The emergency ward buzzed with the usual chaos, stretchers rolling past, monitors beeping, and the low hum of voices layered over the sharp calls of nurses. Sloane moved through it all with practiced calm, her white coat swaying behind her as she charted down vitals.

Jeremy trailed behind her like a little shadow, his small hand clutching the edge of her coat. Eight years old and far too quiet for his age, he followed wherever she went. She didn't mind, his presence had become something she'd grown used to, a steady rhythm in the whirlwind of the hospital.

But then she noticed it.

Near the far corner, an injured man lay on a gurney, surrounded by a wall of black-clad bodyguards. Their presence was a sharp contrast to the sterile hospital scene.

The shadowclaw territory was deep in war like situation. The territory was rich therefore mant packs wanted the share of it.

Sloane frowned. Security details weren't uncommon, but the way they stood, unyielding, tense, made the air feel heavier.

She straightened her shoulders and approached.

"I need to check on him," she said firmly, stepping closer. "I'm the attending doctor."

One of the bodyguards blocked her path instantly, his glare cold enough to burn. "You can't touch our boss." His voice was laced with disdain. "You're not worthy enough."

Before she could react, his hand shoved her back, not hard enough to injure, but enough to humiliate. Sloane's breath hitched, her jaw tightening.

"Hey!" Jeremy burst out, stepping forward with his little fists balled up. But when he tried to shield her, the bodyguard shoved him too. The boy stumbled backward, almost hitting the ground.

That was when the air changed.

A surge of power swept through the ward, invisible yet suffocating. The hairs on the back of Sloane's neck stood on end as a deep, primal energy pressed down on everyone present.

Dominic had entered.

His eyes burned with fury, his Alpha aura unfurling like a storm. The bodyguards faltered, their hands twitching, feet shifting nervously as fear prickled through them. Even the injured man on the gurney seemed to stir under the weight of it.

But before the man could speak, before Sloane could even reach him, the bodyguards dragged him away in a rush, vanishing down the hall with mechanical efficiency.

The tension lingered in the air like smoke after fire.

Sloane turned, her pulse still racing, and found Dominic's gaze locked on hers.

For a heartbeat, the chaos of the ward seemed to fall away. His eyes held hers, dark, intense, carrying the weight of power and something else she couldn't name. She felt it deep in her chest, a pull she hadn't expected.

Jeremy clung to her side, but neither she nor Dominic looked away.

Something had shifted.

Sloane fell into step beside Dominic as the gurney disappeared down the corridor. The silence between them pressed heavier than the Alpha's aura still lingering in the air. Finally, she asked, her voice steady though her chest was tight,

"Do you. know that man?"

Dominic's jaw tightened, his gaze fixed forward. But he didn't answer. His silence was louder than any words.

Sloane's brows furrowed, unease pricking her. She shook it off and pushed open the doors to the emergency room.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense, panic humming beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. The injured man lay pale and sweating on the table, his chest heaving, while several doctors and nurses clustered around him. Their hurried movements carried an undercurrent of fear, not competence.

When their eyes landed on her, the shift was instant.

"You shouldn't be here," one doctor snapped. "Leave at once."

"I'm a doctor," Sloane replied firmly, stepping closer to the bed.

The man groaned low in his throat, his hand curling weakly against the sheet. His aura was volatile, barely contained, as if his very presence burned.

The male nurse nearest to him rounded on Sloane. "Can't you see his anger? You'll only make it worse. Step back before you endanger us all."

Another doctor moved toward her, hand raised to usher her out. "You're too young. Treating him isn't something you can shoulder."

They were seconds away from physically escorting her out when the door slammed open behind them.

Dominic entered.

The room stilled immediately, his presence commanding silence. His gaze cut through the doctors before settling on Sloane. "What's happening here?"

One of the senior physicians spoke quickly, nervously. "Alpha, with respect, letting her near him is a risk. She insists she can treat him, but she isn't experienced enough. This is beyond her capacity."

Dominic's eyes flicked back to Sloane, his expression unreadable. "Are you confident you can treat him?"

Every gaze in the room turned toward her, the weight of skepticism pressing down.

