Chapter 125
Chapter 125
Lila
The scent of lavender and antiseptic clung to the hallway and burned my nose. I moved quietly, my boots whispering across the smooth stone floor of the infirmary as I passed rows of shuttered windows and neatly organized cabinets.
**
The healer’s ward was half–empty, no surprise, given the early hour. Most wolves preferred to suffer in silence unless bleeding half to death,
I told myself I was here for contraceptive tea. A practical follow–up. Routine. Responsible.
And while that was true, it wasn’t my only reason for this visit.
Ruby hadn’t stirred properly. Not that she ever did, but I felt deep down that something was very wrong with me. With her.
After the rush of power when Damon’s teeth met my skin. She’d howled once–fierce, electric–and then… faded. As if something inside her had curled up again, too exhausted to hold onto that flash of strength and connection.
And I needed to know why. Why was I like this, why had this been done to me, and who could do such a thing?
The heater looked up as I entered. A middle–aged woman I hadn’t met before with pale hands and thick braids coiled tightly at the crown of her head, she smiled with practiced warmth.
“My Lady,” she greeted, straightening from a mortar she’d been grinding. “You’re up early.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said. “I thought I might get something for… balance. A calming blend. And, uh, the contraceptive tea.”
She tamped down a knowing smile, then it faltered, just slightly. “Of course.”
The healer turned and moved toward one of the shelves, fingers moving too quickly as she reached for bundles of dried herbs. Chamomile, valerian, raspberry leaf. Familiar smells.
My eyes drifted over the room and scanned the jars labeled in elegant script, a worn cot in the corner, a basin steaming faintly in the center of the
counter.
“I’ve also been feeling… odd,” I said, gently. “Not sick, exactly. Just off. My wolf is quieter than usual.”
Her hands stilled. Just for a moment, but it was enough to make me pause.
I watched her back. The line of her shoulders. The way her fingers resumed their movement with sudden care.
“Changes are normal after a mark,” she said. “Especially with strong Alphas. Your system’s likely just adjusting.”
“Adjusting,” I echoed. “Even though I’ve felt this before. Long before the mark,”
She paused again, longer this time, before placing the bundle of tea herbs into a cloth pouch and tying it shut with swift fingers.
“It’s been a stressful season for many,” she said. “The trials. The rogue incident. Your recovery…”
“I’m not asking for an excuse,” I said, more sharply than I intended. “I want clarity. I want to know if my wolf is… damaged. Poisoned. Suppressed.”
She turned then.
Her eyes met mine, and there was something behind them, fear, maybe. Or guilt. It flickered and vanished as quickly as it came.
“I’m not qualified to speak of wolf–magic on that level,” she said softly. “I can refer you to a Pack herbalist, or the spiritual advisors—
“You’re a palace healer.”
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Chapter 125
“Yes.” She folded her hands. “And I’m under considerable pressure to keep the court calm. So unless you’re hemorrhaging or in mortal danger, forgive me for being cautious.”
Her words were civil. Her tone was not.
I narrowed my eyes. “Has
Someone else come in asking about this?”
A heartbeat passed. She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“You reacted like you’d heard this before. That’s not nerves, that’s recognition.”
“I have patients from all over,” she replied smoothly. “Their concerns aren’t mine to share.”
“I’m not asking for names. Just tell me…am I alone in this?”
The healer’s lips pressed into a thin line. Then, softly, she said, “You’re not the only one who’s asked. But most don’t know the right questions,
That stunned me into silence.
She turned back to her workstation, avoiding my gaze. “I’ll prepare a stronger tonic for you. Something to soothe your wolf, just in case it’s energetic misalignment. That happens sometimes.”
Energetic misalignment. Goddess, she might as well have said moon madness and handed me a crystal.
I stared at her back, something hot crawling up the back of my throat. Anger or fear, I couldn’t tell which.
But I said nothing. I just turned and walked out without the pouch of tea still resting beside her, my mind racing.
Because it wasn’t clarity I’d found in that room, it was confirmation that a greater conspiracy was being hidden. Someone else was either suppressed like me or looking into it. And it was closer to the surface than I realized.
And didn’t that make me sound like I needed that moon madness crystal after all.
I moved quietly down the hallway, but everything inside me felt loud–heartbeat, breath, thoughts spinning like a tornado jumbling it all together.
I hadn’t gotten the tea. I hadn’t gotten any answers.
But I’d gotten something else. Something worse. A truth confirmation, suspended in the healer’s guarded eyes.
I was halfway to the end of the corridor when I felt it. A shift in the air, subtle but undeniable. It felt like fingers against the back of my neck. I slowed instinctively, my wolf still curled in silence beneath my skin, but alert enough to raise her head.
Then I saw Asher. He emerged from a side passage farther down the corridor, turning left into view without noticing me.
His shoulders were stiff beneath his fine dark shirt, the embroidery at the collar twisted from how roughly he’d yanked it straight. His hair was a little disheveled, not artfully tousled the way he usually wore it.
And his expression… Grim. Cold. Something carved from stone and flaming just beneath the surface.
He looked like a man who had just lost a fight, but not the kind that bruised skin. The kind that cracked something deeper. I knew
reak when I saw
- it.
I flattened myself slightly against the curve of a shadowed alcove, half out of instinct, half out of curiosity and fear.
He stalked forward, his boots hitting the floor with controlled violence, every line of his body drawn tight as a bowstring.
Then his scent hit me. Freshly angry. Not spiced or sharp the way fury usually clung to him.
This was sour. Bitter, Like rage left to rot.
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Chapter 125
I stared after him, my breath catching at the back of my throat. That scent didn’t come from a single confrontation–it came from something tome brewing. Something calculated.
And he’d come from the infirmary.
My mind jumped back to the healer’s words. You’re not the only one who’s asked. But most
don’t know the right questions.
What did he ask? More importantly: what had he already known?
Asher disappeared around the far corner, never looking back. I stayed in the alcove until his scent faded, leaving only silence and the cold stone at my
back.
The unease that had started earlier coiled tighter in my chest. I didn’t know what I’d just seen. But I knew
w what it felt like.
It felt like trouble and Asher was standing at the center of it.