36. Howls of Grief

Delilah knelt beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Jayden… It’s not your fault,” she said softly, her tone filled with maternal warmth. But Jayden shook his head violently, shrugging off her hand. “Don’t you see? It *is* my fault!” he shouted, his voice cracking with rage and despair. He pushed himself out of bed and bolted toward the door, his movements jerky and restless. “Jayden…” Delilah called after him, her voice laced with worry. He spun around, and she gasped. His eyes, glowing faintly with a wild light, locked onto hers. His fangs had grown fully now, expanding dangerously as he growled, “What?” The sound sent a chill down her spine, and she instinctively gripped the bed sheet, her knuckles turning white. Jayden’s head hung when he saw her fear. The anger drained from him, replaced by guilt that weighed even heavier than before. He lowered his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone raw and broken. Delilah wanted to