Sloane lifted her chin. "Yes. I am blessed with the Moon Goddess's divine power." Her voice did not waver, even as the room erupted in disbelief.

"That's reckless!" one of the doctors argued. "My Alpha, trusting her is a gamble. If she fails, the consequences"

"Enough." Dominic's tone cut like steel.

He didn't look at them. His eyes never left Sloane's.

The metallic tang of blood clung to the air as Justin Frank lay motionless on the table, his skin pale and clammy, the shallow rise and fall of his chest a battle barely fought. Machines beeped, doctors circled, and desperation thickened like smoke.

Dominic's presence cut through it all like a blade. Then his voice came, deep and commanding.

"Sloane. Start healing him."

Every head snapped toward her, standing near the wall.

One of the senior doctors took a step forward. "Alpha, with respect, this man's injuries are beyond repair. Even with her ability, if she intervenes and fails."

Dominic's gaze fell on him, a weight no one could bear for long. His wolf surged just beneath his skin, invisible yet suffocating. The man faltered, words drying in his throat, and stepped back in silence.

"Now," Dominic ordered again, softer but more dangerous.

Sloane moved, brushing past the others. Their expressions twisted in veiled relief. Let her take the fall, their thoughts whispered silently. Better her reputation ruined than ours. None of them believed Justin could survive.

She laid her palms over his battered chest, her breathing steadying as she sank into the rhythm of both her medical training and the spark of power thrumming in her veins. Her voice murmured instructions, sharp and precise, as if she were conducting a symphony of medicine and magic.

At first, Justin's pulse faltered, each beat weaker than the last. Sweat beaded at her temples, her hands glowing faintly with the warmth of healing energy. The room held its breath. Then suddenly the monitor spiked. His breathing grew stronger. His skin flushed with color. The impossible became reality.

The doctors froze, disbelief etched into every line of their faces. He's alive. She did it.

Dominic's lips curved into a rare smile, pride gleaming in his eyes. Relief washed through Sloane like a tide, her body sagging slightly as the tension drained from her shoulders.

She did it. She knew she could but this, this felt like a dream come true. She was truly talented and now everybody in the room respected her for her talent.

Moments later, outside the emergency room, the heavy doors swung shut behind them. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. Dominic turned to her.

"You saved him," he said quietly. "Thank you."

Sloane's gaze flicked up to meet his, unwavering. "I'll accept your thanks, Alpha Volkov. But I need something in return."

His brows arched, interest sharpening his features. "Name it."

"I need protection," she said, voice firm. "Not only here in this territory. Everywhere. No matter where I am. Is there any expiry date on it?"

Dominic's wolf stirred at the challenge in her tone. He didn't hesitate. "Then you have it. As long as you walk this earth, my protection is yours."

Her shoulders eased, a hint of relief softening her face.

"The deal ends," he added, his eyes locking with hers, "only when you say it does."

The promise still lingered in the air between them when Dominic's expression shifted, unreadable but firm.

"There's one more thing, Miss Sloane," he said. "You'll move back into my villa."

Her brows arched in suspicion, lips parting. So that's why he agreed so quickly, she thought bitterly. She crossed her arms. "Is that the real price for your protection, Alpha? Forcing me under your roof?"

Dominic's gaze softened, the weight of his aura easing just enough to make his next words feel strangely personal. "It's because of Jeremy."

Her irritation faltered. "Jeremy? Is he sick?"

A small smirk tugged at Dominic's lips. "No. He just. likes you. More than you know. And when he's happy, his health improves. He'll get stronger if you're around."

For a long heartbeat she studied him, looking for any hint of manipulation, but found only honesty. She knew something was wrong with Jeremy, and it felt like Dominic did not know what was going on with his nephew. If she agrees she could take care of Jeremy and by the moon goddess wished she could heal him too.

With a sigh, she relented. "Fine. I'll go."

**

That night, she settled into the unfamiliar luxury of his home, though sleep evaded her. The moonlight spilled silver across the polished floors as she drifted through the darkened halls, her curiosity pulling her forward.

Then she froze.

