Chapter 25

ALPHA TRISTAN 

After Alpha Rune the Conqueror departed, my health quickly and violently deteriorated. Healer Nayomi and her young apprentice did everything within their power, but my body simply was not responding to the treatment. The real fear—the one that hung over the entire pack house like a shroud—was that the Full Moon was fast approaching, and everyone knew exactly what that meant. It meant that the magical toxin in my system could become a permanent wolfsbane infection, and death would likely be instantaneous.

There was a profound, heavy sadness in how everyone carried themselves. It was painfully obvious to me now that Yvonne had betrayed me; with no known cure, she had vanished with the only person who could have possibly helped. Was this a mere coincidence, or was this a meticulously planned coup? Why would she choose to flee at the very moment she was left in charge of the pack’s stability?

I was deep in these dark thoughts when Elder Yamal entered the room, his face etched with worry. "This does not look good, Alpha. Would you consider finally taking up Alpha Rune's offer for assistance?"

"I would rather die than take up that man's offer. I will not be humiliated like that in front of my peers," I spat, the effort making my throat burn.

"It is not a matter of pride anymore, Tristan. Everyone knows what will happen next if you do not receive intervention. You cannot simply wish this away. Nayomi tells me that your body is actively rejecting all the blood transfusions that have been given," Yamal spoke, the genuine concern in his voice echoing through the silent chamber.

"It’s not as bad as it looks," I said dismissively, but the truth was that the situation was catastrophic. Portions of my flesh had already begun to rot, the stench of decay clinging to the fine linens of my bed. "If you have nothing else to say, Elder, you can leave."

"No, I will not leave until I am heard. Since we both know where this road leads—unless there is an intervention—I think it is time you name a legal successor." I was not surprised by the request. Elder Yamal was someone who famously wore his feelings on his sleeves and would always bare his mind without fear or favor, regardless of the consequences.

"Yeah, I’ll think about it," I murmured, waving a trembling hand for him to leave. He had revealed a harsh reality I had not yet allowed myself to fully contemplate.

I remained alone, distracted by the pungent smell of my own rotting flesh, which was the only thing keeping me conscious through the haze of pain. Every breath I took felt like inhaling ground glass. The black veins of the toxin had reached my throat, pulsing with a rhythmic, agonizing heat that seemed to mock the power of my Alpha blood. I was a king sitting on a throne of sweat and blood-soaked linen, waiting for the inevitable end.

Suddenly, the heavy oak doors of my chamber swung open. I expected a healer with more useless salves or a cooling basin, but the silhouette that stepped into the light was unmistakable.

"Yvonne," I wheezed, my hand clawing weakly at the bedpost for leverage.

She looked disheveled, a far cry from her usual perfection. She wore blue jeans and a black turtleneck with sturdy boots, yet she still walked with that same elegance and class that I had always admired. Rage, hot and sharp, flared through my agony. "Traitor," I gasped, the word rattling in my chest like a death knell. "Guards! Seize her! Chain her in the same hole where she left the girl!"

The guards at the door hesitated, looking back and forth between their dying Alpha and his formidable Right Hand.

"Tristan, stop," Yvonne said, her voice steady and commanding despite the chaos. She stepped closer, ignoring the guards entirely. "I didn't flee to betray you. I fled to save the only leverage we have left."

"Leverage? What in the world are you talking about?"

"Soon after you left for work, a man came here—his name was Khalid, a contact from the Crescent Moon territory. He warned me that Alpha Rune had already confirmed the use of scent-maskers. He knew that Kaelen's signature scent was used at Mari's clinic. He knew we had the girl. If I had stayed, Rune would have found her within the hour."

"He was already here," I barked, a wet cough spraying crimson blood onto my chin. "Rune... he searched every inch of this house while I lay here like a dog. He found her scent in the cell. He knows she was here."

Yvonne’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn't falter. "Then it’s a good thing I took her when I did. She’s safe, Tristan. I have her in a safe house on the outskirts of the city. He’ll never find her there."

For the first time in days, a wave of relief washed through me. I finally knew that she hadn't truly betrayed me or run away out of cowardice. I was even begrudgingly impressed that she took the initiative to relocate Sara, otherwise Alpha Rune would have certainly discovered her here.

"This Khalid, do you know him personally?" I began to ask, but then it dawned on me that I was asking the wrong questions. "Where is Sara? I need her."

I don't know if it was because of the desperation in my voice, but Yvonne raised a suspicious, judgmental eyebrow at me. "You need Sara, the slave?" She asked with a mocking scoff. "I just want to be sure that we are talking about the very same person." There was a thick layer of sarcasm in her voice.

"It’s not like that, Yvonne," I said, taking a deep, rattling sigh. "Nayomi's apprentice said Sara was capable of healing me, that she’s seen her do it before. That was when it was reported that you had disappeared with her."

"You don't know for sure. This could be a ploy to get you to forget about her crime. It’s entirely possible that this apprentice was merely a fan of Sara’s," Yvonne protested vehemently, her face reddening.

"I don't know, Yvonne, but I have to take any chance I see. The way I see it, I have three choices: I take her help, I wait for the full moon and the wolfsbane it brings, or I watch my flesh rot away until I die of a systemic infection." I pleaded with her, hoping she would finally understand the gravity of my situation.

