Chapter 12 The Healer’s Trial

The Blackwood Stronghold was less of a city and more of a fortress carved into the very bones of the mountain. Massive stone arches dripped with ancient icicles, and the air hummed with the collective heartbeat of thousands of Lycans. As Scarlett stepped out of the SUV, the silence that greeted them was heavy—not with respect, but with a sharp, jagged skepticism.

Caleb walked beside her, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. He didn't say a word, but the sheer radiance of his Alpha aura was enough to keep the crowded onlookers at a distance. Yet, Scarlett could feel their eyes—thousands of gold and amber irises tracking her every move like she was a virus introduced into a healthy body.

"They won't accept me just because you tell them to, Caleb," Scarlett whispered as they crossed the Great Hall.

"They will accept you because you are mine," Caleb rumbled, his voice echoing off the vaulted stone ceilings. "And if they do not, I will remind them why I am the one wearing the crown."

Their path was suddenly blocked by an elderly woman with silver hair braided with wolf teeth. She was Elder Martha, the lead healer of the pack and one of the most respected voices in the North. Behind her, two young warriors carried a stretcher holding a small, convulsing pup.

"My King," Martha said, her voice trembling with a mixture of grief and defiance. "You return to us with a Thorne woman at your side. While you were gone, a shadow fell over our nursery. This pup, the son of our finest scout, has been gripped by a fever that no herb or moon-blessing can break. They say this human is a witch of the East. If she is truly your mate, let her prove she is not here to poison us further."

Caleb’s eyes flashed a lethal gold. "You dare test her, Martha?"

"It is not a test, My Lord," Martha replied, bowing her head. "It is a plea for mercy. If the child dies, the pack will see it as a curse brought by your guest."

Scarlett looked at the pup. His skin was gray, and black veins—identical to the ones she had seen on Caleb’s soul—were creeping up his neck. This wasn't a biological fever; it was a lingering fragment of the Void-Curse that Julian had released, now spreading like a contagion through the pack's weakest members.

"I can save him," Scarlett said, stepping forward before Caleb could intervene.

The warriors growled, but Caleb’s warning glance silenced them. Scarlett knelt beside the stretcher, pulling out a small silk pouch of crushed moonstone and a fresh talisman. She could feel the hostility of the room pressing in on her, a thousand wolves waiting for her to fail so they could justify her execution.

She didn't use a brush this time. She hummed a low, vibrating frequency, a mantra of purification, and pressed the moonstone-infused talisman against the pup’s forehead. “By the breath of the mountain and the silver of the moon, let the shadow depart!”

She funneled her spiritual energy through the talisman. A soft, white light erupted from the paper, clashing violently with the black veins on the child's skin. The pup let out a small, pained whimper, and for a second, the crowd surged forward, thinking she was hurting him.

Caleb’s shadow wolf manifested behind him, a terrifying silent roar halting the crowd in their tracks.

Suddenly, the black veins recoiled, dissolving into a foul-smelling gray mist that evaporated into the cold air. The pup’s breathing evened out, his gray skin flushing with a healthy, pink glow. He opened his eyes—clear, bright amber—and let out a tiny, hungry yelp.

The silence that followed was absolute. Elder Martha gasped, dropping to her knees to check the child. "The curse... it is gone. In all my years, I have never seen such a swift cleansing."

Scarlett stood up, her face pale from the effort, but her eyes were steady. She looked at the warriors, the elders, and the scouts. The skepticism was still there, but it was now tempered with a budding, begrudging awe.

Caleb stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against his chest in a public display of claiming. "The next person who questions my mate’s presence," he said, his voice a low thunder that shook the hall, "will answer to my claws. She did not come to poison you. She came to be your Queen."

As they moved toward the inner sanctum, Scarlett felt a shift in the air. She hadn't just saved a child; she had bought herself a seat at the table. But as she looked at Caleb—his eyes now burning with a dark, triumphant pride—she knew the real battle had just begun. The Thorne family would be coming for their "Lunar Key," and the North was now her only fortress.