Chapter 4

The clock on the wall clicked to 9:00 PM. Lumina tossed a stained rag into the bin and reached for the light switch.

"Finally. Peace and a warm bed," she muttered to herself.

She rolled her neck, feeling it crack in three places. It had been a long day. Lumina had locked up alone, cleaned up alone, and was now talking to herself alone. Just another Tuesday.

"You really need a hobby," she told herself, reaching for her coat.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The front door groaned under the force of the blows. Lumina jumped, her hand darting for a silver scalpel on the tray.

"I'm closed! Go to the hospital!" she shouted toward the door.

"Open this door! Now!" a voice roared back. The sound was so powerful that it made the jars on her shelves rattle. "He's dying, damn it! Open the door, or I'll kick it off the hinges!"

Lumina's wolf sat up straight inside her chest. That was not a regular wolf. That was a high-ranking wolf, someone with serious Alpha blood in their veins, and they were absolutely terrified.

She threw the bolt and pulled the door open. Four massive men in tactical gear shoved past her, carrying a man who looked like he was already halfway to the grave. The air in the room instantly turned heavy, thick with the scent of pine and electricity, the dying aura of an Alpha.

"Move him there! Now!" Lumina barked, pointing to the surgical bed. "Move!"

The lead guard, a man with a scarred face, gripped her arm. "I'm Cain, Beta of the Supreme Pack. This is Supreme Alpha Dylan Virelli. It was an ambush. Silver poisoning."

Lumina's breath caught in her throat. "Dylan Virelli? The Supreme Alpha? Are you insane? Why did you bring him here?"

"He refused the hospital," Cain growled, his eyes frantic. "The doctors there are too slow. We heard you have miracle hands. Well? Can you save him?"

"You heard I have miracle hands, so you brought the Supreme Alpha to a one-room clinic in Crestwood?" Lumina stared at him. "Who told you that?"

"Does it matter right now?" Cain snapped.

Lumina tore open Dylan's shirt, gasping at the black, bubbling veins spreading across his chest. "This isn't just silver. This is concentrated silver nitrate. It's eating him from the inside out."

"I don't care what it's called!" Cain yelled, slamming his hand on the counter. "Can you save him or not?"

"Silver poisoning like this has a 90% fatality rate, Cain," Lumina said, her voice shaking but firm. "You brought him to a small clinic, not a miracle ward. He's barely breathing."

"Then make him breathe!" Cain's voice cracked, and for just a second, beneath all that fury, Lumina saw something raw. Something that looked a lot like a man who was about to lose his best friend. 

"If you want me to save him, then get out. All of you. Now!" Lumina screamed!

"We aren't leaving his side," another guard started, stepping forward. He was enormous, easily the biggest man in the room. "Our orders are to stay with the Alpha at all times."

"Your orders," Lumina said, turning to face him with a calm that surprised even herself, "are now to get out of my clinic. Because if you stay, you will distract me. And if you distract me, he dies. Is that what you want to explain to the council? That the Supreme Alpha died because four grown men couldn't follow simple instructions?"

The big guard looked at Cain.

"If you stay, you'll distract me, and he'll be dead in three minutes!" Lumina pointed a blood-stained finger at the door. "Get out and guard the perimeter! If I see one of you peeking through the window, I stop working. Is that clear?"

Cain hesitated, looking at his leader's pale face, then back at Lumina. Something shifted in his expression. A decision being made.

"Do your job, Healer. For your sake and ours."

"If he dies," the big guard muttered on his way out, "there will be nowhere on this earth you can hide."

"Noted," Lumina said flatly. "Now get out."

The door slammed shut. The room went quiet. It was now just Lumina and the dying Supreme Alpha.

She turned to the man on the bed. He was beautiful in a rugged, terrifying way, even with the gray tint of death on his skin. Strong jaw. Wide shoulders. The kind of face that was built for authority. Right now, it was slack and pale and frighteningly still.

"Okay. Let's see what we're dealing with," she whispered, pulling her hair back.

