Roselia's childhood began and ended with Atticus Kerpan. As the first-born daughter in generations within the Fiore household, she was heavily doted upon by her grandparents and father alike.
Roselia's earliest memory dates back to when she was thirteen. The day she gained a "teen" in her age, and thought of herself as a grown-up, but in the eyes of many, was still a child.
Roselia's earliest memory was Atticus Kerpan. It was of the tall, lanky boy that her brother brought home. The first of his friends to visit the pack.
Pack Kerpan was the closest territory to Pack Fiore. They had one of the strongest alliances in the country, for their forests bordered each other. On many occasions, the Alpha-to-be, Ronald would run across the boundary lines to visit Atticus Kerpan.
They have been friends since diapers. Some would even consider them brothers.
"Say hello, Rosie," Ronald introduced, placing a hand upon his shy little sister. She was tiny for her age, from the lack of sun and a wolf. She hid behind her brother, clinging onto him.
"H-hello," Roselia whispered, peeking her head out at Atticus. She had heard rumors about him. The first time she saw him, she forgot to breathe.
Atticus was beautiful. Hair the color of earth, and the warmest hazel eyes like a hot cup of chocolate, Atticus radiated bright as the sun. Roselia's heart skipped a beat. The air left her lungs. She was dizzy just looking at him in all his brilliance.
"Hello, Roselia. It is a pleasure to meet you." Atticus revealed a slow, tender smile as if he had known her all his life. As if he had been preached about Roselia, no thanks to Ronald always bragging about his adorable, little sister.
And unlike all the men introduced to Roselia, Atticus kept his distance. He didn't stretch out a hand for her to shake. He didn't give her a present to bribe her affection.
Atticus was just Atticus. Brilliant and boyish, he was Roselia's first crush.
If Roselia could go back in time, she'd prevent this meeting. A butterfly landed on Roselia's shoulders, jumping off from the soft material and flapping its wings, soaring into the sky.
"Look Ronald!" Roselia gasped, pointing.
"What a pretty butterfly," Atticus commented, smiling.
Roselia giggled, completely oblivious to it all—the start of Roselia Fiore's downfall began with a boy five years older than her.
- - - - -
"Doctor, it's been three days," Noah complained when the doctors rushed in upon him pressing the emergency button. "How come she's still not awake yet?"
Beatrice was out of breath alongside the Head of their Traumatic Unit department. They rushed here the second they saw the code, but were confused about the lack of an emergency.
For the past three days, Roselia remained in the ICU. Her condition didn't improve. Her heart rate was steady, but her oxygen and blood pressure kept dropping. Her body was failing her.
"Mister Tiberias," one of the doctors spoke up. "We understand your concern and share the same worries. Any normal werewolf would've recovered by now, for we've always been known for our stellar healing abilities. Not to mention, werewolves rarely have any deadly allergies…"
"What?" Noah sharply said. "Are you implying my sister-in-law is weak?!" He glowered down at the name. "Dr. Vanessa was it?"
"N-no, no, Mister Tiberias!" Dr. Vanessa quickly corrected. "What I meant to say is, we're concerned if her wolf is responding to her body. The wolf by now, would've been able to heal Mrs. Tiberias."
Noah scowled. He angrily crossed his arms, for he shared the same mentality. Roselia should be up and walking by now. Sure, she was smaller than most werewolves. Sure, she was sickly pale, but he blamed it on her imprisonment.
A horrible, daunting realization fell onto Noah. His soft heart plummeted to his feet.
Did Roselia not have a wolf?
"Well," Noah demanded. "Do something about it! I've read in the textbook that there should be attempts to wake a comatose patient by using dopamine to excite the brain's cortex and trick it into consciousness!"
Dr. Vanessa's expression softened. She placed a hand over her chest. "We completely understand your concerns, Mr. Noah. We're just as empathetic as you are in this situation, but those studies are outdated, and right now, we can only leave it up to Mrs. Tiberias too—"
"Dr. Vanessa!" Beatrice gasped, pointing towards the spiking monitors. "Her heart rate is dropping!"
Dr. Vanessa's head, just as the machines began to beep violently. Loud, warning sounds echoed in the air, just as multiple nurses rushed inside with equipment.
"Mr. Noah, I'm afraid we must ask you to leave right this instant!" Beatrice cried out, ushering Noah towards the door.
"No!" Noah demanded, but his head was beginning to spin from the chaos of it all. Multiple needles were revealed as nurses rushed to fill the syringes with various small vials.
Electricity crackled as Noah realized they were using defibrillators to shock her heart back into stable rates. He was shoved out of the room, his limbs like jello. His ears began to ring from the horrible chaos of watching it all. His vision grew blurry.
"No, I have to stay with her!" Noah shouted, but was hauled outside by security. "Release me this instant, let go!" He struggled against five pairs of hands that tore him from Roselia's room.
The fear of failure stabbed Noah right in the chest. He watched in sheer horror as the nurses injected Roselia.
"Starting with the weakest voltage!" Dr. Vanessa instructed, rubbing the defibrillators together and rushing towards Roselia.
Everything was a blur. Noah could feel and hear himself screaming and protesting to be by Roselia's side. It was useless. He had failed the first task his brothers ever gave him. And because he always skipped their training, Noah was unable to fight against the men who pulled him back.
Noah could only watch as they tried to aid Roselia. Inches separated them. Glass upon glass, windows upon windows he could only watch from the outside. More people rushed inside in an attempt to help her.
"Noah!"
Noah could hear his name being called. He could vaguely feel something warm trickle down his face. A vague, almost forgotten memory triggered inside of him. A memory he swore he buried so deep in his chest, that he had forgotten it.
The memory of his mother dying.
"NOAH!" Kallum smacked his younger brother's shoulders.
Noah snapped back to reality. He was quivering, his teeth chattering. He realized the security guards were all bowed over at a 90-degree angle. Kallum was here.
"What's going on?" Kallum demanded. "What happened to Roselia?!"
"I-I don't know!" Noah shouted. "One minute I was reprimanding the doctors, and the next, her heart rate started to drop!"
"F*ck!" Kallum loudly cursed, planting his hands on his hips and furiously turning to the glass where he could see Roselia's entire body rise out of the hospital bed from the electrical shock emitted through her. She flopped back down, unmoving.
"F*cking hell," Kallum continued, gritting his teeth. "If Cruden hears about this—"
"Hear about what?" Cruden emerged from down the hallways. His voice, despite being a soft utter, echoed in the hallways.
A deafening silence filled the air.
Who was going to be the harbinger of bad news?
Who was the messenger that'd be shot for telling Cruden about the deteriorating condition of his wife?
A wife who was on death's door.
"Roselia flat lined. She's dead."