How Does 'I Gave Up Treatment Not Them' By Nyx Calder End?

This was the second time I lived this life. I was the last descendant of the serpent-kin. I treated men’s fertility issues and other similar problems. In the previous timeline, my adoptive parents chased me out of the house as a way to appease their true daughter, Cynthia, that they had reunited with. Lester Ward offered me his company’s shares and a luxury mansion to persuade me to marry his grandson. His only condition was for me to cure his barren grandson, Matthew Ward. In the end, I did so, and Matthew married me. However, on our wedding night, he forced me to reveal my serpent-kin guise and show him my tail. Then, he extracted my scales and sold me to a red-light district abroad. Only then was I made aware that he had been having a secret affair with Cynthia this whole time. “You’re just a greedy beastfolk who wants the matriarch position of the Ward family! Cynthia is my true love. I was cured when I slept with her. You waited in my room all this time just to pretend to treat me! Cynthia thought that we were really together and ran off. In the end, she was killed by some fiends! Aren’t you a serpent-kin? Your kind is loose and immoral. Well, you will die here in this den of iniquity!” I closed my eyes and waited for death. However, when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in time at the moment Lester came asking for my help. I waved him off. “Your grandson’s condition is a curse, not a medical affliction. No one can treat him.”

Everyone in the pack knows Marcus has loved me for a decade—that I'm his destined mate. He's devastatingly handsome and brilliant, the youngest and most gifted pack healer we've ever had, with she-wolves practically throwing themselves at his feet. Yet this alpha prince has eyes only for me. But when I was nearly assaulted by a rapist, Marcus signed a settlement agreement on my behalf and issued a psychiatric diagnosis, condemning me to a mental institution. Inside the institution, I was attacked by the truly insane—they tore at my hair with clawed fingers and kicked my stomach until I couldn't breathe. Meanwhile, he held the rapist's sister Victoria close and told me: "Emma, I'll take care of you. I'll compensate you when you get out, but Victoria has severe depression. She can't handle her brother getting in trouble." Even more ridiculous—when I begged him to let me see my suicidal sister one last time, he was honeymooning with that woman in Iceland, hanging up on my eighty-nine calls. The day my sister died, I coughed up blood in that mental hospital. Three years later, he came to get me, saying he still wanted to bring me home as his mate. Looking at his careful demeanor, I suddenly laughed. Marcus, do you know? No matter how high the mental hospital walls are, they can't stop someone who's crawled back from hell for revenge. What you owe me, what you owe my sister—I'll collect it all with interest, using what you care about most.

Elara is not a fighter. She is a healer. Her power is the rarest in the werewolf world. It was meant to protect her Pack and secure her place next to Alpha Kael, her destined mate. However, on the night of their claimed bond, Kael rejected her. He labelled her power a deadly threat. With a brutal and calculated act, he wounded himself with wolfsbane and publicly turned Elara away. She had to choose between saving the man who humiliated her or proving his belief that she was too dangerous to love. She saved him, but that night, the healer inside her died. Banished and broken, Elara sheds the blood-soaked title of healer and retreats into the shadows. She finds an ancient master who teaches her not patience, but poison. Instead of comfort, he shows her retribution. She learns to harness her past pain, using the volatile wolfsbane as her weapon. Five years later, the once-strong Lunar Pack is suffering from a mysterious illness that even their best doctors can't cure. They must look beyond their borders for help. Elara returns with a new name and a clever disguise. She is armed with charm and a dark plan. She is the Pack's only hope, and she will bring about the Alpha's downfall. Her revenge has a careful strategy. The closer she gets to healing his body, the closer she gets to ending his reign. But to destroy the Alpha, she must risk reigniting the very mate bond she vowed to forget.

During a battle with a rival pack, my Alpha mate, Damien, burst into my private healing sanctuary. He was carrying Lyra, a Beta warrior who had supposedly taken a poisoned blade for him. The next day, under the watchful eye of the Moon Goddess, Damien was forced by the pack elders to apologize. He explained that bringing an outsider into my sanctuary was a desperate act in a moment of crisis. After all, Lyra had saved his life. But that night, in the bed we once shared, Lyra stabbed herself with a dagger laced with wolfsbane and framed me for the attack. He chose to believe her. The rejection ceremony ripped my wolf from my soul. I was cast out—a powerless exile, left for dead in a storm, to be torn to shreds by rogues. But what Damien never knew was that the ancient curse afflicting him could only be healed by me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the beginning: the moment Damien carried that woman in, demanding I save her.

The wolfsbane had reached my bones, and I decided to stop treatment. Once, Ethan Anderson, the pack's Alpha, was the only light in my life. He promised we would travel the continent together, chasing the northern lights across frozen plains and exploring ancient ruins. But while I lay dying from wolfsbane poisoning, he took Murphy Blake, my best friend and the person I trusted most, to every place I had dreamed of seeing. My dreams became the story of how they fell in love. I was ready to let go. I wanted only to see the final place on my list. Then the antidote shattered, my ticket was soaked in blood, and Ethan abandoned me alone in the frozen wilderness. My life entered its final countdown. And there, at the edge of death, I discovered a secret that would change the fate of every werewolf. Ten years later, when the wolfsbane curse that had plagued werewolves for a thousand years was finally broken and everyone called me their savior, Ethan finally understood: He hadn't merely lost a mate who loved him. He had lost the one person who once would have spent her last breath waiting for him to turn back. But by then, I no longer needed his love.

Kaelan noticed I hadn't filed a single medical or living expense request in the pack’s resource channel for a week. He must have thought I’d finally kicked my greedy human habits. At dinner, he tossed a black card at me. It cut a cold arc through the air, landing beside my plate. “Your father’s treatment for next month. The wolf gene serum, the lab fees—it’s all approved.” His voice was pure Alpha command. An order, not a suggestion. “Bringing you and your father here was a risk. I fought the Elders for you. You are my mate. Stop begging for pack funds like a common stray. It’s a bad look.” He didn’t know my fingers were ice-cold when I picked up the card. The papers to sever our mate bond were already signed. So was my will. The hoodie I wore when I left was a faded thing he’d tossed at me three years ago. No one would believe it. The fated mate of an Alpha who ran a corporate empire… had to send a photo of a $10 painkiller receipt to a Beta assistant for approval. All because he thought a fragile human like me was a leech who couldn’t be trusted with cash. But a week ago, when my father’s lupus caused his organs to fail, I needed $50,000. He needed a dose of pure gene repair serum, synthesized in the pack’s high-tech med-bay. I begged him on my knees. His childhood friend, Seraphina, just laughed. She froze my request, saying she was helping me break my bad habit of “cashing in on my mate status.” Kaelan never knew I endured that humiliation just so my father could stay alive in his top-tier medical lab. Now, my father was dead. The medicine was cut off, and his ashes were already in the ground. I didn’t need to be his obedient little pet anymore.