Endure

The next thing I know, I'm outside on the porch, the cool night air brushing against my fevered skin. The moon hangs high above, shining peacefully and bright, almost mocking me with its calmness. I feel faint, the pain gnawing at my sanity, driving me closer to the edge. I try to focus on the world around me, but it all blurs into a haze of agony.

Through the fog of pain, I catch sight of Noelle. He's a flurry of motion, rushing to his garden, dropping to his knees as he digs into the earth. My vision swims, but I can see him pulling something up—an odd-looking root, purple with streaks of blue. He's quick, efficient, and before I can fully process what he's doing, he's rushing past me, back into the house.

In the midst of this torment, a small spark of warmth flickers in my chest. After so many years of being alone, of bearing everything on my own, having someone who worries about me, who cares for me so fiercely, feels...amazing. It's a strange comfort, even as the pain threatens to consume me.

"Bite on this! Eat it now!" Noelle's voice cuts through the haze, urgent and commanding, as he shoves the root into my mouth. The root is wet—he must've rinsed the sand off in his haste. I do as he says, biting down hard. A bitter, sour liquid floods my mouth, the taste overwhelming, but I force myself to swallow. Anything to make this pain stop.

Even through the bitterness, I can't help but feel a deep gratitude. Noelle's frantic care is the only anchor I have in this sea of agony, and though the pain is unbearable, I find a strange solace in knowing that he's here.

"Don't remove it!" Noelle's voice cuts through the haze of pain, urgent and unyielding, as he dashes back into the house. I'm left on the porch, my leg throbbing with a pain that's almost unbearable, the root in my mouth offering little relief. Moments later, Noelle reappears, carrying a lamp in one hand and a glowing red knife in the other. The sight of it sends a cold dread through me, but I'm too drained to react.

"I'm so sorry," Noelle says, his voice filled with regret. Sorry? What for? I barely have time to form the thought before he kneels beside me and rolls up my left pant leg. What I see makes my blood run cold—my leg is a mass of writhing black veins, twisting and pulsing beneath my skin like something alive. The sight is terrifying, but I can't dwell on it for long.

Before I can process what's happening, Noelle drives the red-hot knife into my leg. The pain is indescribable, a searing agony that tears through me with such intensity that I nearly black out. I bite down hard on the bitter root in my mouth, its acrid juices flooding my throat, but even that is a distant sensation compared to the white-hot pain radiating from my leg.

"Thorne, listen to me." Noelle's voice anchors me, dragging me back from the brink of unconsciousness. I force my eyes open, meeting his panicked green gaze. "You need to stay awake, Thorne. You need to fight this. Please, fight."

His words are desperate, pleading, but they pierce through the fog of pain. I try to focus on his face, on the concern etched into every line, but it's hard to think past the agony. "I didn't know," he continues, his voice trembling. "But you have a large amount of poison in your body. I gave you Veryn Root leaves earlier today—it's a potent herb with high nutritional value and anti-poisonous effects. That must have triggered the poison in your system."

Poison. The word echoes in my mind, but it feels distant, almost irrelevant compared to the pain coursing through me. Somehow, I'm not surprised. 

"This is the Veryn Root," Noelle says, holding the purplish-blue root up to my face, his voice a lifeline in the storm of pain. "It's going to help expel the poison from your body, but it will be immensely painful, Thorne. I need you to pull through this. Please."

I want to reassure him, to tell him that I'll be fine, but all I can manage is a weak nod. The idea of more pain is almost unbearable, but I promised. Noelle looks at me, searching my eyes for something—maybe strength, maybe determination. Whatever it is, he must find it because he nods, a look of grim resolve settling on his face.

"I'm going to pull out the knife," he warns, his voice steady despite the fear I can see in his eyes. "Whatever you do, stay awake. Please, Thorne."

I nod again, bracing myself. Noelle grips the handle of the knife, and with a swift motion, he pulls it out. The pain that follows is beyond anything I've ever experienced, a blinding, searing torment that engulfs my entire being. I bite down on the root, its bitter juices burning as they slide down my throat, but it's nothing compared to the fire consuming me.

My vision blurs, the all-too-familiar darkness creeps in on me, but I refuse to succumb. I stay awake. For months, I've lived in pain and loneliness, begging the darkness to take me into its cold embrace. But now, as it looms closer, I fight it with every ounce of strength I have. 

For the first time in forever, I have a will to live. The burning sensation rages through my body, searing my flesh from the inside out, but I'm still here. I'm still fighting. If I die here, this little omega might end up with some other Alpha, and that thought alone infuriates me. The world has never been kind to me; it's been nothing but cruel and unforgiving. The only ray of light I've ever received in my life is Noelle, and I'll be damned if I let go of that now.

With renewed resolve, I endure the burning agony coursing through my veins. The darkness is relentless, but so am I. I won't let it win. I won't let go of the only thing that's ever made life worth living. Not now, not ever.