TBL-1 3

Everything felt hazy. In a half-conscious state, Eirene drifted as if she were lost in the middle of a dark ocean. Sometimes she could hear voices; at others, all she could hear was silence. Occasionally, she felt a soft jolt through her body as though someone were carrying her. Then she felt cold air brushing against her face, followed by something warm and flat pressing against her back and lowering her carefully.

A bright white light pierced her eyelids. Eirene winced and slowly raised her hand. But before she could shield her eyes, a sharp pain shot through her wrist. Something thin and metallic—a needle, she thought faintly—had pierced her skin.

Footsteps rushed around her. There were murmurs and quick instructions were exchanged.

The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic. Through her blurred vision, Eirene caught glimpses of people in white uniforms moving briskly under the glare of the overhead lights.

“Watch her blood pressure—it’s dropping.”

“Add more fluids.”

“Her body’s responding. She’s going to make it.”

These words drifted in and out, fading like echoes underwater, before disappearing completely as Eirene’s consciousness slipped away again.

*

When she opened her eyes once more, the room around her felt unfamiliar. Everything was white and clean, but eerily quiet.

The faint scent of fresh flowers mingled with the sterile aroma of medicine. Eirene tried to sit up, but a sharp pain stabbed her side. She gasped softly, biting back a groan, until a calm voice stopped her.

“Don't move too much.”

Eirene quickly turned her head and saw a young woman standing by the bed. Her dark brown hair was tied back neatly, and her eyes were gentle yet sharp. She checked the monitor beside the bed before speaking.

“You were in a car accident,” the woman said evenly. “Your body still needs rest.”

Eirene blinked at her through the haze. “Who are you?”

“I'm Louise Graves,” she replied calmly. “I’m your attending doctor and the royal physician of the palace.”

Eirene frowned faintly. “The Palace?”

The word made Eirene’s heart beat faster.

Eirene turned her head and scanned her surroundings, only then realising how extravagant the room was for an ordinary hospital. It wasn’t just the thick curtains hanging from the high ceiling; the warm light from the wall sconces also glowed softly against the marble floor, casting a gentle shimmer across the room.

Eirene closed her eyes. That shimmer pulled her back to the night of the accident. The memory hit her hard: pouring rain, the sound of impact, and a voice calling out 'Alpha'.

Eirene’s eyes flew open. She gasped. “Alpha.”

Louise looked at her briefly, a faint, knowing smile crossing her lips as if to say that she understood, but chose not to respond. “You're fine now,” she said calmly, changing the subject. “There are some bruises on your arm and shoulder. One of your ribs is slightly fractured, but it's already healing. Our bodies are naturally stronger.”

Eirene gave a small nod. “So… nothing fatal, then?”

“That’s right. You don’t have to worry,” Louise assured her quietly but confidently. “You'll just need a few more days to recover completely.”

Eirene lowered her gaze to the bandages wrapped around her hand and the faint wound on her shoulder. The pain meant little compared to the relief swelling in her chest—the simple gratitude of still being alive. “Thank you,” she murmured softly.

Louise offered a polite smile. “Then please, get some rest,” she said, glancing briefly at the small button by the bedside. “Press this if you need anything.”

She turned to leave, but Eirene stopped her. “Wait.”

Louise paused, her expression softening. “I know,” she replied gently. “You have many questions. But I don’t have the authority to answer them.” Her smile faltered slightly, though her eyes remained warm. “What I can tell you,” she continued, “is that you’re in a safe place.”

Eirene could only give a small nod in response. She watched Louise leave until the door closed firmly behind her.

Silence returned to the room. Eirene rested her head against the pillow, shut her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. “Safe,” she repeated inwardly.

But safe from what?

*

Days passed without Eirene realising it. Morning light filtered gently through the long curtains when Louise returned.

“You look much better,” Louise said with a smile. “Your body has fully recovered.”

Eirene glanced at her hands, which were no longer wrapped in bandages. She smiled faintly. “It seems so. Thank you.”

Louise nodded, clearly pleased. “That means you can be discharged now. One piece of advice: next time, try to be more careful when driving,” she added playfully.

