Chapter 119: Healing the Soul 

Killian’s POV 

This is the session I have loathed all my life. 

The therapy room was silent, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock. I sat in a high–backed chair across from the mind healer, Dr. Estelle Morrigan, an old wolf with wise eyes and a warmth that could soften even the most guarded conversationalists. She observed me carefully, her pen tapping lightly against her notebook before she finally spoke. “Your Majesty, tell me how you’ve been feeling since our last session.” 

I let out a lazy sigh. “Same, nothing special.” 

“Hm, according to your Beta’s report, you’ve been experiencing severe hallucinations to the point where it’s difficult to distinguish reality from illusion. Am I correct?” 

“Yes. I’m not proud to admit it.” 

Estelle offered a gentle smile. “Everyone feels the same way, Your Majesty. The fact that you’ve taken the step to acknowledge it is already a good start. So, is there anything else you can tell me?” 

I rubbed my temples. “I can barely sleep. And when I do, the nightmares never stop. Music helps, but Leonidas forbade me from playing after what happened last time.” 

She jotted something down. “Noted. Because you played for ten hours straight and ruined your hands in the process?” 

I didn’t answer. It was both a moment of spectaculer and sorrow. No sane person would play an instrument for that long. If that Beta hadn’t come to find me, I might have kept going far beyond what my fingers could count. 

She sighed, adjusting her posture. “Do you have troubling thoughts, Your Majesty?” 

“Every day.” 

There was no surprise in her expression, as if she had already anticipated my answer before I even spoke. She asked another clinical question. “Have you done anything about it?” 

I shook my head. “I’ve only relied on your help. Nothing more.” 

“I can see that,” she said, making another note. “From my perspective, you’re punishing yourself, Killian. Drowning in guilt. You cannot bring back the dead, no matter how much you suffer for them.” 

I averted my gaze, staring at the snow–laced window. “I’m not a toddler who doesn’t understand that, miss.” 

“If that’s the case.” She tilted her head, resting both hands on her lap. “Then all I see is a king who refuses to heal.” 

“That’s not entirely true. Who in their right mind would want to be unwell?” I asked accusingly. 

“I’m sure no one does. But some choose to be just to survive.” 

Her answer silenced me instantly. It was an undeniable truth; one I couldn’t refute because I was part of the group she had just described. If I weren’t, I would have lost his shadow in my mind, and that would mean losing him forever. 

Silence stretched between us as she noted our next appointment. Then, she placed a small bottle on the table between us. “Your prescription. I’ve increased the dosage. You need stronger intervention.” 

I picked up the bottle, turning it between my fingers. An increased dosage meant I was getting worse. 

“I hope you take it, Your Majesty,” she said firmly. “You may be strong, but even a Lycan has limits.” 

The session ended with a respectful bow from her. Even after she left, my eyes remained fixed on the bottle. I hated taking medicine. Let alone having to take additional vitamins. 

A knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts. 

“My King? May I come in?” 

I exhaled, recognizing the voice instantly. It seemed the butler was even more talkative than Beatrice. Sometimes, I could hardly tolerate his constant nagging, even if his intentions were good. I was wondering if they were related. 

“Come in.” 

Sean stepped inside, his hands neatly folded behind his back. “You have skipped two meals, Your Majesty. I’m afraid this will take a toll on your health.” 

“Not hungry, Sean.” 

Successfully unlocked! 

“Your Majesty, this is a bad habit,” he declared, firmer this time. “At the very least, allow me to bring you something light.” 

I ran a hand through my hair. The man wouldn’t back down, so I sighed. 

“Fine.” 

Chapter 119 Healing the Soul 

Sean nodded, swiftly leaving and returning moments later with a silver tray. Steak, baked potatoes, and warm rolls. My stomach twisted at the sight. The first bite tasted ordinary just the familiar comfort of homemade food. The second felt like lead. I forced myself to chew, swallow, repeat. Each bite was a battle on a war–torn field. 

Sean didn’t leave, waiting patiently for me to eat, knowing full well that I had tricks to make food disappear 

“I don’t think I can finish it.” 

Sean remained firm. “There’s only a little left, Your Majesty. You can do it.” 

in an instant. 

At last, I forced the final bite into my mouth, praying I wouldn’t throw up immediately. Then, the door slammed open blinked blankly as Leonidas strode in, grinning. 

“Look who’s still alive. Barely.” 

I raised an eyebrow, questioning his statement. “Charming. What do you want?” 

“Status report. Starting with the barracks stable condition, no threats. But the real highlight?” He grinned, setting his work documents on the table. “Some juicy gossip from the Bloodmoon Pack.” 

I snarled, “Why do you care about another pack’s drama?” 

“Because I have social skills.” 

I exhaled, rubbing my already throbbing temples. I had no desire to continue this pointless conversation. Yet, he leaned against the wall, standing his ground completely. 

“Alright, I’ll get straight to the point. Beta Mikael’s wife is pregnant.” 

“Yes, and?” 

“That’s it?!” 

I ran a hand over my face, failing to understand Leonidas‘ reaction. Still, I couldn’t shake the image of a harmonious family welcoming a new member. Something I would never have. I rested my hand against my jaw. It pulsed as always. The only difference was that this time, it felt like a severed longing, leaving behind nothing but empty numbness. It shouldn’t be like 

this. 

Leonidas studied me. “Your Majesty, are you alright?” 

“I am. Please, buy a gift and have it sent to their pack as a token from our kingdom.” 

He tilted his head, surprised by my response. “You’re serious?” 

“Yes, Leonidas. Just do it.” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

After he left, Sean quickly cleared away the remnants of my meal before shutting the grand doors. Rosalyn was pregnant. Just like Elysian. I felt torn between discomfort and gratitude, knowing that it meant Scotland’s wolf population would grow. I swept my hair back. 

“What the hell is wrong with my head?” 

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