Elder Rowan studied her for a long moment after she promised to handle Nathanie herself. At last, his stern expression eased.

“Very well,” he said, folding his hands atop the desk carved from ancient oak. “If Alpha Nathanie raises no objection, the Healing Council will not stand in your way.”

Adriana inclined her head. “Thank you, Elder. I’ll speak to him. He’ll consent.”

She gathered the blood-sealed parchment and stepped out of the council chamber with measured composure.

The moment the heavy doors shut behind her, that composure cracked.

Her confidence had been easy to display in front of the elder. Convincing Nathanie would not be so simple. The full-moon ceremony that would formally bind them as Alpha and Luna was barely a month away. The pack had already begun preparations.

There had been a time when she had counted the days in anticipation.

Now she counted them like a prisoner marking a cell wall.

Just days ago, when she tried to discuss the ceremony, Nathanie had waved the subject aside.

“The territory is overwhelmed with rogue attacks and border disputes,” he had said flatly. “We don’t need a grand mating ritual. We’ll mark the bond quietly before the elders and be done with it. There’s no need for spectacle.”

She had swallowed her disappointment then, telling herself he was simply burdened by responsibility.

Until that same night.

Standing on the balcony outside their chamber, she had paused when she heard his voice drifting from the shadows below.

“Don’t worry, Olivia,” he murmured softly. “There won’t be any ceremony. If I choose not to hold one, no one can compel me.”

The tenderness in his tone had pierced deeper than any blade.

In that instant, she understood.

It wasn’t the pack’s unrest that made him refuse a public bond.

It was Olivia.

The realization left her strangely empty, as though something vital inside her had already been severed.

Their engagement—if it could even be called that—felt like a hollow promise.

Leaving the territory suddenly seemed less like escape and more like mercy.

But would he allow it?

Her thoughts tangled as she crossed the stone courtyard. Distracted, she failed to notice the solid figure stepping into her path.

She collided with a broad chest and stumbled.

A sharp cry escaped her as her ankle twisted painfully. She would have fallen if not for a strong arm circling her waist, pulling her upright.

“What’s going on with you?” Nathanie’s deep voice cut through her haze. “I called your name three times. You didn’t even react.”

Even after years at his side, being held so close still unsettled her. Heat crept into her cheeks as she met his steady gaze. There was no sign on his face that he knew she had just secured approval to leave him behind.

“I was thinking about the infirmary,” she said lightly. “There’s been a lot to handle.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing her answer, but he let it pass. Instead, he crouched in front of her, lifting the hem of her trousers to examine her swollen ankle.

His fingers pressed carefully along the joint.

She hissed at the sting.

Without hesitation, he slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her as though she weighed nothing.

“It’s not minor,” he said. “You’ve strained it badly. You shouldn’t be walking for a few days.”

The courtyard guards glanced their way, and Adriana stiffened.

“Put me down,” she whispered urgently. “People are watching.”

He ignored her protest entirely and smacked her lightly on the hip when she tried to wriggle free. “Stop struggling. You’re injured.”

Despite everything, her wolf reacted to his touch—an instinct she despised.

He had only taken a few strides toward the infirmary when his communication crystal vibrated in his pocket.

He paused, shifting her weight slightly as he answered.

A bright, sugary voice floated from the device.

“Nathanie? Are you at the manor? I think I’m coming down with something. Could you check on me? I feel terrible.”

Olivia.

Adriana didn’t need to see the name etched on the crystal to know.

She watched his expression soften almost immediately, the stern Alpha replaced by something gentler.

A small smile curved his lips.

Adriana lowered her gaze and began counting silently in her head.

One.

Two.

Three.

Before she reached ten, he stopped walking.

Carefully, almost reluctantly, he set her back on her feet.

“There’s an urgent matter,” he said, avoiding her eyes as he steadied her briefly. “Someone at the manor needs me.”

Of course they did.