In the living room, Dominic sat hunched on the couch, his usually controlled posture crumbling. His entire face was flushed crimson, veins bulging at his temples and neck, as if his body was rebelling against him. His hands clenched the cushions like claws.

"Dominic!" she cried, rushing forward.

Almost instantly, one of his doctors appeared carrying a small case. The man hurried to Dominic's side, thrusting a handful of pills into his palm. Dominic swallowed them down with a pained growl.

Sloane's voice shook. "What happened to him?"

The doctor spared her a glance, grim but calm. "Alpha is allergic to milk."

Her stomach dropped. Guilt slammed into her chest, cold and merciless. She had offered him the warm glass only hours earlier, trying to bridge the distance between them. "Oh goddess. I. I didn't know."

Dominic's hand shot up, stopping her words. Even now, sweat glistening across his skin, his voice carried command. "Stay away, Miss Sloane."

But she couldn't. Her feet moved before her mind could stop them. She knelt beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, close enough to see the cracks in his mask of control.

"Dominic." she whispered, her hand almost reaching for his.

His chest rose sharply, the tips of his ears burning red. For the first time, the cold, untouchable Alpha looked. flustered. Vulnerable. Her nearness stirred something wild in him, and when his eyes flicked to hers, the intensity there made her breath catch.

Dominic, the man feared by all, was blushing.

Unaware of Dominic's dilemma, Sloane stayed by his side until the angry flush in his face began to fade, until his breathing leveled out into something steadier, less raw. The doctor quietly retreated after handing him water, but lingered in the corner, rigid as stone, clearly praying not to be noticed.

Sloane exhaled, her guilt twisting tight in her chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "If I'd known, I never would've offered it. I should have asked first. I should've known."

Dominic's eyes flicked toward her, the storm in them unreadable.

She pressed on, her voice softer. "So this. this whole mess arose because of me."

The words hung between them. Even the doctor shifted uneasily, plastering himself against the wall as if distance might save him from the Alpha's temper.

The proximity between them still felt dangerous, charged with something she couldn't name. Finally, she forced the question out, her tone betraying both her fear and defiance.

"How. how are you going to make me pay for this?"

The room went still.

Her heart thudded against her ribs, every instinct screaming at her to retreat, but her body wouldn't move. She was too close, close enough to feel the heat of him, close enough to see the faint blush still burning beneath his skin.

But Dominic's lips curved, slow, deliberate, wolfish.

Dominic leaned back against the couch, the sharpness in his gaze softening into something sly. His lips curled, mocking.

"So, it's my fault then?" His voice carried that low, dangerous amusement. "If that helps you sleep better at night, healer, I'll take the blame."

Heat flared across Sloane's cheeks. The way he said it, taunting, almost intimate, sent her pulse racing. Her eyes flickered away, only to catch on the half-buttoned shirt clinging to his broad frame. Muscles flexed beneath tanned skin, his chest rising and falling with every breath. For the first time, she realized just how powerful he looked outside his Alpha aura. Had he always been this. Her blush deepened.

She forced her gaze up. "Alpha Dominic. if something's going on with you, you should tell me."

That snapped something in him. His eyes narrowed, voice hard as steel. "And why would I? You are not my secret keeper, Miss Sloane."

Her chest tightened, but she didn't back down. "Because I can help you."

His jaw flexed. "I don't need your help. You're here for Jeremy. That's all."

Her lips parted, defiance rising in her throat before fear could choke it down. "And what if, because of you, Jeremy gets hurt?"

The air froze.

Dominic's aura slammed into her like a storm, thick with dominance. "Stay in your limits," he growled, his voice edged with warning.

But she lifted her chin, her voice trembling but steady. "Why? Because I touched a nerve?"

His eyes flashed dangerously, his wolf clawing close to the surface. "Careful, Sloane."

She stepped closer, her words sharp as blades. "If you want this. this arrangement to work, then you need to treat me equally. At par with you. Not like some fragile thing you can command."

For a moment, the room crackled with tension, the Alpha and healer locked in a silent war. Dominic's lips parted as if he might say something, something heavy, something real. But instead, he turned his head, muscles tightening with defiance.

