Chapter 243: Brynhild’s Death?

The rain increased, falling more heavily and louder. Each thunderclap coincided with a contraction, each flash of lightning illuminating the desperation etched into their faces. Brynhild’s sweat-slicked hair clung to her temples, her breathing ragged and erratic.

Lysander’s hands moved with trembling precision, guided by his instincts. Sophia could feel every twitch of his fingers, every tremor, every bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. Brynhild cried out again, her voice broken.

"Please...please! It’s too much! Take it out! I can’t...!"

His hands shook violently, hovering as if afraid to touch, yet she could feel the determination, the love, the terror coursing through him. "I’ve got you," he whispered. "It’s going to be okay. I promise. Trust me."

"It hurts!" Brynhild cried loudly. "Lysander, it hurts too much. I don’t want it to hurt anymore. Please...I don’t want it to hurt anymore."

"It’s going to hurt less," Lysander told her.

Sophia watched, her heart in her throat, because there was nothing she could do except watch.

Time passed quickly as the tension increased. Lysander’s hands trembled as he continued. Sophia didn’t know how much time had passed, only that it was hours and the storm outside was unrelenting.

Sophia had a fist in her mouth as she watched anxiously, and finally, finally the wait was over.

Sophia’s breath caught. Lysander held the tiny figure in his hands, his face breaking into a wide smile.

"You did it," Lysander told Brynhild as the baby’s cries filled the room.

Marta released a joyful sound. "You did it," she told Brynhild.

Brynhild’s lips curved into a faint smile, her exhausted hands reaching instinctively toward the child. She touched the small, squirming form, her hands moving with careful reverence despite her own exhaustion.

"You look so pretty. I can’t see you, but I know you’re pretty. You’ll turn heads and break hearts, and you’ll be the strongest girl to ever grace the Nightshade pack. Even stronger than me," Brynhild told her daughter.

Marta laughed just as a healer spoke up. "If your daughter becomes stronger than you, then she may as well become a goddess."

The room exploded in chuckles.

Brynhild traced her hands over her daughter’s face, and the girl’s cries reduced to hiccups.

Then she turned in the vague direction of Lysander, and Sophia knew at that point that this wasn’t going to go as she hoped. She thought it would be different from what she had experienced with Zena, but it was having the same rhythm after all.

"Take care of her," Brynhild told him.

Lysander blinked, confusion etching his features. "What...what do you mean?"

Marta’s voice cut through sharply, urgent. "She’s going, Lysander. We have to get to work, now!"

Marta took the baby and placed her in Lysander’s arms as they began moving. Meanwhile, Lysander froze, staring with wide eyes.

Sophia’s tears ran freely, spilling down her cheeks as she watched helplessly. Lysander looked like a man who had already lost years of his life, just staring helplessly.

Sophia shook her head. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t happen. Brynhild isn’t dying.

"Brynhild!" she screamed, even if the woman couldn’t hear her.

Marta and the other healers ran about trying to resuscitate her, but there was nothing they could do. She was gone. Brynhild wasn’t coming back. She was dead.

Marta turned to Lysander, tears in her eyes too. "She’s gone."

"No, no, no," Lysander muttered to himself. "There’s no way that’s true. She can’t..."

But even as he said the words, he knew it was true. He knew that she was gone.

Someone took the baby from Lysander’s hands as he stared at it, scrubbing frantically.

Sophia watched him through a tear-clouded haze as he scrubbed his hands red.

"I shouldn’t have done that... should have let Marta handle it... maybe she’d still be alive... I killed her... I fucking killed her. I’m the best, but I couldn’t save my wife," he cried.

The sob that poured out of him was raw and heart-wrenching; it showed exactly how Sophia felt as she watched helplessly.

The storm outside continued, thunder echoing loudly in the distance.

Lysander fell to his knees and placed a hand over his head. The other healers tried to move Brynhild’s body; they moved to cover her face, but Lysander stopped them with wide eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked them.

"She’s gone..."

"No, she isn’t. I can do something. I’ll...I’ll do some research. There must be something I can do to get her back. Yes...I’ll do an experiment...maybe something to bring her back... I..."

"Lysander!" Marta called out harshly. "She’s gone."

Lysander shook his head. "But she can’t be gone. We planned to stay together. We planned to raise our child together. Brynhild came up with her name too... she can’t be gone. What am...what am I going to do without her? How..."

Marta tried to console him, but he folded in on himself, hitting his head. "I should have let someone else do the surgery." He hit himself hard. "I was so fucking stupid." He hit again. "Should have let Marta do it. I froze. I shouldn’t have. I’m a healer, and I screwed up. I shouldn’t have..."

He hit himself continuously as Marta and the other healers rushed to stop him from hurting himself.

The baby cried, oblivious to the devastation around her, and Lysander could not bring himself to meet her gaze. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Sophia’s chest ached with every sound—the storm outside, the cries of the child, the sobs of grief echoing through the room. Her body shook uncontrollably, her heart breaking in real time as she witnessed the aftermath of love, life, and loss intertwining in impossible ways.

"Get me out!" she screamed. "There may still be time, let me out! Let me out! Please. Whatever is happening here... just... Brynhild can’t die... please, please she can’t die. She..." She folded herself just like Lysander did before. "She’s my friend. She’s the first friend I made in the pack. Don’t let her die... please don’t let her die."

Sophia had no idea who she was speaking to or if anyone would even listen to her. She prayed to the Moon Goddess, praying to her to let her wake from the nightmare, to save her friend. Brynhild was the first person to accept her.

Brynhild treated Sophia like a sister. She was someone Sophia looked up to too. She couldn’t die. She...

Sophia’s thoughts stopped just as she opened her eyes. She was back in Orion’s home and on his bed.

The storm raged outside, and without a second thought, she dashed out of the bed, not minding that she was only wearing a tunic, she dashed into the cold rain.