The silver light emanating from Justice's hands gradually faded as my mother's breathing steadied. Her color returned, the terrifying blue tint receding from her lips. I slumped against the wall, relief washing over me in waves so powerful my knees nearly buckled.
"She'll be fine now," Justice said softly, his eyes meeting mine with a warmth that made my wolf stir strangely within me. "The silver sage poisoning has been neutralized."
I couldn't stop staring at his hands—hands that had saved my mother when my own mate had ignored my desperate pleas.
"Thank you," I whispered, the words inadequate for what he'd done.
Justice nodded, gathering his supplies with practiced efficiency. "I've given her a sedative to help her rest. The herbs I've administered will flush the toxins from her system completely within hours."
The front door slammed open with such force that it bounced against the wall. Massimo stood in the doorway, his ceremonial robes still billowing around him, the fresh mark on his neck glowing pink against his skin.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Justice. "Why is a Moonridge healer in my territory?"
The scent of lilacs and moonflowers still clung to him—Lilah's scent—making my stomach turn.
"Your mate," Justice replied evenly, "was dying while you were marking another woman."
Massimo's face darkened with fury. "This is a pack matter. You have no right to interfere."
"No right?" My voice cut through the room like ice. "You ignored my calls. You performed a marking ceremony while my mother fought for her life!"
Massimo's eyes flashed to me, then back to Justice. "You violated pack protocol by bringing an outsider here."
"I violated protocol?" I stepped forward, my hands trembling with rage. "You violated our mate bond when you chose her over me—over my dying mother!"
Pack members had begun to gather outside, drawn by the commotion. I could see them through the window, their faces pressed against the glass, witnessing our confrontation.
"Adelaide," Massimo lowered his voice, attempting to sound reasonable. "We can discuss this privately."
"There's nothing to discuss," I replied, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "You made your choice today. You chose Lilah over me—over your duty as a healer."
Justice cleared his throat, stepping between us. "Perhaps we should focus on Margaret's recovery. The silver sage poisoning was quite severe."
"Silence!" Massimo snapped. "You have no place here. Leave Silverpine territory immediately."
I moved to Justice's side, my shoulder brushing his in a show of solidarity that sent a strange current through me.
"He stays," I said firmly. "He saved my mother's life when you couldn't be bothered to answer my calls."
Massimo's eyes widened in shock. No one had ever challenged him so publicly before—especially not his own mate.
"You dare—" he began, but I cut him off.
"I dare because you failed," I said, my voice carrying through the open door to the gathered pack members. "You failed as a healer. You failed as a mate."
Whispers rippled through the crowd outside. I could see Beta Ryan Cross among them, his expression grave as he watched the confrontation unfold.
Hours later, as evening fell, I sat beside my mother's bed. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to recognition.
"Addie," she whispered, her voice weak but steady.
"Mom," I leaned forward, taking her hand. "How do you feel?"
"Better... but strange." She frowned slightly. "This feeling... it reminds me of before."
My heart skipped a beat. "Before?"
"Three years ago," she murmured. "When I nearly died from that treatment. The symptoms feel... similar."
Justice, who had refused to leave until he was certain my mother was stable, exchanged a look with me over her bed.
"Mrs. Pierce," he said gently, "may I ask what you remember about that treatment?"
She closed her eyes, thinking. "Not much. They said it was an omega healer's mistake—someone named Iris. But the symptoms were the same... this burning sensation, the difficulty breathing..."
"Mom," I said carefully, "Iris was just an apprentice. She wouldn't have had access to the rare herbs that caused this reaction."
Justice nodded, confirming my suspicion. "Silver sage is extremely dangerous and requires advanced knowledge to handle safely. An apprentice wouldn't have been authorized to use it."
A chill ran down my spine as I remembered what Justice had told me earlier—that the herb combinations used were far beyond an omega apprentice's expertise.
"Then who..." my mother whispered, her eyes suddenly wide with realization.
I looked at Justice, then back at my mother, the first seeds of suspicion taking root in my mind. Something wasn't right about the official story of what happened three years ago—and somehow, I knew that uncovering the truth would change everything.
The morning after my mother's close call, I stood outside the pack's medical archives, my heart hammering against my ribs. The stone building loomed before me, its windows reflecting the early sunlight like watchful eyes.
