Blessed Luna Rising: A Dark Medical Mate-Bond Revenge 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 31 - 챕터 40

The Blessed Luna Wing did its best impression of calm.It mostly worked—if you didn’t look too closely at the security rotation schedules, or the extra line items Lyra had bullied out of Council the day before, or the way every nurse now checked the hallway twice before opening any door that led outside.Lyra saw all of it.She also saw the email pile waiting in her inbox, the consult requests for wolfsbane cases from packs that used to pretend she didn’t exist, and the surgery block she’d had to fight Finance to keep from being chopped into “VIP tours.”She had a headache brewing behind her eyes and a half-warm coffee in her hand when she pushed into the staff lounge.“Thought you were a myth,” Noah said from the corner. “Like shift-change or well-adjusted Alphas.”He sat at the small table by the window, scrub top rumpled, hair damp from a shower, stethoscope tossed beside an open chart. A second coffee cup waited opposite him, steam still curling faintly.Lyra raised a brow. “You’r

Sleep had become a foreign country.Aiden drifted on the borderlands—never deep enough to rest, never awake enough to outrun the things that waited for him when his eyes closed.Tonight, the clinic VIP room was dark except for the pale strip of security light bleeding around the door. Machines hummed softly, monitors looping his vitals in neon graphs he could almost recite by heart. His leg ached with the deep, electric soreness that followed Lyra’s latest session, every nerve humming an afterimage of her hands, her voice.He tried to focus on that: the clean simplicity of pain with purpose.Instead, his mind slid sideways, as if following a groove it knew too well.The past rose up and swallowed him.—He was back in the on-call room three years earlier. The air conditioner rattled uselessly; the small, square space smelled like stale coffee, disinfectant, and her.Lyra straddled his lap on the narrow cot, scrub top rucked up, hair a dark halo around her flushed face. Her pupils were

“And I believed them,” he said. “At first. It’s seductive, you know? The idea that you could prevent bond madness, heat-triggered violence, and forced marks. Do you know how many horror stories cross my desk in a given month? How many Lunas would have lined up for a shot that dulled their mate’s worst impulses?”“Too many,” she said.He lifted his brows. “Exactly. Only… the data started skewing. The compounds they were most interested in weren’t the ones that made things *safer.* They were the ones that made bonds * weaker * Easier to ignore. It's easier to route around.”He tapped the red-highlighted structure.“When I realized my work was going to be weaponized, I walked,” he said. “Took my notes, my prototypes, and every scrap of code I could jam onto a drive. I’ve been on the wrong side of certain Council members ever since.”Lyra believed him. Not because his story was neat—it was—but because the science on the screen fit too well with what she’d been seeing in her patients. In h

It wasn’t just physical chemistry. It was the bond, ugly and half-built, screaming for completion.“You’re spacing,” Rhea murmured at her shoulder during a water break.Lyra blinked, realizing she’d been staring at the line of Aiden’s back for too long without actually seeing it.“I’m fine,” she said.Rhea gave her a sideways look. “Fine like ‘I got four hours of sleep,’ or fine like ‘I’m one stray touch away from doing something deeply unwise with my patient’?”Lyra’s jaw ticked.“Take five,” she called to Aiden instead of answering. “Hydrate.”He lowered himself onto the edge of the mat, right leg extended, left knee bent. He unscrewed his water bottle cap with hands that were still faintly unsteady.“About earlier,” he said once he’d taken a sip. “On the mat.”“No injuries,” she said. “That’s all that matters.”“That’s not all that matters,” he said, watching her over the rim. “I could have taken you down harder. Could’ve twisted wrong. I should’ve—”“You should’ve fallen,” she int

The corridor outside Imaging thrummed with a low, ragged tension.Visitors huddled on plastic chairs, eyes fixed on phones they weren’t really reading. A nurse pushed a portable vitals cart past, the wheels squeaking on scuffed linoleum. Somewhere down the hall, a child cried—sharp, scared sounds that cut under the fluorescent hum.Lyra stepped out of the stairwell into all of it and knew instantly something was wrong.Not wrong, like *we’re out of sutures, or *the board has scheduled a donor tour mid-code.* Wrong like *wolf in the wrong place, wrong time, hackles up.*Scents braided the air: antiseptic, fear-sweat, adrenaline, wolf.Her wolf went alert, and her ears pricked.Mei rounded the corner at a near-run tablet clutched to her chest.“There you are,” she said. “Radiology corridor. Your Alpha is trying to tear a hole on the floor.”Lyra’s stomach dropped a centimeter, then locked.“Aiden?” she asked, already moving.“Wolfsbane case just came up from ER,” Mei said, lengthening h