Chapter 46: Endurance

Hecate POV

The thermal pool was tucked away in the eastern wing of the castle, a cavern of pale stone and rising steam that smelled of minerals and warmth. Torches flickered in iron sconces along the walls, their light reflecting off the water's surface in golden ripples. It was meant to be a place of healing, of relaxation, of peace.

Today, it was anything but.

Odette sat on a submerged stone ledge, the water lapping at her shoulders, her pale arms braced against the edges. Her face was flushed from the heat, her dark hair plastered to her forehead. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the droplets of water that clung to her skin.

"I cannot do this," she said, her voice breaking. "It hurts. It hurts too much."

I knelt beside her in the water, my robes discarded, my hair pinned up to keep it dry. My hands moved over her legs beneath the surface, massaging the atrophied muscles, guiding them through the movements she could not yet perform on her own.

"You can," I said, my voice calm and steady. "You have been doing it. Look how much your knee bent just now. That is progress."

Odette sobbed. "Progress. What good is progress if I will never walk again?"

"You will walk again."

"You do not know that."

"I know that your muscles are responding to the treatment. I know that the dark magic in your body is receding. I know that every day, you grow a little stronger." I pressed my thumbs into the arch of her foot, feeling the tendons loosen beneath my touch. "That is not guesswork. That is fact."

Odette fell silent, her chest heaving, her fingers gripping the edge of the pool. A maid stood at the water's edge, holding a towel and a cup of water, her eyes wide and uncertain.

We continued for another hour.

I guided Odette through a series of exercises, pushing her gently but firmly, celebrating each small victory. A lifted knee. An extended ankle. A moment of balance without the support of her hands. She wept through most of it, but she did not stop. She kept going.

When the session finally ended, the maids helped her out of the pool and into her wheelchair. They wrapped her in warm robes and tucked blankets around her legs. Odette's face was pale, exhausted, but there was something else in her eyes. Something that looked almost like hope.

Then she turned to me.

"You look pleased with yourself," she said, her voice sharp despite her fatigue. "Do you think healing my legs will make him love you?"

I did not answer. I dried my hands on a cloth and began to gather my supplies.

"He will never leave me, you know." Odette's lips curled into a thin smile. "He needs me. The court expects him to have a queen. The packs expect him to have a Luna. You are just a healer. A distraction. A warm body to warm his bed when he is lonely."

I folded the cloth and set it aside. "Is there anything else you need before I go, Your Majesty?"

Odette's smile faltered. She hated when I did not react. Hated when I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.

"You are not the first soother he has taken to bed," she continued, her voice louder now. "And you will not be the last. He used Samantha for her blood. He uses you for your body. That is all you will ever be to him. A tool."

I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder. "I will see you tomorrow for your next session."

"You did not deny it," Odette called after me. "You did not say I was wrong."

I walked out of the thermal pool chamber without looking back.

---

Ysabella was waiting for me in the corridor.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, her jaw tight, her eyes blazing. She had heard. Of course she had heard. The thermal pool chamber had thin walls, and Odette's voice carried.

"How do you endure that woman?" Ysabella hissed, falling into step beside me. "By the Goddess, you must be made of stone. She talks about Maddox as if she did not steal him from you. As if she did not manipulate and scheme and lie to push you out."

I kept walking, my eyes fixed on the corridor ahead. "She is my patient. I am her healer. That is all."

"That is not all and you know it."

I stopped at the junction of two hallways and turned to face her. Ysabella's face was flushed with anger, her hands balled into fists at her sides. She looked ready to storm back to Odette's chambers and give the queen a piece of her mind.

"Ysa," I said quietly. "Thank you. For caring. For being on my side. But I cannot let her see that she affects me. If she knows she can hurt me, she will only try harder."

Ysabella deflated slightly, her shoulders sagging. "I know. I know. It just makes me so angry. You have been through so much, and she has no idea. She has no idea who you really are or what you have sacrificed."

I reached out and touched her arm. "That is the point. She cannot know. No one can."

Not yet, I added silently. Not until the time is right.

Ysabella took a deep breath, composing herself. When she spoke again, her voice was steadier.

"Emrich wants to thank you. For saving Aileen. He asked me to invite you to dinner tonight. At our home. Just the four of us."

I blinked, surprised. "Dinner?"

"A small thing. Nothing formal. Emrich is not one for grand gestures. But he wants to show his gratitude. And I..." She hesitated, her eyes softening. "I want to spend time with you. Away from this place. Away from Odette and the king and all the eyes that are always watching."

I thought of the cottage. Of Tori and Isaac, hidden away at the edge of the village. Of the warmth of the hearth and the smell of baking bread and the simple joy of being somewhere I did not have to wear a mask.

"That sounds lovely," I said, and I meant it.

Ysabella smiled. "Good. Come at sunset. I am finally going to use my ceramic dishes."

I laughed, a real laugh, the first one all day. "I would be honored to eat from your ceramic dishes."

Ysabella squeezed my arm and walked away, disappearing around a corner. I stood in the corridor for a moment, alone with my thoughts, the echo of Odette's words still ringing in my ears.

A tool. A distraction. A warm body.

I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the steady beat of my heart beneath my palm. The mask of Hecate was firmly in place. The dark eyes, the dark hair, the calm unshakeable exterior.

But underneath, Samantha was still there. Still hurting. Still hoping.

Tonight, I would have dinner with friends. Tonight, I would pretend that everything was normal.

But first, I had work to do.