Chapter 7

~RAGNAR~

“What in the seven hells is this?” Grandma asks, her voice low with shock as she examines the injury on the she-wolf’s back.

This little she-wolf kept her sickness hidden like a stubborn fool. She refused help. She refused food. She refused sense. She has suffered her misery in silence. She looked thin the day I brought her from Moonfang, but she is all bones now. She cannot even keep anything down and has refused to eat for two days straight.

She is now lying on her stomach on our bed, unconscious. Her skin is red and swollen around the wounds. Infection has already dug itself in. The smell of blood and pus fills the air. Those wounds look hideous and deep.

My entire body pulses with pure, white-hot rage at the deception. Left alone, I would have gone to Moonfang tonight and burned that bloody pack to the ground for making a fool out of me. But my primal side, the part that should be howling for war, is strangely calm, overwhelmed by a protective instinct. Leo is focused only on the girl, as if protecting her is more important than satisfying my anger. He wants us to stay until Grandma says she is okay.

I cannot believe this. My hunch that day was right after all. If what Emily—or should I call her Suri—said is the truth, that means they were all acting on that day, even the weeping mother. I am furious at myself for not trusting my instinct enough. For assuming the smell of blood I perceived on her was her menstrual blood. I hardly ever miss details; how did I miss this one? Even though I want to understand this unconscious woman lying on my bed, I am mad at her for keeping this to herself until her body could no longer hold on. My anger at her silence burns hotter than anything I have felt since the day my family died.

I want to roar and gnash my teeth. I want to stomp so hard the earth will shake and rip trees up out of the ground. But I also want her alive. I want to know how her own father ended up abusing her so much. I need to know the exact kind of father he is. I can see other, older scars on her skin, apart from the fresh whip injury.

“Raggy,” Grandma calls, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I hate her nickname for me, but I do not care about it right now. I see the deep worry in her eyes, and my jaw clenches. Grandma is the most optimistic person I know. If she is this worried, then it is bad.

“How bad is it?” I ask.

“Very bad,” she replies, glancing at the she-wolf with true pity. “Poor child. How can a father do this to his own child?”

“We are not sure yet,” I say, instantly putting my King mask back on. “She might be lying, Nana. But that is by the way. What do you mean by ‘very bad?’”

“Her wounds are going septic. We need to heal her as quickly as possible; otherwise, she might not survive this. She does not even have a wolf to speed up her healing process. I will invite the pack doctor to take a look at her, too. We need some blood tests.”

“Do everything in your power to heal her, Nana. I need her alive.” I turn towards the door at the same time it pushes open, and Dray comes in.

His nostrils flare at the poignant smell of blood and pus, which Nana has succeeded in draining from the wound.

“Mother goddess,” Dray mutters, his eyes wide. “Is it that bad?”

“Follow me,” I say, brushing past him.

He follows me without another word. We go into my office, and I begin to pace the floor, trying to burn off the restless energy.

“So Lawrence has two daughters?” Dray asks, lowering himself to a couch in the room.

“Apparently,” I grit out.

Dray shakes his head. “I knew this was a terrible idea. Nothing good comes out of those cunning creatures.”

I stop abruptly and send him a glare. “You are not exactly helping. Do you think I did not know the risk of what I did?”

“I am just concerned, Ragnar. Your decision was so swift and abrupt. I did not think you thought it through.”

“I gave it enough thought, Dray. What better plan than to take his heir, make her bear me a son, and use that son to claim his throne? But it seems Lawrence is determined to give me more reasons to kill him.”

Dray stays silent for a moment, then asks, “What now?”

“What else? I am going to Moonfang first thing tomorrow morning, and I will drag that real heir back to this place.” I press my knuckles into my palm, cracking them loudly.

Dray raises a brow. “And this girl? You will not send her back, will you? For all we know, she might be lying. We cannot start a war based on half a story.”

I stare at my beta. He is right. It annoys me, but he is right. I want to unleash my anger on something or someone. “The goddess help Lawrence if this girl is speaking the truth. I am going to raze down his pack.”

“We will wait for her to recover, then we can interrogate her properly before taking any action. She also needs to be present when you confront that Alpha. If she is truly his daughter, why did no one know about her?”

Dray stands and rests a hand on my shoulder. “We did our research about Moonfang, remember? The last thing we need right now is a war. Let us approach this with caution.”

Dray has always been my voice of reason. But it does not mean I heed all his advice. This one is looking a lot more difficult to follow. I grunt and push past him again.

“I need to run,” I say and walk out.

I take off my clothes, shift into my beast, and run.

***

The next morning, I walk into my bedroom to find Nana and the pack doctor at her bedside. They are talking but immediately stop when I enter. Nana is a healer with limited knowledge of modern medicine, but she helps around the pack as much as the doctor does.

She is the only blood family I have left apart from my uncle Crane, who is my father’s younger brother. I always see my grandmother as my savior and follow her advice because she was the one who saved me on the day Lawrence Thorneclaw murdered my family.

The doctor and Nana are not looking bright at all. That alone makes my stomach twist. I turn to the unconscious girl on the bed and feel my jaw tighten.

“What is the problem?” I ask, my eyes jumping between them.

The pack doctor, Lorenzo, steps forward and bows his head. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

Nothing is fûcking good about the morning. I did not sleep a wink last night. “Get on with it, Lorenzo.”

“I ran the tests as Lady Gene instructed. The queen is down with typhoid fever. It is very high and has been left untreated for a long time.”

My beast, Leo, stirs in pure fury this time, and I am surprised. Leo hardly ever reacts to the women I am with. Lawrence has given me a dying girl? Was his plan truly for her to die in my hands?

“Do everything to keep her alive,” I grit out.

“Also,” Lorenzo adds quickly. “I found something strange in her bloodstream.”

My eyes narrow as my interest spikes. “Elaborate.”

“The queen has a wolf, contrary to what her scent says. But there are traces of aconite extract and fadevine. She has probably been ingesting them for a long time.”

I know both poisons well. Wolfsbane in its pure form kills wolves, but when diluted, it keeps the wolf weak and asleep. Fadevine is an odorless, tasteless mixture that weakens the wolf’s bond to the moon and blocks shifting and muting senses.

The only conclusion is that someone has been keeping her wolf dormant on purpose. But who and why?