Chapter 4: The Healer’s Gift

(Grace's POV)

The silence in the car was unbearable. Only the soft hum of the car engine filled the space, mingling with the rhythmic thud of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

I stared out of the tinted window, watching the scenery blur past, even though my mind was far from the road ahead.

My stomach twisted, not just from the nausea clawing at my insides, but from the suffocating weight in the pit of my chest. The kind of ache that had settled there for weeks—the kind Alexander never seemed to notice, or perhaps chose to ignore.

I shifted uncomfortably, pressing a hand lightly to my abdomen as that sickening wave crept up again. Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried to take slow breaths to ease the nausea. But it didn’t help.

“Grace,” Alexander’s voice suddenly cut through the quiet.

My eyes flicked open in surprise. He was watching me from the corner of his eye, his sharp golden gaze narrowing slightly as if assessing me. I straightened in my seat instinctively under his scrutiny.

“You’re off,” he said bluntly. “What’s wrong?”

If only he knew the answer to that question.

“I’m fine,” I muttered. My tone was clipped but cautious, giving nothing away. “Just a bit carsick.”

He frowned at my response but didn’t press further. Instead, he leaned forward, reaching into the small compartment by his side. The movement made his broad shoulders block more of the light streaming through the window.

“Here,” Alexander said as he handed me something. It dangled from his fingers, a familiar glimmer catching the corner of my eye.

I froze.

It was a crystal pendant. One that shimmered faintly, refracting light in a way most ordinary crystals could not. The translucent surface pulsed softly, emitting a faint glow like an ebbing heartbeat.

It radiated warmth the moment it was close, the kind that only a powerful healer’s energy could produce.

“Victoria had this made,” Alexander said, his tone calm and measured, as if he were making casual conversation. “It’s infused with rare healer magic. She said it would help regulate discomfort—nausea and fatigue. You should wear it.”

My chest tightened. My fingers remained still, clenched in my lap, refusing to take the gift.

Because I knew this pendant. Knew it too well.

Three months ago, back when my healer energy was vibrant and alive, I had infused this very crystal in secret. I’d spent hours crafting it, pouring my own essence into its depths, layering it with its protective and healing charges.

The intricate design on the silver casing was something I had chosen myself—a pattern resembling the phases of the moon.

It was meant for Alexander, intended to ease the strain his Alpha wolf constantly endured from managing borders and pack conflicts.

I had placed it in my chambers, intending to gift it to him after his next battle. But it vanished before I ever got the chance. Back then, I assumed I’d simply misplaced it. But here it was now, dangling from his hand and wrapped in lies.

Something sharp twisted in my gut. Not nausea this time, but anger.

Victoria didn’t infuse this crystal. She couldn’t have. She didn’t have the power—no true healer wolf would ever steal someone else’s work and claim it as their own.

And yet, here she was, using what rightfully belonged to me, using my energy as part of her relentless games.

“Go on,” Alexander urged, his brow lifting slightly as he held the pendant closer to me.

I forced myself to meet his gaze. “You believe Victoria made this?”

He stared at me as if I’d asked the world’s most ridiculous question. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? She spent days pouring her energy into creating this. Even the pack healers said how remarkable it was.”

My throat tightened further, the words lodging themselves before they could spill out.

How could he not tell? How could his Alpha instincts, his bond to me, not register that the energy in this crystal belonged to me?

I reached out hesitantly, my mind racing even as my fingers brushed against the pendant. The warmth was unmistakable. A shard of my own essence pulsed back at me as if mocking my silence.

“Thank her for me,” I said evenly as I accepted it, sliding the chain into my palm. The lie tasted bitter in my mouth, but I swallowed it anyway.

Alexander’s expression softened slightly, pleased by my response. “Good. Keep it close. It’ll help.”

He leaned back in his seat, his hand returning to rest on his knee as his piercing eyes settled back on the view outside.

My nails dug lightly into my palm as I clasped the pendant tightly. The familiar warmth radiated against my skin, a stark reminder of what had been taken from me without permission.

Before I could decide whether to confront him—or how—I felt the distinct vibration of Alexander’s phone. The melodic chime of his ringtone interrupted the tense silence.

I didn’t have to ask who was calling. My heart sank the moment I recognized the tune. It was Victoria’s personal ringtone, the one that played every time she called.

Alexander’s shoulders stiffened slightly before he pulled the phone from his pocket. “What is it?” he asked, his voice sharp as he placed the phone to his ear.

Even from my seat, I could hear her panicked voice bleed through the speaker. Her tone was fragile and desperate, as though she barely had enough breath to form her words.

“It’s... my heart...” she wheezed, forcing her voice to deepen in distress. “It’s bad... I... I can’t breathe, Alex... Please...”

Every word made my stomach churn, but I didn’t look at him. I refused to watch the way his expression shifted with concern, the way his brow furrowed as he responded quickly.

“I’m on my way,” he said firmly, shutting the phone without hesitation. His jaw tightened just briefly before meeting the driver’s gaze.

“Take the detour to Victoria’s estate,” Alexander ordered. His authoritative tone left no room for debate.

It took me a second to find words as I tried to process what had just happened. “We were going to Helena’s,” I reminded him, though my voice barely concealed the tremor.

“This is urgent,” he said tersely. “A heart condition is critical—life or death. We’ll go to Helena after this.”

A bitter laugh nearly escaped me. The irony was unbearable. He hadn’t come when I called for him during the rogue attack, hadn’t bolted out the door when I had begged for his help. But here he was now, anxious and commanding, at the mere croak of Victoria’s voice.

I swallowed the rising bile in my throat. “My stomach hurts,” I muttered quietly, gripping my abdomen lightly.

Alexander turned back to me, his eyes softening faintly. “It’s just nausea,” he said, his voice gentler now. “I’ll take you to the hospital after we check on her. A heart attack could lead to a quick—”

The lump in my throat nearly choked me as he spoke. Seeing him like this—so quick to protect her—sent another stab of hurt straight through my chest.

But I said nothing. No matter how much I wanted to scream at him, I wouldn’t lower myself in front of him.

He lifted a hand, placing it carefully against my back to steady me as I leaned forward. “We won’t take long,” he said, his touch warm even though his words cut in ways he probably didn’t understand.

I nodded wordlessly, leaning back into the seat and closing my eyes. The pendant sat heavy in my palm, a painful reminder of the real distance between us.

We arrived at Victoria’s estate all too quickly. Her home loomed in front of us, its elegant facade immaculate, almost theatrical. It was a reflection of her—a showpiece designed to draw admiration.

Alexander stepped out of the car without hesitation, his long strides purposeful as he made his way toward the front entrance. James remained in the driver’s seat, casting me a brief, apologetic glance.

Before closing the door behind him, Alexander paused, turning to address James. “Stay here with Grace,” he commanded, his voice firm.

The door shut with a dull thud, leaving me trapped and suffocating in the car’s stifling air.

I gripped the pendant tightly as I stared at the distant figure of Alexander walking confidently toward her. My thoughts swirled in a bitter storm around me.

He had never looked at me like that—never moved as swiftly for me in my moments of need. The cruel truth settled over me like a heavy shroud.

Alexander hadn’t accepted me as his Luna because he’d wanted me. He had accepted me because of what I stood for—a healer, a symbol, and most of all, a reminder of her. Victoria. His white moonlight. The one he would always run to.

I unclenched my fist, staring down at the crystal in my hand. Its glow mocked me, pulsing faintly with my own stolen energy.

For the first time, I was grateful my wolf was dormant. At least Moonlight couldn’t feel this betrayal burn as deeply as I did.