A Fragile Rebirth

Ronan's POV

I couldn't help but feel the weight of my decision. Bringing Elian back wasn't just a matter of power. He had been a friend, someone who had once saved me when I was close to death. I had been wounded after a skirmish with a rival pack. My body had been broken, and I had been certain it was the end. But Elian—he had been there. A witch with a heart far gentler than most of us, he had healed me, using his magic to mend wounds that would have otherwise killed me. And in doing so, he had stayed by my side, earning my trust in a way no one else ever had.

And somewhere along the way, between the healing and the shared moments of quiet understanding, an attraction had blossomed. It was something unspoken, something tender that I had never let fully take root. I couldn't afford to—leaders didn't form attachments like that. But Elian had never been just anyone. He was gentle, kind, and that had made him different from anyone I had ever known.

The circle around Elian's body pulsed with energy, a rush of power that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My heart raced as I watched, feeling the air grow thick with magic. Morrigan's eyes glowed, and her voice rose higher in the chant, like she was calling to some distant force, pulling Elian back from whatever realm he had slipped into.

Then, there was a sound—a quiet, almost imperceptible groan. It wasn't much, but it was enough. I stepped forward, the air growing heavier with each heartbeat.

"Elian?" My voice trembled, and I hated that it did. I had always been a leader, someone who didn't hesitate, who didn't show weakness. But this—this was different.

A shudder ran through Elian's body, his chest rising slightly as though taking its first tentative breath in days. His fingers twitched, and my breath hitched. Could it be? Was he really coming back?

Morrigan's smile flickered in the dim light, but it was a smile full of mystery, one I didn't trust fully. "He will return. But he is not the same. Be ready for that."

I didn't care. All I cared about was that Elian was alive.

Another shallow breath, and then, Elian's eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, they were unfocused, distant. His pupils were wide, searching the air as if he couldn't make sense of what was happening. But then they landed on me, and I could see it—the faint glimmer of recognition in his gaze. It was there, just barely, but it was there.

"Elian?" I stepped closer, my voice low and gentle, like I was afraid to break whatever fragile thread held him to this world.

His lips parted, and his voice came out soft, hesitant. "Where… where am I?"

A wave of guilt washed over me. This wasn't the Elian I remembered. The Elian I had known had been strong and confident, a man who had stood by my side through everything. This Elian... this one seemed so fragile, as if he had been broken and was struggling to put himself back together.

I had to remind myself—this wasn't Elian as he had been. He had come back different. But he was here. That was all that mattered.

"You're safe," I said, my voice firm despite the uncertainty clawing at me. "This is our territory. We're your pack."

His gaze flickered to the others who stood around us, their faces a mixture of awe and confusion. I could feel the tension building in the air. The pack hadn't forgotten how Elian had once been. They had never trusted him fully—not because of his magic, but because of his gentle nature. The wolves were a hard pack, accustomed to strength and loyalty in a different form. But I wasn't like them. I trusted Elian.

"I don't… remember," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "I… I don't remember anything."

It struck me like a punch to the gut. The gentle witch who had once saved my life, the man who had become more to me than I had ever admitted, was now lost. The memories of his past life, his life with me, were gone, wiped clean.

I reached out instinctively, placing my hand on his shoulder. He flinched, and it stung more than I cared to admit. But I didn't pull away. "You don't need to remember right now. You're safe. We'll help you."

He blinked up at me, confusion and vulnerability in his eyes. "Who… who are you?"

My heart twisted in my chest. "I'm Ronan," I said, my voice steady despite the ache inside me. "We've been through a lot together, Elian. You helped me when I was hurt. You healed me."

His brow furrowed, as if my words were too heavy for him to understand. I could see the effort it took for him to grasp them. Elian was a healer, a witch, but now... he was fragile, like a delicate glass sculpture. His magic, the power that had once radiated from him with quiet confidence, was gone. And with it, the man I had known.

I motioned for my warriors to step forward. "Take him to the infirmary," I ordered. "Give him food and rest. We need him to recover."

As they helped Elian to his feet, I noticed how unsteady he was. He stumbled slightly, and I instinctively moved to catch him, but one of the warriors was faster. Elian's eyes met mine again, but there was no recognition in them now. Only confusion and uncertainty.

But there was something else, something I couldn't ignore—a flicker of something that reminded me of the man he had been. I had to hold onto that, to believe it.

"Ronan," Morrigan's voice broke through my thoughts, soft and knowing. "He is different. Don't expect him to be the Elian you remember."

I didn't look at her. I couldn't. "He's here," I said, my tone final. "And I won't turn my back on him."

As Elian was led away, my pack remained silent, watching me. The uncertainty in their eyes was clear, but I couldn't let them dictate my choices. I had made my decision.

And I would live with it—no matter what.