Eirene let out a small, dry laugh. “I'll keep that in mind, Doctor.”

Louise was about to leave when the door opened and a middle-aged woman entered.

“Ruth, you’re just in time,” Louise said. “She's made a full recovery.”

Ruth Mitchell—the watcher of the Velmora Pack—approached Louise and Eirene. Her face was kind, yet it carried an unmistakable air of authority. She turned to Louise and said, “Thank you, Doctor.”

Louise gave a polite nod and left the room. Once the door was securely closed, Ruth shifted her attention back to Eirene.

Ruth smiled gently, but her eyes held an unspoken firmness. “Hello, Eirene.”

“H-hello,” Eirene replied awkwardly, studying the woman before her—the silver hair neatly pinned up, the demeanour graceful and composed. “Who are you?”

“I’m Ruth Mitchell,” she replied warmly. “Watcher of the Velmora Pack.”

Eirene froze for a moment. The word 'watcher' echoed in her mind. “Watcher?” she repeated uncertainly. “Does that mean I really am… in the Palace?”

Ruth gave a slow nod. “Yes. Come with me now. The Alpha wishes to see you.”

“Alpha?” Eirene's lips trembled slightly. Her voice was uneven. “Was it the Alpha who saved me?” Her memory flashed back to that night and the voice calling out through the rain. “Alpha Yoren?”

Ruth only offered a faint smile. “You can ask him yourself later.”

Eirene hesitated, torn between curiosity and unease. In the end, however, she nodded and followed Ruth out of the recovery room.

The moment she stepped into the corridor, she realised how different this place was from any hospital she had ever seen. The hallways were wide and bathed in golden-white light from crystal chandeliers. Their reflections glided across the polished marble floors while classical paintings in regal frames adorned the walls.

A few people passed by—men and women dressed in dark uniforms and walking with quiet discipline. They bowed respectfully to Ruth as they passed, making Eirene feel small amid all the grandeur.

“Ruth,” Eirene called softly after a moment, unable to contain her curiosity. “What is this place, really?”

Ruth glanced over her shoulder, as calm as ever. “This is the medical wing of the Velmora Palace. It’s usually reserved for Palace members or special guests.”

Eirene frowned slightly. “So… does that mean I’m a guest?”

Ruth nodded. “For now, yes.”

They stopped in front of a large lift with gleaming metal walls. When the doors opened, Eirene’s breath caught. It looked nothing like an ordinary lift; it was more like a small room, lined with intricate carvings and with a soft carpet beneath her feet.

A faint classical melody played as the lift ascended. Eirene stared at her reflection in the metallic surface, seeing pale skin and tired eyes, yet also a faint spark of light within them, a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Moments later, the lift came to a stop. The doors slid open and the air changed. It felt warmer and softer here, with a subtle scent of herbs and smoke in the air. The corridor on this floor was quieter and was lined with small lamps set into the dark stone walls. At the far end were two grand doors, which were carved with the emblem of the pack: a pair of entwined wolves in a circle.

Ruth stopped in front of the doors and turned to face her. “Go on,” she said gently. “The Alpha is waiting for you.”

Eirene stared at the door for a long moment. Her heartbeat quickened. “You're not coming with me?”

Ruth shook her head. “Only you were invited.” Then she pushed the heavy door open. Stepping back, she added softly, “Don't be afraid.”

The door opened with a deep, resonant sound. A wave of warm air drifted out from the room beyond.

Eirene stepped inside slowly. The door shut behind her with a dull thud. She flinched and turned around—Ruth was gone.

Silence. Only Eirene remained.

The room was vast, with dark stone walls and tall pillars on either side. A grand crystal chandelier hung from the arched ceiling, scattering warm light across the space. On the right, enormous windows revealed the night sky, with the full moon hanging high above, watching over everything.

The air was warm yet carried a faint scent of metal and burning wood. There was an uneasy tension in the air, something unspoken that made Eirene’s heart beat faster, though she couldn’t explain why.

Eirene stood stiffly at the threshold. Before her, golden candlelight flickered over a long dining table laden with food. At the far end of the table, a man sat with a glass of wine held casually in his right hand. His gaze was fixed on her.