She forced a faint nod.

“I understand,” she replied evenly.

He hesitated for half a heartbeat, then turned and strode away, already issuing quiet instructions through the crystal.

Adriana remained standing in the courtyard, her ankle throbbing, watching his retreating figure.

The decision she had made in the council chamber no longer felt uncertain.

If she left this territory, there would be nothing here holding her back.

Nathanie had already taken several strides away when he slowed.

For a second, it seemed like he might come back.

Instead, he half-turned, his expression distant. “You’re a healer, Adriana. It’s not that bad. You can treat it yourself, can’t you?”

Not that bad?

Only moments ago, he had insisted it was serious.

Or maybe seriousness depended on who was hurt.

A quiet laugh almost escaped her. In his world, some wolves bled gold. Others barely registered.

The memory that surfaced next made her throat tighten.

Years ago, during one lazy summer evening in the Alpha manor, she had sliced her finger while cutting fruit in the kitchen. It hadn’t even broken skin properly—just a thin red line across her nail.

Nathanie had reacted as if she’d been gravely wounded.

He had lifted her onto the couch, scolded her for being careless, and insisted on cleaning and wrapping the tiny cut himself. He had hovered for the rest of the night, refusing to let her move.

Back then, she had believed that kind of care meant forever.

Now, standing with a swelling ankle and watching him hesitate over whether she was worth the inconvenience, she felt something inside her quietly fracture.

Her eyes stung. She turned her face away before he could see.

As she shifted her weight, her gaze fell on the edge of his coat—one button missing.

The sight dragged her back to another night.

Just a week ago, the Healing Division had hosted a gathering in a neighboring territory. She had drunk more berry wine than she intended. By the time it ended, the roads were nearly empty, and the transport wolves had long since retired for the night.

After waiting in the cold for what felt like hours, she finally used her communication stone.

“Nathanie,” she had said, her words slightly blurred. “I can’t find a ride. Could you come get me?”

On the other end, she could hear him running—his breathing steady, controlled.

Olivia’s laughter drifted faintly in the background.

“I’m out with Olivia,” he had replied briskly. “It’s late, and I can’t let her return alone. Wait a couple of hours. I’ll escort her back first. If you can’t wait, take whatever transport you find and tell me the cost.”

He hadn’t even paused to consider that she had already said there was no transport available.

Olivia’s safety had been immediate.

Adriana’s had been optional.

In the end, she walked.

Twenty kilometers through dim forest paths, her heels blistered and her wolf exhausted.

Headlights eventually cut through the darkness behind her—an expensive black Audi A8 gliding to a halt.

Nathanie stepped out, furious.

“Are you trying to be dramatic?” he snapped. “I circled the spot you mentioned three times. You weren’t there.”

“I waited—I couldn’t—” she began.

He didn’t let her finish. He grabbed her wrist, pulled her into the car, and slammed the door shut hard enough that something metallic scattered across the floor.

Later, she realized one of the buttons from his coat had broken off during his outburst.

From that night onward, she stopped telling herself stories.

She knew where she stood.

Forcing her thoughts back to the present, she looked at him calmly.

“I’m part of the Healing Corps too,” she said gently. “I’ll manage. You should go. Don’t keep… whoever it is… waiting.”

Whatever faint flicker of hesitation he might have had disappeared at her easy tone.

He stepped forward, brushing a quick kiss against her forehead. “Alright. Rest. I’ll come by later.”

The gesture felt routine—automatic.

She nodded just as lightly.

Without another glance, he turned and strode down the corridor toward the manor exit.

Only after he vanished from sight did she lift her head fully. Her fingers moved instinctively to the corners of her eyes, wiping away the dampness before anyone could notice.

She tried to count how many times he had left her mid-conversation for Olivia.

She gave up halfway through.

And Olivia’s sweet, breathy voice earlier? Any trained healer could tell it carried no trace of illness. There had been no weakness in her tone.

