Again

Maya's POV 

"I'm alive. Oh my god, I’m actually alive."

The words left my lips in a breathless whisper as I lay flat on my back, staring blankly at the heavy velvet drapes hanging from the four-poster bed. 

My hands were shaking so violently I had to press them hard against the mattress just to keep them steady. My mind was spinning, completely refusing to process the last twenty minutes.

One second I was bound to a wooden post with a leather whip inches from my skin. The next, a little six-year-old girl was throwing herself in front of me, screaming at the Lycan King.

"Princess Anastasia..."

She actually saved me. She looked right at that terrifying man—her father—and demanded my life because I didn't leave her in those dark tunnels.

A bitter, broken laugh escaped my throat. It quickly turned into a ragged sob that I had to choke back down. 

A Lycan princess I met in the dirt protected me, but my own son hated me. It was entirely my fault for being too slow, too human, too late.

And Marcus... god, Marcus didn't even hesitate to throw me away.

I remembered the whispers of the guards outside my dungeon cell over the last three days. He told them the human meant nothing to the pack, that they could string me up for all he cared. He had discarded me like a piece of trash. He was probably celebrating with Talia right now, letting her tuck my baby into bed.

"No. Don't think about Marcus. He doesn't matter," I told myself sharply, forcing my eyes open to stare at the ceiling. "Leo is the only thing that matters."

I sat up quickly, ignoring the sudden, familiar flutter of pain in my chest. 

I can't forget my predicament. I've advanced heart failure and three months to live. 

I might never return to my Leo. Or even take up Julian's offer. But while I was here in the Lycan Pack, I must make the best out of this three months. 

"I don't have time to sit here and cry," I muttered, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "Leo is angry, and Talia is whispering poison in his ear, but he is still my baby."

I stood up, my boots hitting the stone.

"I have to write to him. I have to find a way to get a letter across the border to tell him the truth before my time runs out."

I needed parchment. A pen. Anything. I started pacing the room, scanning the heavy wooden furniture.

"I need to explain things to him."

I took another step, clenching my fists.

"I need to tell him why I was late."

The sharp click of the door lock cut my frantic thoughts short.

I spun around as the heavy oak door swung open. A neat line of a dozen young servants marched into the room, pushing silver trolleys that clicked loudly against the stone floor. 

They were loaded with hundreds of glass vials, dark liquid tinctures, and rows of heavy metallic syringes. It looked like a pharmacy supply room.

A young maid with wide, anxious blue eyes stepped forward, bowing her head.

"Greetings, Nanny Maya. My name is Chloe."

At the mention of the word Nanny, my brows furrowed? But it relaxed soon since I was cool with it. 

A nanny was a profession. It shouldn't be frowned upon, and I was to be a doctor nanny. Or a nanny doctor. 

Whichever was it. 

As the maid, Chloe gestured to the carts behind her, I followed her gaze. 

"His Majesty ordered us to bring you the Princess’s daily medical regimen. You are to administer these according to the schedule."

I walked over to the nearest trolley, my brain instantly overriding my panic the second my eyes hit the labels. I picked up a dark blue vial, scanning the archaic script, then grabbed a yellow one next to it.

"She takes all of this?" I asked, my voice cracking with horror.

I stared at Chloe.

"Every single day?"

Chloe swallowed hard, nodding quickly.

"Yes, ma'am. The Royal Healers prescribe them."

She stepped back nervously as I held up the vials.

"Three doses in the morning, four at noon, and the heavy sedatives before bed to keep the seizures away."

"This isn't a treatment, this is a chemical straightjacket!" I shouted, pure fury flooded my veins.

"She is a six-year-old child!" I continued, slamming a vial back onto the tray.

"These doses are high enough to sedate a fully grown wolf warrior."

I grabbed another bottle, showing her the label.

"This isn't stopping her seizures; it’s systematically destroying her nervous system and suppressing her lungs!"

The more I kept explaining, the more my hands shook with rage.

"It’s a miracle her heart hasn't stopped entirely!" I snarled. 

As Chole jumped back, her face had turned pale with fright.

"We... we only follow the orders of the Chief Healer, ma'am."

She quickly turned toward the door.

"Please, we must leave them."

Before I could argue, she signaled the others. The servants practically sprinted out of the room, slamming the door shut and locking it from the outside.

Left alone, I stared at the hundreds of gleaming glass bottles. My chest thudned painfully, a sharp spike of heat flaring in my own failing heart from pure stress.

"They are going to kill her."

I looked at the mountain of chemicals, my breathing turning shallow.

"If I let them give her even one more dose of these chemicals, her body will give out." I muttering, leaning against the trolley, forcing myself to stand straight.

"I am her doctor now. I can't let this happen. I won't"

With that, I grabbed the nearest silver tray and violently flipped it.

The explosion of shattering glass echoed through the room. 

Dozens of vials crashed against the stone, the thick, foul liquid pooling across the floor. I didn't stop. I

I grabbed a handful of syringes and smashed them against the wall, sweeping the rest of the bottles off the tables, desperate to ensure no one could ever force them down Anastasia's throat again.

"What do you think you are doing, human?!"

The icy roar cut through the sound of breaking glass.

I spun around just as the door flew open. Standing in the entryway was a woman dressed in an immaculate, dark leather uniform adorned with heavy iron crests. 

Her expression was carved from pure, murderous ice, and the sheer authority dripping from her posture made it clear she held a high rank among the guards.

An enforcer. And from the look on her face, a lethal one.

Her cold eyes scanned the ruined medicine on the floor, then locked onto my shaking hands.

"You worthless, murderous piece of filth," she hissed, her crushing aura instantly exploding into the room and making my knees buckle under the weight.

"The King spares your pathetic life, and you immediately try to finish the job?"

She stepped into the room, her boots crunching on the glass.

"You are actively destroying the Princess's vital medicine." She yelled, baring her fangs.

"You are trying to kill her!" As if her yells weren't enough, she accused. 

Instantly, my eyes widened. I just got out of an execution. I needed to defend myself before something pulls me back into death's abode. 

"No! Listen to me, it's poison—"

I couldn't even finish the sentence. The woman moved with blinding, supernatural speed. Before I could even blink, she crossed the room and her hand shot out like a steel vice.

Her fingers wrapped tightly around my throat, slamming my back brutally against the stone wall. The force of the impact knocked the remaining air right out of my lungs. Her grip tightened instantly, lifting my feet completely off the floor.

I couldn't breathe.

I clawed frantically at her heavy leather gloves, but she didn't even flinch. Above me, my failing heart gave a violent, agonizing flutter. 

The lack of oxygen sent a wave of black spots exploding across my vision as the enforcer stared up at me with dead, murderous eyes.

Fuck, I was going to die again.