Chapter 3: The Golden Search

‎The morning bell of the Bloodwood Clan rang at precisely six o'clock, its harsh metallic clang reverberating through the servants' quarters. Elena bolted upright in her narrow cot, her muscles aching from the midnight sprint back to the pack house. She quickly checked her reflection in a cracked mirror on the wall—her eyes were bloodshot, but her scent was completely masked by the smell of woodsmoke and the stale dishwater she had intentionally rubbed on her apron before sneaking back into bed.

‎Downstairs, the pack kitchen was in complete chaos.

‎"Move it, useless!" the head cook barked, shoving a massive silver tray piled with roasted meats into Elena’s hands. "The Lycan King woke up completely cured this morning! It’s a miracle. Alpha Bloodwood is hosting a grand breakfast to celebrate, and if a single plate is cold, it’s your head!"

‎Elena bowed her head submissively, keeping her heart rate steady as she carried the heavy tray into the grand feast hall.

‎The atmosphere inside the hall was thick with tension and heavy, dominant auras. At the center of the long wooden table sat Alpha King Ethan. Seeing him awake, fully dressed in his royal black uniform, and radiating a terrifying, absolute power was entirely different from seeing him pale and bleeding on her cabin cot. There was no trace of the dying man from last night; his jaw was sharp, his posture commanding, and his physical presence completely filled the room.

‎Beside him sat Alpha Bloodwood, the leader of Elena's pack, wearing an arrogant, wide grin.

‎"I tell you, King Ethan, our pack doctors are the finest in the northern territories," Alpha Bloodwood boasted, leaning back in his chair. "The moment my warriors found you unconscious on the border, I ordered our lead shaman to use our finest secret remedies. We are honored that our pack's resources could save your life."

‎Elena kept her eyes glued to the floor as she approached the table, carefully setting down the platters of food. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the royal guard from last night standing rigidly behind Ethan’s chair. The guard’s eyes flicked to Elena for a brief second, but true to his word, his expression remained completely blank, giving away nothing.

‎King Ethan didn't touch his food. His sharp, calculating eyes swept across the room, completely ignoring Alpha Bloodwood’s bragging.

‎"Your shaman claims he used an infusion of crushed moon-lily roots," Ethan said, his voice a deep, quiet baritone that made every wolf in the room stiffen with instinctual submission. "But the toxin in my blood was engineered Death’s Nightshade. Moon-lily would have accelerated my cardiac arrest, not cured it."

‎Alpha Bloodwood’s smile froze. He cleared his throat nervously, looking toward his lead shaman, who was sweating profusely at the far end of the table. "Ah, well... our shaman uses a proprietary blend, Your Majesty. A mix of traditional mysticism and—"

‎"Enough," Ethan interrupted, slamming his palm lightly on the table. The wood groaned under the pressure. "The person who saved me last night didn't use mysticism. They understood advanced biochemical counter-agents. They knew exactly how to shock a royal Lycan's cellular metabolism."

‎Elena’s hand trembled slightly as she poured wine into a goblet nearby. He remembers the science, she realized, panic tightening her chest. He isn't just looking for a healer; he's looking for a specific mind.

‎Suddenly, Ethan tilted his head back, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep, sharp breath of the air in the hall.

‎His golden eyes flashed with a sudden, predatory intensity. The wolf inside him thrashed, scratching at his senses. Last night, through the haze of the poison, a magnificent, unforgettable scent of fresh rain and sharp mint had anchored him to life. It was a scent that had branded itself straight into his soul. Mate.

‎"Sire?" the royal guard asked, noticing Ethan's sudden alertness.

‎Ethan stood up abruptly, his massive frame towering over the table. The entire room went dead silent. "The scent is faint, but it’s here. The person who saved me is in this pack house."

‎Alpha Bloodwood stood up quickly, eager to please. "Name them, Your Majesty! I will have them brought to you immediately!"

‎"I don't have a name," Ethan growled, his piercing golden gaze scanning the face of every single person in the hall, moving slowly down the line of warriors, then the high-ranking betas, and finally tracking toward the servants crowded near the kitchen doors. "But my wolf knows her scent. Line up everyone in this pack. Every warrior, every child, and every servant. No one leaves this compound until I find her."

‎Elena swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the edge of her empty serving tray. She was standing only a few feet away from him, buried in a crowd of low-ranking Omegas. The daily scent of grease, ash, and old dishwater she had coated herself in was holding up for now, but if Ethan walked down the line and looked her dead in the eye, her heartbeat alone would betray her.

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