Desperate plan

Julie's POV

I barely slept.

The healer’s wing bed was comfortable enough, but my mind refused to be quiet.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the ballroom lights spinning, felt the humiliating collapse, and heard Raynard’s irritated mutter: What the hell is wrong with her?

By the time dawn came, I was already wide awake. Dr. Mara Voss returned with fresh coffee and a stack of blank medical forms. She looked as exhausted as I felt, her silver-streaked hair pulled into a tight bun and dark circles shadowing her sharp eyes.

“Julie,” she said softly, closing the door behind her. “We need to talk before the alpha returns.”

I pushed myself up against the pillows, my body still weak but my wolf stirring with faint, desperate hope. “You said weeks. How many, exactly?”

Mara sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “If we do nothing… three, maybe four weeks before your wolf slips into full dormancy. After that, shifting becomes impossible and healing slows. Eventually, the bond sickness will take your life. But there is a way to stop it.”

She paused, searching my face. “The only thing that can stabilize you is the full mating bond with your alpha. Repeated, intimate and unprotected. His knot, his seed, the chemical and spiritual exchange that only a true mate can provide. Your body is starving for it, Julie. Your wolf knows it even if he doesn’t.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. I felt so ashamed of myself.

Three years of sleeping alone while Raynard satisfied himself elsewhere, and now the solution was… this? The very thing he had denied me since the day we were bound.

“I can’t just ask him,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “He barely tolerates sharing a dance with me. He still mourns Elena. He swore he’d never risk another pregnancy after what happened to her.”

Mara’s expression softened with sympathy, but her voice stayed firm. “That’s why we can’t tell him the full truth. If he knows it’s solely about the mating bond, he’ll refuse on principle. He’ll see it as another chain, another reminder of his guilt. We need to give him a reason he can’t ignore. A medical emergency.”

She pulled out the blank forms and a tablet, her fingers flying across the screen as she began typing. “We’ll call it Lunar Atrophy. A rare, progressive condition where the wolf’s connection to the mate bond deteriorates rapidly and if nothing is done about it, it leads to death. The only proven treatment is frequent, unprotected intercourse with the bonded alpha. I’ll fabricate the studies, the test results, everything. We’ll say you have two months; sixty days—before it becomes irreversible and you die.”

My stomach twisted. “You want me to lie to him?”

“Lie to save your life,” Mara corrected gently. “And perhaps… to save whatever is left of your marriage. I’ve watched you waste away in this house, Julie. You’re not just losing your wolf. You’re losing yourself. This gives you a chance to reach him, to make him see you, I mean really see you for who you are.” 

I stared at the tablet as she worked, forging charts with alarming efficiency. Graphs showing declining wolf vitality, projected timelines and recommended “treatment schedule”: at least three to four times per week, escalating if symptoms worsened. Unprotected. No barriers. No pulling away.

Morality warred with raw, aching need inside me. Lying to Raynard felt wrong, he already carried enough guilt about his late wife’s death. But the alternative was watching my wolf fade to nothing while he continued to treat me like furniture. And beneath the guilt, a treacherous spark of hope flickered to life.

Two months. Two months of having him in my bed. Two months of his hands on me, his body against mine, his scent surrounding me. Even if it started as a medical necessity, maybe… maybe I could make him feel something real. Maybe I could finally stop being invisible.

I swallowed hard. “He’ll be furious if he ever finds out.”

“Then make sure he doesn’t,” Mara said, printing the falsified reports. She handed me the stack, her eyes steady. “Use this time wisely, Luna. Seduce him slowly. Let him believe he’s saving you. And when your wolf strengthens, perhaps the bond will grow strong enough that the truth won’t break it.”

My hands trembled as I took the papers. Fear, shame, and that dangerous, secret longing twisted together in my chest. But my wolf gave a weak, grateful throb, as if already sensing the possibility of survival.

“Alright,” I whispered. “We’ll do it.”

Mara squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll support you every step of the way. Now… the alpha is waiting outside. He demanded an update first thing this morning. You should be the one to tell him, alone. Frame it as your condition, your vulnerability. It might crack that wall he’s built around himself.”

She helped me into a simple robe and guided me to the small consultation room attached to the suite. My legs still felt unsteady, but determination steadied me now. Mara slipped out through a side door, leaving me alone with the forged documents clutched to my chest.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself.

Moon goddess, please help me.

I prayed silently. If I ever needed help; it was now.

The door to the main hallway opened and Raynard stepped inside, towering and imposing even in casual morning attire—a dark shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and jeans hugging his powerful thighs. His steel-gray eyes locked on me immediately, sharp with impatience and that ever-present irritation.

“Well?” he demanded, his voice rough. “What did Mara find? And why the hell did she insist you deliver the news yourself?”

My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it. This was it. The beginning of the lie that could either save me… or destroy whatever fragile thread still connected us.

I met his gaze, forcing my voice to stay steady despite the storm inside me.

“Raynard… I’m dying. The doctor says I have only two months to live. And the only way I can survive the next two months is if you sleep with me. Frequently and unprotected. Doctor’s orders.”