The Night He Chose Her Instead of Me

Winnie’s POV

I woke up with a jolt so sharp that I nearly fell off the bed.

It was the nightmare again, but this time, it wasn't the rogues just chasing me.

It was a war, a bloody war, and what confuses and frightens me is that for some reason, it appears that I am in the center of the war.

“Shit,” I muttered, sitting upright and rubbing my forehead.

My eyes lazily shifted from my blankets, then to the window, which almost blinded me with the harsh sunlight coming through it, and they finally landed on the clock.

7:48 AM.

My shift starts at 8!!!

“Oh, come on!” I yelped. I grabbed my alarm clock. “I hate you!” I screamed at it before smashing it back to its stand.

I scrambled out of bed.

Then I threw my hair into something that resembled a bun.

I splashed water on my face and poured some mouthwash in my mouth.

I grabbed my shoes mid-run and dashed outside like a wolf possessed, without even bothering to take a bite of the bread I had put on my table last night.

By the time I burst through the hospital doors, breathing like I had been pursued by a monster and feeling half-dead, Dr. Hellebrandt was already waiting.

And I swear, her glare could behead an adult dragon.

“You are fifteen minutes late, Miss Godfrey.”

“I know, I am sorry. My alarm betrayed me! It’s defective, faulty, evil—”

She cut me off with a raised eyebrow. “The only thing defective here is your punctuality.”

I laughed nervously. “I’ll… uh… work on that.”

“Better get to work before I fire your ass!” She huffed and walked away, and that was when the chaos truly began.

The moment I stepped into the ward, I regretted waking up.

The hospital was literally a war zone.

On my right was a pup who had eaten his mum's glitter makeup, wheezing and sneezing glitter while his mother kept yelling at everyone.

And on my left, a teenage wolf claimed he could shift into a hawk, and he was in full panic mode.

Someone else was crying because the ceiling tiles were “disrespecting the moon alignment.”

Seriously?

And in room six… sat my personal nightmare.

Archibald Greysen—the elderly ex-pack historian who had been sent here because of his arm injury.

It seemed like his children had forgotten him here, as no one had come to check on him for the past three months.

“MISS WINNIE!” he roared the second he saw me. “MY ARM IS MISALIGNED!”

“Sir, your arm looks exactly like it did yesterday.” I almost rolled my eyes.

“Exactly! Incorrect! At my age, I know what I'm saying. Do you know how many great battles this arm has witnessed?!”

I sighed. “Sir… you barely leave your cottage.”

“NONSENSE!” he snapped. “Now realign it, just the way my ancestors would have. I would give you instructions if you need them.”

I stared, then stared harder, wishing something in my eyes could scare him or force him to shut the hell up.

I wonder why he has not been transferred to an asylum yet.

And why should I be the one assigned to attend to him today?

Why meeeee?

But just then I caught something on his face.

“Sir… you have a micro cut on your face. How did you get it?” I asked, inspecting the fresh cut on his cheek.

“A wound!” he gasped. “From the battlefield!”

“No, this one happened a few minutes ago. You should trigger your healing powers.”

He ignored me completely and began recounting the entire Battle of Silverpine Woods while I disinfected and bandaged the cut.

Clara peeked in, wide-eyed. “Oh… he’s in his dramatic era again.”

Ah, thank Moon Goddess.

“Save me,” I mouthed.

Clara seemed to be the only staff that can cope with such patients. She handles them well as if it's her special calling.

“Mr. Greysen, how about you let me help you so you can tell the full story later without interruption?” she asked, smiling at me like a hero.

His eyes sparkled with joy.

“A woman of culture! Finally!”

Clara winked at me over her shoulder.

I almost cried with relief.

I walked out, heaving a sigh of relief, but the day only got worse.

And worse? The minutes passed slowly, like months.

The patient who was crying over the tiles’ design disrespecting the moon jumped at a doctor to fight to defend the moon.

By 3 PM, I was convinced the moon was messing with us on purpose.

Finally, after surviving three emergencies and five different fights, the day was finally over, and Clara and I ran to the cafeteria, sipping tea.

Clara dropped into the chair beside me. “We survived, congratulations to us!”

We both laughed.

We finished our tea and headed back to the hospital to round off the day's work.

“Miss Godfrey, move the pup in ward 6 to ward 9,” a doctor said.

That was it.

My final task for the day.

Medicine isn't for the weak.

My body ached badly, reminding me of how much I wanted to dive into my fluffy bed.

I was signing out when my phone buzzed violently in my pocket.

Unknown number.

I glanced at the screen for five seconds at the screen before answering.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end spoke only a few words.

But those words… they knocked the air out of my lungs.

My hand became a trembling mess, and the phone slid from my fingers, falling to the ground with a loud noise that made heads turn.

My knees hit the floor before I could stop it.

“WINNIE?!” Clara shouted, grabbing my shoulders. “What is it? What happened?!”

I couldn’t speak.

I couldn’t breathe.

All I could see was my fellow interns and nurses surrounding me in panic.

And slowly, the world dimmed around me, and everything went quiet, but the words I heard from the caller wouldn't stop ringing in my head over and over again.