He looked relaxed, but there was something about his straight, composed and commanding posture that made him impossible to underestimate. He was tall, at least a head taller than Eirene, with tousled black hair falling slightly over his brow. His skin glowed faintly silver beneath the candlelight. He had a sharp jawline and a strong chin, and his eyes were cold yet captivating, the colour of stormy silver—they stared into hers as if he could read every secret she tried to hide.

Eirene swallowed hard. Her fingers clenched the hem of the hospital gown she was still wearing, almost without her noticing.

“Sit down,” the man said. His voice was deep and resonant; the kind that seemed to vibrate through your chest. “I hope you'll enjoy tonight's meal.”

Eirene moved cautiously towards the dining table. With each step, the stone floor echoed faintly until she reached the chair prepared for her across from him. She pulled it out carefully and sat down, feeling awkward and unsure where to look: at the plate in front of her, at the elaborate table setting or at the man whose gaze had never once wavered from her?

“Are you…” Eirene began, her voice barely a whisper. “…Alpha Yoren?”

The man straightened his back and slowly set down his wine glass. “Yes,” he replied. “I am Yoren Davenport, Alpha of the Velmora Pack.”

The name echoed inside her head. She had heard it before—every werewolf had. Especially those within Velmora’s territory.

Yoren Davenport was known for his authority and unyielding will. But no story had ever captured what it was truly like to be in his presence—it was like a weight in the air, pressing down on everything around him until breathing itself became an effort.

“Alpha…” Eirene murmured, almost to convince herself that this wasn't a dream. “Yoren.”

A faint smile tugged at Yoren’s lips. His eyes shifted, unreadable yet strangely piercing. They didn’t just look at her; they scanned her, as if mapping every detail, from the strands of her hair to the faint pulse at her throat.

“You seem confused,” Yoren said casually. “That's understandable.”

Eirene parted her lips to speak, but no words came out. Questions swirled inside her—why was she here? Why had he saved her?—but her voice refused to obey.

Eirene could only stare, trying to read Yoren’s expression. Yet she found nothing there, only an unsettling calm.

“Thank you for saving me,” Eirene said at last. “I owe you my life, Alpha.”

Yoren remained silent for a moment before shifting his gaze towards the dining table between them. “I didn't do anything. You don’t need to thank me.”

Eirene frowned. “But you—’

Yoren raised a hand slightly, signalling her to stop. “I didn’t save you out of pity.”

His voice was flat, yet there was something deeper beneath it—a weight, a finality that allowed no argument.

Eirene’s confusion grew. Her heart trembled. “Then why?”

Yoren slowly set his fork down. The faint clink of metal against porcelain echoed softly, making the air itself seem to still. He looked at her again, this time without his calm facade. His gaze was sharp, reflecting the candlelight like two blades of cold silver.

“I won’t sugarcoat it,” Yoren said plainly, his tone carrying an allure that made Eirene’s breath falter. “I want you to be mine, Eirene.”

Eirene froze. Her eyes widened—shock too deep for words blooming within her. She tried to speak, but no sound escaped her lips. She could only stare at Yoren—the man who had saved her life—and see him in a new light.

Time seemed to stop. Eirene could barely breathe. His words shook something within her—not just fear, but something far more dangerous that she couldn't name.

Yoren held her gaze, his face expressionless, yet the intensity in his eyes made the air between them hum. He wasn’t a man who needed to raise his voice to exert authority. Even in silence, the room bent to his will.

Tension crawled through the air. Goosebumps prickled along Eirene’s arms. In her eyes, Yoren was no longer a saviour. His gaze now held something else—a claim that reached deeper than flesh and bone.

For a moment, silence lingered, heavy and unbroken. The night breeze blew in through the tall windows, stirring the curtains and causing the candlelight to flicker. Shadows danced across Yoren’s face, blurring the line between light and darkness and making him seem not just an alpha, but something older, stronger and far more dangerous.

Then, Eirene realised that perhaps her survival that night hadn’t been a coincidence, but the beginning of something much darker—something she couldn’t escape. Ironically, Yoren confirmed her fear with a single sentence:

“I want your blood.”

*