The lost mate
Chapter 75: Bad news

Chapter 75: Bad news

Hes sheepishly emerged from behind a tree. His tall frame looked almost comically out of place, trying—and failing—to blend into the scenery. He scratched the back of his head, giving her an awkward grin.

"Uh... hey, Emily," he said, his tone sounding far too casual for someone who had clearly been caught sneaking around.

Emily folded her arms, raising an eyebrow at him. "Were you... following me?"

Chris shrugged, still grinning like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Following is such a strong word. I was keeping an eye on you. You know, just in case."

"In case of what?" she shot back, her lips twitching as she fought to keep a straight face.

"Hey, those fruit sellers can be tricky," Chris replied with a mock-serious tone. "I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get swindled out of your hard-earned cash."

Emily rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. "I think I can handle myself, Chris."

He stepped closer.

"I know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re new here, and this place can be a little overwhelming."

Emily’s heart gave a tiny flutter at the concern in his voice. How could someone so big and intimidating be so sweet?

"Well, I appreciate the... covert surveillance," she teased, "but I’m fine. Just exploring a bit."

Chris nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Good. Just remember, I’m always around if you need someone to walk you home."

Emily rolled her eyes again, but this time there was no hiding the smile on her face.

"Don’t you have pack duties to take care of?" Emily asked, glancing up at him. "You’re always hanging around."

Chris smiled at her question, a half-smirk playing on his lips. "You’re getting tired of me already, huh?" he teased.

Emily flushed, shaking her head quickly. "No, it’s just... don’t you have a job or something? You know, Beta business?"

He chuckled softly and looked ahead. "I do. But I’m also making sure you and Heather are safe. It’s my job to look out for the people who are important to the pack. And you two... well, let’s just say you’ve become part of that circle."

Emily’s heart skipped a beat. It was sweet in a way she hadn’t expected.

"Speaking of the pack," she started, trying to change the subject before her cheeks could betray her again. "How’s Anne doing? She’s adjusting, okay?"

Chris nodded, his expression softening as he thought about Damien and Anne. "Yeah, she’s doing fine. Better than expected, actually. I think she’ll become a good Luna, even if she doesn’t realise it yet."

Emily smiled, feeling a sense of relief. Anne had always been strong, but the new life she was building seemed like a lot to handle. It was nice to know she was finding her way.

They continued walking until they reached the house. Emily pushed open the door, her mood light and playful after their conversation, but as soon as she stepped inside, the atmosphere changed.

"Mum?" Emily called out, her voice uncertain.

When she entered the bedroom, her heart sank. Heather lay on the bed, looking paler than Emily had ever seen her. Her usually bright and fierce eyes were dull, and her skin an unnatural shade of white. She looked frail, like a shadow of the woman she once was.

"Oh my god," Emily whispered, rushing to her side. "Mum, what’s wrong? You look terrible."

Heather waved her hand weakly, dismissing Emily’s concern. "I’m fine, sweetie. Just a little tired, that’s all."

Emily wasn’t convinced. "No, you’re not fine. I’m calling the doctor—"

"No!" Heather’s voice came out stronger than expected, but it was followed by a cough that seemed to rattle her whole body. She winced in pain, and Emily’s worry only grew.

Chris, who had been standing silently by the door, moved closer, his expression darkening as he caught the scent of something in the air. His sharp wolf senses picked up on something Emily couldn’t. The room was filled with a scent he knew all too well—one that chilled him to the bone.

It was the scent of death.

Chris’s eyes narrowed as he focused on Heather, the concern in his gaze turning into something far more serious. He didn’t say anything right away, but the look on his face spoke volumes. He could smell it—the disease clinging to her, subtle but undeniable.

Heather wasn’t just sick. She was dying.

"Emily..." Chris started, his voice low and cautious, "I think we need to talk."

Emily looked up at him, her face etched with worry. "What is it?"

He took her aside.

Chris met her gaze, his jaw tight. "Heather’s condition... it’s not something the rest will fix. We need to do something, and fast."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked, her voice shaking slightly. "What are you saying, Chris?"

Chris took a deep breath, his usually playful demeanour now solemn. "Wolves can scent diseases, especially when they’re... advanced. It’s one of our instincts. And I can smell something on Heather, something that tells me her illness is more serious than she’s letting on."

Emily’s stomach twisted. She glanced back at her mother, still lying pale and weak on the bed.

"Mum?" Emily’s voice was soft, filled with a mixture of fear and anger. "Are you hiding something from me?"

Heather hesitated, her hand trembling slightly as she rested it on her lap. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. The silence in the room was suffocating, and Emily felt a cold wave of dread wash over her. Finally, Heather sighed, her eyes shifting towards the drawer next to the bed.

"In the drawer, Emily," she said quietly, her voice almost too weak to hear. "There’s a report."

Emily’s heart sank as she moved to the small wooden drawer, her fingers fumbling as she pulled it open. Inside, beneath some old letters and papers, was a neatly folded document. Her hands trembled as she unfolded it, revealing the medical report within.

Her eyes skimmed the words, but her mind barely registered them at first—until they landed on the diagnosis.

Her face paled. The breath caught in her throat. Cancer.

Stage three.