AUTHOR'S POV
"Lycan King!", Ofir said, pulling Scott back to reality. Scott woke like a man dragged from deep water. His body curled on the floor, every muscle locked tight from the pain that no longer existed, yet somehow still lingered in his skin. He lifted his eyes. His home smelled real, and every piece felt normal. This time, finally real. A small hand grabbed his arm before he could roll his eyes on the back of his head again. "You're welcome", Ofir stood beside him breathing unevenly, hair damped against its forehead. He appeared to have been walked to hell and back.
Scott blinked his eyes hard. Black blood slipped from the lythari elf's nose in thin streams. Darker ink beneath his eyes crawled down his pale skin. It was a magic backlash as he use too much of it from ripping through the Nagual's dream realm. The lythari elf wiped the blood away carelessly with the back of his burned hand. Despite his body reacted from his excessive use, he showed no flaw in his character. "Don't believe everything shown in there", the lythari elf said quietly.
Scott stared at him for a moment. Breathing the truth and the lies one breath at a time. Then he smiled faintly. Small and exhausted. "Thanks", the word sounded heavier than usual. In fact, Ofir didn't expected to be thanked at all.
Ofir waited for a proper reply anyway. He followed Scott to the couch, leaning slowly. But still after a few moments of silence, none came. Only his deep sighs and blank stares answered him back.
Scott took his shirt off and closed his eyes briefly. He still remembered Diana's face during the chase, especially when she stood on that cliff. It marked his head, haunting him even after waking up from the nightmare created by the Nagual. He clearly remembered the fear. Only fear. Tamara may be full of lies and deceit, but not at that. He knew that with him turning to a lycan chasing his Luna, Diana would be as terrified as she were in that dream.
And now, Scott understood why she ran without a trace. How she looked at him tenderly hiding the fear in the corners of her eyes, defining love and dread in equal measure. He swallowed hard. He loved Diana enough to know love alone could not make someone safe. And sometimes, love is a lit match dropped beside gunpowder. Such realization hollowed him quietly.
Ofir sat across him, watching carefully. Human emotions, and wolf instincts are hard for him to fathom. "What are you thinking?", he finally asked.
Scott didn't want to talk about it. But, he owe the lythari elf. Looking at the small creature's burned hand, black blood drying on his skin, and the loyalty he serves him and Diana, he decided to opted to answer. "Diana", he said. "She deserves to live long enough to love somebody without fearing they'll kill her". Ofir's expression darkened slightly at Scott who sounded as if he's giving up the Luna. Scott laughed once under his breath. Broken, welling up with tears. "If I have to cut the imprint for that to happen...", he paused. "Then maybe I should".
Time passed in a blink.
Daylight came and went behind the penthouse windows unnoticed. Phones vibrated themselves into silence. Missed calls on Scott's screen piled endlessly until the phone died. Hours turned to days. Scott turned to a man even he couldn't recognize. Lucas tried to reach him. Cory and the others almost broke the elevators. Even Damon. Messages stacked worriedly for the Alpha who closed his doors to everyone.
Scott ignored all of them. No exceptions. Beer bottles gathered first. Then the brandy and whiskey that he's been keeping. Liquors and sleepless nights returned his home dim and stale. Music played at some point, as he watch the city lights glitter outside the glass walls. He looked at the moon turning full in a few days, and it made him sick, angry, and worried.
Ofir stayed.
He never left, but have kept his distance from Scott. He listened to Scott's drunken madness. He patted the Lycan king's head when he screams from his nightmares, and moves back each time Scott wakes up jerking. He cleaned up after every vomit, every spills, dirty linens and even clothes. Looking after the lycan king discretely, he places either apples or bananas beside wherever Scott shuts off from drinking.
Scott hissed at the last bottle of brandy in his keeper. He grabbed two glasses on his way out, walked around barefoot in his grey sweatpants. Looking around, he couldn't see his tiny companion who have worked his ass off keeping things tight around his home. He closed his eyes, and not too long, his feet moved.
Scott found Ofir in his indoor garden surrounded with glass enclosure, staring at the fishes swimming in the small pond. He was humming a tune, crouching. "Do lythari elves drink?", Scott approached.
"We do not".
"Tonight you do".
Scott placed the glass on a slated rock near the pond. Poured it half full with golden brown cognac, and sat beside Ofir. For a while, neither of them spoke. The sound of the water flowing filled the enclosure, grounding them both. Scott held his glass, swirling the liquor gently. Somehow, the gentle rhythm of the waters and the the way it ripples at the movement of the fishes reminded him of his old self who finds comfort in nature.
"I had 6 wives".
Scott glanced sideways.
"And one hundred forty four children"
Scott nearly choked on his drink. "You're joking."
"I do not joke about death", his words settled heavily. Ofir dipped his hand in the water, as the red and white fishes swim towards his fingers. "I could not stay with them often. Lythari elves are wandering guardians by nature. We leave for years sometimes. But when I return, I make sure I get to kiss their blue cheeks. Hold their tiny hands. Watch them sleep", he moved his fingers at the fishes nibbling them. "Our greed buried our bloodline. If we didn't meddle with your Luna, we wouldn't lose the ones we cherish the most".
Scott swallowed a mouthful of brandy before standing. "It's too late to blame your sorry ass", Scott muttered with a dry scoff, turning away to leave.
Ofir spoke again. Quietly without looking back at Scott. "She's still alive, Lycan King".
Scott stopped walking, clenching on the the glass. "You can't just give up so easily. If it were me", Ofir's eyes fixed on the fishes swimming away the moment he lifted his hand from the water. "I would not make another mistake that could lose her".
Scott's jaw tightened. Lose her. As if he had the right to call Diana his. He stared at the doorway, not thinking about anything but only how he no longer deserves his Luna. "She already decided", those words came out flat. Ofir looked up at Scott, who turned his head looking at him at the same time. Scott laughed once without any humor in it. "She left without saying good bye", that hurt him more than the claws ever did.
Their fight for love was done. No more promises to keep. And no wait for me. She was just gone. Scott looked at his hand with the empty glass. "I think", he admitted quietly. "She finally realized loving me is the same as waiting to die".
The elf watched him carefully. Then said the cruelest thing. "And yet, you are still drinking".
Scott sighed, shaking his head. For a creature who could only sense emotions and not fully understand them, Ofir got through him. "Do you have a suit?", he looked at the confused lythari elf standing by the pond.