Crack in the Armour

ANYA'S POV

My hands were still trembling long after Azkarion had left the gym for an urgent meeting with his captains. Where he had touched me, his warmth lingered on my skin, but the cool air of the room helped me regain a little control. I showered quickly, applied another full dose of the blocker, and dressed in a loose wool sweater and dark trousers.

I needed a moment alone. Just one minute to remember who I was, and why I had walked straight into this den of wolves, risking my life.

I stepped to the window overlooking the forest ravine. The sun was barely managing to pierce the thick mist clinging to the mountainside. Suddenly, the low buzz of my disposable phone — the only human thing I had managed to bring without anyone noticing — cut through the silence.

The name flashing on the screen turned my blood to ice: Central Pack Hospital.

I answered with clumsy fingers, instinctively stepping away from the door as I held it to my ear.

"Hello?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"Anya Sterling?" came a cold, professional tone. "We’re calling from intensive care. Your brother’s condition deteriorated sharply two hours ago. His pressure dropped suddenly, and his body is no longer responding to standard treatment. We need immediate authorization for the special reserve serum."

It felt as if the floor had tilted beneath me, and my breath caught in my throat.

"What… what did you say?" I managed to get out, fighting the tight knot crushing my chest. "We told you the initial payment was secured. Please, don’t withdraw support… he just needs a little more time."

"That treatment costs an additional fifty thousand credits, Miss Sterling," she cut in, without the faintest trace of compassion. "If we do not receive the transfer before midday, we cannot administer it. Regulations prohibit us from issuing priority supplies without funds cleared in advance."

The call ended with a flat beep.

I stood frozen in the middle of the room, clutching the phone to my chest. A wave of utter helplessness crashed over me. Everything I had done — the training, my defiance against Gideon, the mask of cold resolve I had fought so hard to build — crumbled in a single second.

I sank to my knees on the carpet, buried my face in my hands, and wept silently. I had accepted this bargain, traded my freedom… and now I was about to lose him anyway.

"You said you wouldn’t break…" I whispered to myself, voice cracking.

"You are not breaking. You are simply remembering you are human."

I looked up sharply. Azkarion stood in the doorway, half-hidden in shadow.

I wiped my tears away with my sleeve, scrambling to compose myself, but it was too late. He stepped slowly into the room, dressed in his flawless black suit — no trace of the fury from the gym, nor the arrogance of an Alpha. His grey eyes watched me with a strange, quiet calm, deep and almost tender.

"Go away, Azkarion," I pleaded, trying to steady my voice. "I want to be alone."

He did not leave. He walked until he stood a single step away, then knelt slowly, bringing himself level with me and closing the distance that had always lain between us.

"Wolves can smell pain for miles, Anya. And you reek of something tearing you apart," he said gently. "Tell me what happened."

"The hospital…" I murmured, unable to meet his gaze. "My brother got worse. They say they need more money for the serum, or they won’t give it to him. I don’t have it yet. The contract said the rest would be paid upon signing… but the funds haven’t been applied to his file."

Azkarion was quiet for a few seconds. Then he pulled out his phone, tapped quickly at the screen, and held it to his ear, never taking his eyes off me.

"Blackwood here," he said firmly. "Pull up Ethan Sterling’s file at the Central Hospital. Transfer two hundred thousand credits from my personal account to his care fund immediately. And I want the head virologist supervising his case every hour. If that boy suffers so much as one more setback, they will answer to me."

He ended the call and slipped the phone away.

I stared at him in stunned disbelief, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Why… why would you do this?" I asked. "The deal said the second half would be paid only after the Council meeting…"

"The contract is just paper to keep the old guard happy," he replied, holding out his hand but not yet grasping mine. "I do not gamble with the lives of those under my protection. Your brother will not die, Anya. I promised you that the first day — and an Alpha’s word does not break."

I looked at his hand for a moment; it was the only solid thing in all this chaos. I rested my fingers in his palm; he helped me stand gently, but with unshakable certainty.

We stood very close. There was no tension of a fight, no fear — only something far stronger, something that reached right to the soul.

"You didn’t have to do this," I whispered, searching his face for any sign of coldness, but finding only feelings I could not name. "I thought you had no heart."

"For the rest of the world, I don’t," he admitted, drawing a little nearer and brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "But you are not the rest of the world. You are the only one here who does not look at me wondering what I can give you… or how to bring me down."

His touch made me tremble — not with cold.

"We are only partners, Azkarion…" I reminded him, clinging to that thought like a lifeline.

He held my gaze with an intensity that left me speechless.

"Believe what you need to, little liar," he murmured, pressing his forehead softly to mine. "But from this moment on… anyone who makes you cry will learn exactly what it costs to touch the Alpha’s Luna."