four

Chapter Four — A Healer in Chains

"If you touch her with that vial, I will break your hand."

Kieran’s threat stopped the physician halfway across the room. The man lowered the vial, but his eyes remained fixed on me with the hungry focus of someone who had found a rare specimen.

"I am trying to save you, Alpha."

"Then begin by listening."

The elders exchanged uneasy looks. Cordelia folded her arms, displeased that Kieran had defended me twice in one night. I stood near the door, keeping distance between myself and every person in the chamber. The bond still pulled at my chest, but I refused to let it dictate what I would do.

"I will answer questions," I said. "I will not be cut, drugged, or forced to use a power I do not understand."

One elder scoffed. "You are in no position to set conditions."

"Then you do not need my cooperation."

Kieran studied me, and I saw a faint spark of respect beneath his exhaustion. He turned to the council. "She will be moved to a guarded suite. She will receive food, clean clothes, and access to the physician only with her consent. Anyone who disobeys will answer to me."

"You would reward an assassin?" Cordelia demanded.

"I would prevent a prisoner from dying before we learn why the curse reacted to her."

His answer was practical, not kind. I knew the difference. Still, it was the first time anyone with power had made a rule that protected me.

The suite they gave me had a narrow bed, a washstand, and a window overlooking the inner courtyard. Two guards waited outside. It was more comfortable than the cell, but the lock on the door reminded me that I remained a captive.

I washed the blood from my wrists and opened the leather pouch Gareth had given me. The white fang lay against the silver chain. I held it in my palm and watched a faint glow spread across its surface.

My mother had worn the chain in the few memories I had of her. I remembered her fingers smoothing my hair and a voice telling me that kindness was not weakness. Then she had become sick, and Gareth had sent me away from her room. By morning, she was dead, and I was told never to ask what had happened.

I pressed the fang to my chest. "Who was Silas?" I whispered.

The room answered with silence.

Later, the door opened and Kieran entered alone. He had changed into a dark shirt, but exhaustion shadowed his eyes. The black veins had faded, leaving only a faint mark beneath his collar.

"The physician says the light you produced resembles an old healing sign," he said. "White Wolf magic."

I stiffened. "That is a story for pups."

"Most stories begin with something someone wants forgotten."

He placed a book on the table, keeping his distance. Its pages contained drawings of pale wolves and symbols shaped like crescent moons. One illustration showed a white wolf standing beneath a tree, the same image I had seen during the vision.

My stomach tightened. "Where did you get this?"

"The royal archives. My family sealed the records generations ago."

"Why show it to me?"

"Because the symbol appeared on your skin when you healed me."

I looked down. A faint white mark had appeared at the inside of my wrist, almost invisible until the moonlight touched it. I rubbed it, but it did not fade.

"I do not know what I am," I said.

"Neither do I." He sounded irritated by the admission. "But I know the curse has weakened whenever you touch me."

"And if I refuse to touch you again?"

"Then we find another way."

I searched his face for the trap. "You would let me refuse?"

"I said I would not force you." His jaw tightened. "I cannot promise the council will agree, but they answer to me."

It was the closest thing to an apology I had ever received from a powerful man, and even then it came wrapped in command. I could not trust him. I could, however, remember what he had said.

Before I could answer, a woman swept into the room without knocking. Bianca Reid wore a deep red gown and a diamond at her throat. She looked first at Kieran, then at me, and the smile on her face grew sharp.

"So the rumors are true. You have found yourself a mate in a would-be murderer."

"Bianca," Kieran said, his voice turning cold.

"I came as soon as I heard about the Blood Moon. The council is frightened, the curse is active, and now a Silver Creek Omega has somehow become the center of Night Shadow." Her gaze settled on the mark at my wrist. "How convenient."

"You were not invited into this room," Kieran replied.

"I was once invited into your future." Bianca stepped closer. "Our engagement was meant to secure peace. Do you intend to throw that away because your wolf has developed a sudden fascination?"

Kieran did not answer immediately. That silence told me their history was more complicated than he wanted to admit.

Bianca turned to me. "Do you even know what being his mate means? You will be watched, judged, and blamed for every weakness he shows. If the curse worsens, they will say you caused it. If he survives, they will say you manipulated him."

"I have been blamed for things I did not do my entire life," I said. "You will have to be more original."

Her smile vanished. For a heartbeat, I thought she might strike me, but she only leaned close enough for me to smell her perfume.

"You will wish you had stayed in your little pack."

"I did not choose to come here."

That truth seemed to irritate her more than any insult. She swept out, leaving the door open behind her.

Kieran shut it. "Bianca is politically useful, but she is not my mate."

"You do not owe me an explanation."

"No," he said. "But you deserve to know which fights are yours."

I almost laughed at the word deserve. Before I could answer, a cry came from the corridor. A young guard stumbled into the room, clutching his forearm. Black veins spread from a deep scratch across his skin.

"The curse has reached the sentries," he gasped. "Three of them are down."

Kieran moved toward him, but the guard collapsed. I dropped beside the injured man before anyone could stop me. The wound was dark and swollen, and the same unnatural cold that had filled the dungeon clung to his skin.

"Elara, move back," Kieran ordered.

I placed my hand over the wound anyway.

White light burst from my palm. The black veins shrank, then vanished beneath the guard’s skin. His breathing steadied. A gasp rose from the doorway as the watching servants saw what I had done.

The mark on my wrist brightened until the whole room glowed.

Kieran stared at my hand. The physician hurried forward, no longer pretending to be calm.

"That is impossible," he whispered. "The White Wolf line was wiped out."

From the corridor, Cordelia’s voice answered him.

"Then we have been living with a lie."