She pressed her hands to his chest, and the moment her skin touched his, a massive spark of electricity snapped between them.

"Ouch! What in the..." She pulled back, staring at her tingling fingers. "What is wrong with you?"

She shook her hand out and pressed it back down. This time, the spark turned into a surge of heat. A golden light erupted from her palms, fiercer than any healing she had ever done in Riverside. Deep in her soul, a voice she had silenced for eleven months suddenly screamed with a joy that made her dizzy.

Mate.

"No," Lumina hissed, her jaw tightening. "Shut up. Not now. Not him."

Mate! He is the one! Look at him! Her wolf howled back.

"I said shut up!" Lumina whispered fiercely. "He's a patient. That's all. I am not doing this again."

"I mean it," she added under her breath, her hands glowing brighter. "I have been very clear about this. No more bonds. No more Alphas. No more any of this."

Her wolf went quiet. But she didn't believe it for a second.

She pushed her energy into his blackening veins, hunting the poison. "Stay with me, Dylan," she muttered, sweat dripping into her eyes. Don't you dare die on my table. Fight it!

The electricity between them crackled, snapping against her skin like tiny whips. It hurt, but she didn't pull away. She found the crystallized silver near his heart. "Come on... break... break for me!"

"You are not dying tonight," she told him through gritted teeth. "Not in my clinic. Not on my table. I don't care how important you are, Dylan Virelli. You are going to fight this."

She felt his heart skip, then thud, a heavy, powerful rhythm that shook the table. The blackness began to recede. The wound started to knit together. Exhausted, Lumina slumped into a chair three hours later, her clothes soaked in sweat and his blood.

"You're stable," she breathed, watching his chest rise and fall. "You're actually sleeping. How are you sleeping through this?"

She had heard the rumors. The Supreme Alpha hadn't slept properly in seven years. The 'Insomniac King,' they called him. But here he was, breathing deeply, his face finally relaxing into something that looked almost peaceful.

"Seven years," she murmured, studying him. "What happened to you seven years ago?"

He didn't answer. Obviously.

Mate, her wolf whispered, softer this time. He feels so good. Stay.

"He's just an Alpha," Lumina told the empty room. "An Alpha means pack politics. An Alpha means rejection. I'm going upstairs. I'm washing my hands, and I'm calling Cain to take him away."

She stood up to walk to the sink, her legs feeling like lead. "I'll tell them he needs rest. I'll tell them to take him to his own territory. I'm done. I saved him. The debt is paid."

She got as far as the door.

But as she reached the door, she heard a soft, pained groan. Dylan shifted on the table, his brow furrowing as if a nightmare was catching up to him. His hand searched the air, his fingers twitching as if he were reaching for a lifeline.

Lumina stopped walking.

"Don't," she told herself quietly. "Don't do it. Walk out the door. Call Cain. Go to bed."

She turned around.

Lumina walked back to the bed. "Just checking the bandage," she lied to the silence. "One last check on the heart rate."

She reached out to adjust the sheet, but his hand moved fast. His fingers closed around her wrist. Lumina froze, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"Dylan?" she whispered.

He didn't wake up, but his grip didn't loosen. He pulled her hand down, pressing it firmly against his bare chest, right over his heart.

"Wait, let go," she muttered, tugging gently.

He didn't let go. Instead, his thumb began to lightly stroke the back of her hand. His breathing became even deeper, more peaceful. The crease between his brows smoothed out completely.

"You're using me as a pillow," she sighed, looking at his calm face. 

She looked at the door, then at the man holding her hand like it was the only thing keeping him alive. She should call Cain. She should put miles between herself and this bond.

"This is a terrible idea," she whispered.

Instead, she pulled a stool over.

"Just for five minutes," she whispered to the shadows. "Just until he's deep enough in sleep that he won't wake up when I leave."

She sat there in the dark, watching the man who could burn the world find his first night of peace in years. When his thumb stroked her knuckles again, she didn't pull away. She just sat there, wondering if she was saving him, or if she was walking right back into the fire.

Well, who knows?