"Leave," he ordered.

Her heart pounded, but she didn't waver. She spun on her heel and strode out, the echo of her footsteps a declaration of her strength.

In the silence that followed, the doctor finally exhaled, pressing a hand to his chest. His eyes lingered on the door she had disappeared through.

"What a lady," he muttered under his breath, admiration sparking in his eyes. "To demand respect from an Alpha., her strength."

Dominic didn't reply, though his gaze remained fixed on the doorway, jaw clenched tight, as if the words Sloane had hurled at him had cut deeper than he cared to admit.

**

Back in Blackthorn territory, the manor was quieter than it had ever been. Damon sat slouched in his chair, a half-empty glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers. His eyes burned red from both the alcohol and the exhaustion gnawing at him.

His days had become a monotonous cycle, tending to Caleb's endless needs and drowning the rest of his hours in drink. He used to manage better, though, back when she was there.

Sloane.

Whenever she caught him with a bottle, she would storm in with that sharp tongue of hers, scolding him until the air itself felt heavy with her disapproval. And when the hangover inevitably struck, she'd bring him her secret soup, rich, spiced, somehow washing away the poison faster than any pill ever could.

Now, without her, his stomach twisted with constant sickness. His body felt weaker, and his mind was fraying at the edges. The glass slammed against the table, liquid spilling across the wood as his temper flared.

Her stubbornness grated on him. Why hasn't she come back yet? Whatever fight they had, whatever storm they clashed through, she always returned. Always. She had never stayed away this long.

The phone buzzed. He called his doctor, barking into the receiver. "I need something for this, this damn ache. Give me the prescription."

The man hesitated. "Alpha Damon, the best I can recommend are some mild stabilizers pills that."

"Pills?" Damon's voice roared through the hall. His chair scraped back violently as he shot to his feet, veins pulsing at his temple. "You think I'll swallow that useless garbage? I need her not your damn medicine!"

The call ended with a slam, leaving him pacing the room, chest heaving.

Anxiety coiled inside him, sharp and unrelenting. Why wasn't she back yet? What was keeping her away? The questions clawed at his sanity, each one sharper than the last.

Whatever had happened, whatever storms had raged between them before, Sloane had always come back. Always.

But not this time.

And for the first time in years, Damon felt the icy edge of disbelief sink in.

Damon was still pacing, anger pounding through his veins, when his phone buzzed again. With a snarl, he snatched it up.

"Alpha," the voice on the other end said, hesitant. "I. I sent you something. A video. Thought you should see it."

His gut twisted. "What kind of game are you playing?"

"No game," the man stammered. "Just. look."

The line went dead. Damon's thumb jabbed at the screen, and the video opened.

The footage wasn't crystal clear, but it was enough to punch the breath from his lungs. Sloane, his Luna, in a crowded emergency room, her hands glowing faintly as she leaned over a man's broken body. Justin Frank. Damon remembered the name in passing from reports.

She was stopped once, a bodyguard's hand gripping her arm, but she shook him off with a strength Damon had never seen before. Her eyes were sharp, her movements confident, her presence commanding. She looked. radiant. Powerful. Prettier than ever.

But it wasn't just her.

Damon caught glimpses, just enough to sour his stomach, of another man. Tall. Dark-haired. Watching her with the kind of gaze Damon knew all too well. Protective. Possessive.

His grip tightened on the phone until the case cracked.

She moved on? So fast?

His thoughts spiraled, bitter and sharp. All those words. loving me until death, standing by me no matter what-was it all nonsense? The betrayal tasted like blood in his mouth.

"No," he growled, the sound rumbling low and dangerous. "No, she's still mine. My wife."

The thought of her flirting, even standing so close to another man, sent white-hot rage lancing through him. His control snapped like glass.

His eyes bled into molten gold, his wolf clawing free. A guttural growl ripped from his chest, shaking the walls, echoing through the empty halls of Blackthorn manor. The whiskey glass shattered under his clawed hand, forgotten.

Fury consumed him, wild and untamed. Sloane's face, radiant, smiling for another man, burned into his vision until all he could think of was tearing the world apart to get her back.