Chapter 256: When Memory Bleeds Through

Lysander stood beside Sophia’s bedside, watching the silent tears sliding down her flushed cheeks. The firelight flickered against the sheen of sweat on her skin, illuminating the tremors that rippled across her body. Her fingers twitched weakly, as though grasping something in a place far removed from this room.

Then she murmured again — another apology, softer but soaked with something raw. Something that scraped against Orion’s chest like a blade drawn slowly across bone.

Lysander exhaled through his nose. "This... this is a high fever hallucination."

His voice was calm, steady, but there was a weight there too. The kind of weight that comes from knowing exactly what he was seeing — and knowing Orion was about to hate every word.

Orion swallowed, his brows furrowing deeply. "Explain."

Lysander nodded. He rested two fingers against Sophia’s wrist, checking her pulse, then drew his hand back.

"When a fever gets high enough," he began, "the body struggles to regulate more than just heat. The brain starts misfiring. Signals get jumbled. Basic perception becomes distorted. And because the brain is weakening, it can create images or sensations that aren’t really present."

Orion listened without blinking.

Lysander continued, speaking slowly and carefully.

"When someone has a high fever, especially one rising fast like this, hallucinations are common. The person may see people who aren’t there. They may hear voices, relive events, or mistake current surroundings for something else entirely."

Sophia shivered again, her breath hitching sharply in her throat. Another tear slid down her cheek, and her lips formed silent words before she whispered out...

"I didn’t... mean to... I’m sorry..."

Orion’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

Lysander’s eyes softened, but he continued.

"And hallucinations tied to fever aren’t random. The mind pulls from memories, from fears, from anything emotionally loaded. The brain tries to make sense of what’s happening, but it can’t... so it fills the silence with memories — some real, some not."

Orion inhaled, slow and controlled, grounding himself with sheer force of will.

"So this... is her mind misfiring?"

"It’s her mind struggling," Lysander corrected gently. "Burning up, exhausted, confused."

Sophia whimpered, her fingers clutching at the blanket. Orion had to force himself not to reach for her. He wanted to... gods, he wanted to, but he needed to hear the rest first.

Lysander looked toward him, expression shifting slightly.

"But I don’t think this is just a fever anymore."

Orion’s head jerked toward him. "Of course it isn’t. You just said it’s a high fever."

Lysander rolled his eyes. "That’s not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?"

"You said Marta said the fever was normal earlier. Nothing concerning except for the exhaustion." Lysander sighed. "But then there was a sudden spike, right? And also the hallucinations this early... it doesn’t fit the usual pattern."

"What does it fit then?" Orion demanded quietly.

There was a long silence.

"You know, she came to see me some days ago. She wanted to know how to recover her memories," Lysander told Orion.

Orion nodded. He knew this was because of the deal he made with her. He knew she had gone to see Lysander.

"I told her everything that I could about her condition, and what I got from the book Tobias brought me," Lysander answered truthfully. "That her memory loss came from both physical and psychological trauma. That her mind was protecting her. And that memories sometimes return when something familiar or emotionally powerful triggers them."

Orion’s chest tightened.

"And you think..." he started slowly, "...what she’s seeing now... what she’s apologizing for... is part of those memories? It’s something she has experienced before?"

Lysander drew in a slow breath, choosing his next words with care.

"Yes. I think the fever weakened the walls her mind has kept up. And whatever memories she’s been suppressing... whatever her brain has protected her from until now... they’re trying to resurface."

Orion stiffened. "But why does it look like she’s in pain?"

"Because some memories hurt more than the injuries that caused them," Lysander said. "And the ones we bury deepest... those are the ones that cut the sharpest when they come back."

"Lysander..." His voice was low, thick with worry. "How do I stop it? How do I make it stop hurting her?"

Lysander met his gaze — and there was no sugarcoating there, no softening.

"You can’t."

Orion’s jaw clenched. "What do you mean I can’t? Surely there must be something I can do, right? I’m her mate. I can—"

Lysander stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"This is her body reacting, brother," he said gently. "Her mind can’t keep protecting her anymore. Not from this. Not from whatever memory wants to come back. We can try to manage the fever, keep her stable — but the memory itself? The hallucinations? We can’t stop those. You can’t help her when it comes to that."

Sophia turned her head slightly, whispering something too soft to make out. Tears soaked the pillow beneath her.

Orion closed his eyes briefly, swallowing a surge of emotion so strong it nearly choked him.

"You don’t expect I’ll just do nothing, do you? There must be something I can help her with. I..." Orion shook his head with a sigh.

"Stay," Lysander said. "That’s the best thing you can do right now. Be here. Talk to her. Remind her where she is. Remind her she’s not alone. That whatever she’s seeing — whatever her mind is forcing her to relive — it’s a memory. It’s all in the past and isn’t happening right now."

Sophia whimpered again, curling slightly inward.

Lysander added softly, "Her mind needs an anchor, Orion. So give her one. Your voice. Your presence. Anything that tells her she’s not in that place anymore. You are the one with the strongest connection to her. Remind her where she is."

"Will that work?" Orion asked him.

"I think it will. Use your bond, Orion," Lysander told him.

Orion didn’t hesitate.

He moved to the bedside, pulled the stool closer, and sat. His hand found hers again — and this time, she clutched his fingers as though she’d been drowning without realizing it.

Lysander stepped back, giving him space.

Sophia’s lips trembled. "I’m... sorry..." she whispered again. The words cracked at the end.

Orion brushed her hair from her forehead, gentler this time, careful not to startle her.

Lysander watched the exchange, his expression tightening with something like sympathy — but also resolve.

"I’ll prepare cold compresses and see what I can do to lower the fever," he said quietly. "You stay with her."

Orion nodded without looking away from Sophia.