside the apartment shattered my thoughts. I knocked hard, my heart suddenly racing. The apartment went dead silent. I counted each second, holding my breath, waiting for footsteps that didn’t come. When I reached
seventy-five, I knocked again, louder this time.
“Aria, it’s me, Ethan. Please open the door?”
At the sound of my voice, the door cracked open, the security chain limiting how wide it could swing. Half of Lucas’s little
face appeared in the narrow gap, his green eyes wide with fear and relief.
“Uncle Ethan!” his small voice cracked with emotion.
I crouched down to his eye level, smiling reassuringly. “Hey, little man! Where’s your mom?”
At the mention of his mother, Lucas’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “Mommy’s sick. She won’t get up from the bed. I
tried to make her soup, but I spilled it all over the floor.”
“That’s okay, buddy. Can you go get your mom to undo the chain lock?” I encouraged, trying to keep my voice light
despite the fear tightening my throat.
Lucas shook his head, his lower lip trembling. “Mommy won’t wake up. I tried lots of times. One, two, three, four, five
times.”
He held up five small fingers through the crack in the door to emphasize his point. The look of fear on his face broke my
heart. I didn’t want to frighten him further by asking if she was still breathing or if she felt cold. My heart was hammering
so hard I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. No, I couldn’t think like that. I took a deep breath and forced a
reassuring smile.
“Hey, I’m here now, and everything’s going to be okay. But I need to get inside, so I want you to go to the kitchen and sit
on the floor in front of the refrigerator, okay?”
“Okay.” Lucas’s face disappeared from view. I set down the shopping bags and hooked my fingers around the door chain.
Making sure it was taut, I called on my wolf nature, extending my claws. The metal groaned under my strength, and the wood of the doorframe splintered. When the chain refused to give, I channeled the frustration of the past few weeks to
stimulate a rush of adrenaline, adding power to my muscles. A few seconds later, the chain tore completely from the
doorframe, and the door swung open. After regaining my balance, I saw Lucas sitting exactly where I’d instructed.
“Stay right there, Lucas,” I pointed at him firmly. “I’m going to check on your mom.”
Within a few strides, I was in Aria’s bedroom, my hand immediately going to her chest to check for breathing. When her
lungs rose and fell for the fourth time, I allowed myself a moment of relief before examining her pale, clammy face. I
gently pressed the back of my hand to her forehead, checking for fever. Indeed, Aria was burning up, yet she showed no
reaction to my touch. I carefully brushed the hair away from her face.
“Aria?” I whispered, my voice breaking slightly. “Can you hear me?”
Her eyelids fluttered open for a moment, but her gaze was distant, unfocused—she was looking through me, not at me. I
brushed my thumb gently across her burning cheek, then hurried to get the supplies I’d left at the door. After closing it
quietly behind me, I soaked a cloth in cool water and returned to her side. When I laid the compress on her forehead, she
sighed softly, her eyes clearing just a little.
“Hey there,” I murmured, my fingers tracing the delicate line of her jaw. I tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear,
letting my touch linger. “I need you to take some medicine, okay?”
I slipped my arm behind her shoulders, cradling her against my chest as I held out the fever reducers. Her skin felt like
fire against mine. When she parted her lips, I carefully placed the pills in her mouth, then brought the water glass to her
lips, supporting the back of her head with my other hand. She drank in small, fragile sips, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Ethan?” Her voice was barely more than a breath, rough from fever and dehydration, but hearing my name from her lips
sent warmth through my chest.
“I’m right here,” I promised, my thumb gently stroking the pulse point at her wrist. I searched her face, noting the
unhealthy flush of her cheeks, the glassy look in her usually sharp eyes.
“So tired,” she mumbled, her eyes drifting closed as she leaned into my touch. “Lucas… baby needs… rest…”
I pressed my lips to her temple, breathing in the scent of her, before carefully lowering her back onto the pillow. I watched the uneven rise and fall of her chest for several long moments, making sure her breathing steadied before
reluctantly leaving her side to check on Lucas.
He was sitting perfectly still, but fat tears were rolling down his cheeks, and his nose was running unchecked. I sat down
beside him, leaning against the cabinet near the refrigerator and wrapped my arm around his small shoulders. When my
skin made contact with his, I could feel that he too was clammy and hot.
“Your mom is going to be okay. She’s just sick. But I’m going to take care of both of you.”
“I don’t feel good,” Lucas whispered, leaning into my embrace. I had barely settled him onto my lap when he started dry
heaving.
I sprang to my feet, carrying Lucas to the kitchen sink just in time for him to bring up what looked like chicken noodle
soup. Between bouts of vomiting and sobbing, Lucas kept apologizing. I murmured soothing words, supporting him as
he emptied his little stomach. When he was finally done, I set him on the counter.
“No more sorries, little man. You’re sick, and that’s absolutely not your fault.”
“Uncle Leo was mad. I threw up in his car. Mommy said Uncle Leo is an asshole,” Lucas rubbed his eyes, clearly exhausted
from the effort of throwing up so much. I checked his pajamas and hair for any vomit, and finding none, I lifted him into my arms.
“Let’s brush your teeth, and then you need to get back to bed.”
Lucas remained quiet during the short journey to the bathroom, studying me carefully as I slowly helped him brush his
teeth. When I picked him up again, his arms and legs wound tightly around my neck and body. I rubbed gentle circles on
his back until he whispered, “I missed you, Uncle Ethan.