"Fine, I'll go bring her," she hissed after a moment of tense hesitation.

The door cracked open just as she reached for the handle, and Kaelen, my lead tracker, slipped in with a grim face. "Yvonne, so nice to see you back," he said, though he sounded genuinely relieved.

"What's the situation?" I asked before Yvonne could even reply.

"Alpha, we have a major problem. Rune’s spies are thick in the city. We’ve spotted shadow units at the main crossroads. One of them let it slip last night that Alpha Rune wanted them to report every single entry into the city," Kaelen revealed.

Yvonne raised an eyebrow, quickly catching on to the implications. "Meaning if I move the girl openly, they’ll swarm us, and Alpha Rune would return again. Only this time, he would return to annihilate us."

"Exactly," Kaelen affirmed.

"How do we get her here then?" I demanded, the black veins in my neck tightening painfully. "I need her. Now!"

"We put her in the boot of an unmarked car," Kaelen suggested quickly. "Drive to the restaurant three blocks away—The Iron Hearth. There’s a secret passage in the cellar that leads directly into our servant quarters. We can bypass the street patrols entirely."

"Do it," I commanded, my voice failing. "Bring her to me. Or don't bother coming back at all."

Now that I knew Sara was alive and close, I realized that I finally had a reason to keep fighting for my life. I was willing to struggle. I don't know how long I waited in that fever dream, but I was drifting toward the final darkness when the side door behind the painting finally opened. Yvonne emerged, dragging a figure draped in a heavy, dark cloak. She threw the girl toward the foot of my bed with no mercy.

Sara Lockwood stood up, her midnight blue dress torn and dusty, her silver collar glinting in the dim light of the chamber. She looked at me, and there was absolutely no pity in her eyes. There was only a cold, hard vacuum where compassion should have been.

"Heal me," I muttered, reaching a trembling, blackened hand toward her. "They say you can... they say your touch... your skill... it can purge the toxin. Do it. Now."

Sara didn't move. She didn't speak. She simply stood there, her gaze fixed on the wall behind my head.

"Are you dumb?" I growled, the frustration boiling over into rage. "Answer me!"

She didn't even flinch at my outburst. She slowly turned her head toward Yvonne, a silent, questioning look in her eyes. Yvonne sighed, a sharp, impatient sound that echoed in the room.

"You have permission to speak, slave," Yvonne muttered.

"I don't understand. Why is she acting like this?" I raised my eyebrow to look at Yvonne.

"It’s nothing serious. I had to put her in her place when you left, especially after she had disrespected you so flagrantly. Now she speaks only when she is spoken to." Yvonne looked proud of herself, but I didn't think now was a good time to victimize someone we desperately needed. "Now, Sara, do as you are told."

Sara looked back at me, her voice coming out like a low, melodic blade. "I will not heal you, Tristan. Not if it saves your life. Not if it saves this entire pack. I would rather watch the black veins take your heart than spend a single second trying to mend a monster like you."

"You are a slave!" I roared, the massive effort sending a jolt of pure agony through my chest. "You have no choice! I will have you broken! I will have you whipped until you beg for the chance to touch me!"

Sara stepped closer to the bed, her chin lifting in a gesture of pure, suicidal defiance. "Then call the guards. Fetch the whip. I would rather be spanked and beaten until I lose consciousness than lay a single finger on the man who murdered my soul. Your pain is the only justice I have left in this world."

Yvonne’s patience finally snapped. She stepped forward and backhanded Sara across the face, the sound of the strike echoing like a gunshot. The blow sent the girl sprawling onto the hard tiled floor. "Heal him!" Yvonne screamed, her voice cracking. "Heal him or I’ll make you wish for the death he’s currently facing!"

"Stop!"

A new voice cut through the tension with the force of an Alpha’s command. Nayomi, the oldest healer in the pack—a woman who had served my father long before me—stepped out from the shadows of the corner. She had tried her best with her herbs and ancient knowledge but had been unable to save me. She walked with a heavy cane, her eyes clouded with age but still sharp with a terrifying wisdom.

"You are going about this the entirely wrong way," Nayomi said, her voice a calm, chilling ripple in the room. She looked at Yvonne with disappointment, then down at the bleeding girl on the floor. "You cannot force a gift of the blood. If she does not give it willingly, the healing will turn to poison in your veins, Tristan. It will kill you faster than the toxin ever could."

I gripped the silk sheets, my breath coming in shallow, terrified gasps. "What... what do I do then?"

"You must appease her," Nayomi warned, her gaze moving toward the window where the moon was beginning its ascent. "You are out of time for cruelty. The Full Moon is coming. If he is not healed by the time the moon reaches its zenith, the wolfsbane infection will be permanent. He will become a feral beast, a creature of pure madness, and the Twilight Zone will fall into ruin with him."

The strange thing is that there is an old belief that while wolfsbane would kill any ordinary person, it would merely drive an Alpha mad, turning them into a monster. Some said it was fiction, others swore it was the truth, but I was not willing to find out which it was.

I looked at Sara, who was slowly pushing herself up from the floor, wiping the fresh blood from her split lip. She looked at me and smiled—a small, terrible, and triumphant smile of a woman who knew she finally held all the cards in her hand.

"Appease me, Tristan," she whispered, her voice echoing in the silent room. "I’m waiting."