"I need access to the healing records from three years ago," I told the clerk at the front desk, trying to keep my voice steady.
The woman—one of Massimo's cousins—raised an eyebrow. "Those records are confidential, Adelaide. You know that."
"I'm not asking to see everyone's files," I replied, leaning forward. "Just my mother's treatment records from when she nearly died."
The clerk's expression hardened. "Those particular records were lost."
"Lost?" I echoed, disbelief coloring my tone.
"Storage accident," she said with a shrug. "Water damage. Many files from that period were destroyed."
I didn't believe her for a second. "When exactly did this accident happen?"
"Shortly after the incident," she replied without missing a beat. "You should know that questioning closed cases shows disrespect for pack authority."
I felt my wolf bristle beneath my skin. "My mother nearly died. Twice now. I think that gives me the right to ask questions."
The clerk's lips thinned to a hard line. "Take it up with Healer Stone if you have concerns."
*Healer Stone*. Not Massimo. Not my mate. The formal title stung like salt in an open wound.
An hour later, I sat across from Beta Ryan Cross in his office, the pack's second-in-command regarding me with cautious eyes.
"Adelaide," he said carefully, "these are serious allegations."
"I'm not making allegations," I countered. "I'm asking questions that need answers."
Ryan sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "I've reviewed what remains of the files. Massimo personally signed off on the investigation that blamed Iris."
My breath caught. "He did what?"
"He conducted the interviews, examined the evidence—or lack thereof—and determined her guilt." Ryan slid a folder across the desk. "His signature appears on multiple documents."
I stared at Massimo's elegant script, the loops and curves of his handwriting as familiar to me as my own. The dates showed he'd accepted Iris's guilt without conducting proper interviews or examining physical evidence.
"This isn't right," I whispered.
"Be careful, Adelaide," Ryan warned, his voice low. "The Stone family has considerable influence."
---
Justice arrived at our home as the afternoon sun began its descent toward the horizon. He carried a leather satchel of herbs and tinctures, his expression serious as he checked my mother's pulse.
"The silver sage is completely out of her system," he announced after a thorough examination. "But there's something else I've noticed."
My mother looked up at him with trust in her eyes—a stark contrast to how she'd regarded Massimo during his infrequent visits.
"What is it?" I asked.
Justice pulled out a small vial of amber liquid. "These symptoms—the chronic fatigue, the recurring respiratory issues—they're consistent with prolonged exposure to certain herb combinations."
"Combinations that could have been used in her treatment three years ago," I finished.
He nodded, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my wolf stir. "Exactly. Some herbs can cause both immediate life-threatening reactions and long-term organ damage."
As he explained his findings, I found myself drawn to his patient manner, the way he carefully adjusted his treatments based on my mother's responses. There was no arrogance in his approach, no assumption of superiority—just genuine concern and remarkable skill.
"Why are you helping us?" I asked him later, as we stood on the porch watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of orange and pink.
Justice's expression softened. "Because it's the right thing to do."
Three simple words that carried more weight than any elaborate explanation could have.
---
The neutral territories between packs were bleak and unforgiving—a no-man's land where rogues and outcasts eked out precarious existences. I followed the faint scent trail I'd picked up from old pack records, my wolf guiding me through the underbrush toward a ramshackle shelter barely visible among the trees.
"Iris?" I called softly, approaching the crude dwelling.
No response.
I tried again, louder this time. "Iris? My name is Adelaide Pierce. I'm not here to harm you."
The makeshift door creaked open just enough for a pair of frightened eyes to peer through the gap.
"Please," a voice quavered. "I've paid for my mistakes. Don't send me back."
"Nobody's sending you anywhere," I assured her, keeping my distance. "I just want to talk."
The door opened wider, revealing a thin woman with hollow cheeks and haunted eyes. Iris—once a promising young healer, now reduced to this.
"I didn't do it," she whispered, her body trembling. "Whatever they said I did—I didn't."
I took a careful step forward, my wolf sensing no threat from the terrified woman before me.
"Tell me what happened," I said gently.
Iris cowered against the doorframe, her eyes darting nervously to the trees surrounding us.
"They'll punish me again," she whimpered. "They'll say I'm lying."
"No one's going to punish you," I promised. "I just need the truth."
Something in my voice must have convinced her, because after a long moment, she stepped back from the door.
"Come in," she whispered. "But please—don't tell them you found me."