Yet Nathanie always responded as though summoned by instinct.

Adriana adjusted her balance and made her way back toward the infirmary wing, her limp pronounced now that the adrenaline had faded.

A few pack members lounging near the entrance spotted her and grinned.

“Well, Luna-to-be,” one of them called teasingly, “you and the Alpha need to save that energy for the full moon. Don’t overdo it during daylight hours.”

Another chimed in, laughter in his voice. “Careful, Adriana. If our Alpha gets exhausted and can’t lead the next border patrol, the elders might hold you responsible.”

She managed a tight smile and raised both hands in mock surrender.

“It’s nothing like that,” she said, lifting her trouser leg slightly to reveal the swelling around her ankle. “I wasn’t watching where I was going and paid for it.”

They chuckled sympathetically, their assumptions unchanged.

Adriana lowered the fabric again and stepped inside her office.

The door closed softly behind her.

In the quiet, she allowed herself one long breath.

Very soon, she told herself, none of this would matter anymore.

By the time Adriana finally sat down and peeled back the fabric around her ankle, the bruising had deepened into an angry shade of purple. The swelling was far worse than before. Walking on it earlier—out of stubbornness more than necessity—had clearly made it deteriorate.

A sharp breath escaped Dr. Donovan, who was reviewing patient charts beside her. “That looks bad,” he muttered, then immediately waved over a passing nurse. “Go inform Alpha Reed. If his future Luna limps around like this and we ignored it, we’ll all hear about it later.”

Adriana’s head snapped up. “No—wait, don’t call him—”

But the nurse had already hurried down the corridor before she could finish.

She exhaled, shoulders sagging. After a brief hesitation, she reached for her communication stone and sent Nathanie a message.

[Someone noticed my ankle and sent a nurse to tell you. I tried to stop them. Please don’t make a fuss over it.]

She stared at the screen afterward, waiting for the faint glow that would signal his reply.

Nothing came.

When the nurse returned several minutes later, her steps were slower this time. She avoided Adriana’s eyes at first.

“Alpha Reed said he’s aware,” she began carefully. “But… Lady Olivia is in his office. They’re talking. He didn’t say he would come.”

The room seemed to grow smaller.

Adriana kept her gaze lowered, focusing on the edge of her desk as though the grain of the wood required intense study.

“He must be occupied,” she said quietly. The words felt like they scraped her throat on the way out.

Her stone vibrated in her palm.

A voice message.

She opened it almost instantly.

Nathanie’s voice came through—steady, composed, distant.

“Got it.”

Two simple words.

No concern. No question. No instruction to rest.

Just acknowledgment.

It felt as though every wolf in the infirmary could hear the emptiness in it.

Before the silence grew too suffocating, the receptionist called out from the front.

“Healer Adriana? A patient is requesting you.”

The excuse came like a lifeline.

“I’m coming,” she replied, rising too quickly and wincing as pain flared through her ankle.

The need to escape the room—escape their sympathetic glances—felt painfully familiar.

The last time she’d wanted to disappear this badly had been during her engagement feast.

That evening had been meant to mark the formal announcement of her union with Nathanie before the pack elders.

He had arrived late.

Hours late.

“Something urgent came up at the infirmary,” he had said, as though she hadn’t spent the entire evening answering polite but pointed questions alone.

For her, it had been a milestone.

For him, an afterthought.

Later, whispers had reached her ears. He had been seen leaving the territory early that afternoon—with a woman.

She hadn’t needed clarification.

She knew.

Now, adjusting her white healer’s coat over her shoulders, she forced herself forward despite the pain.

The rest of the afternoon blurred into duty. Patients came and went. She cleaned wounds, prescribed herbs, issued instructions.

She didn’t allow herself to think.

Only when dusk settled beyond the infirmary windows did she finally sit back.

As she stood, agony shot up her leg, nearly buckling her knees.

She glanced down.

The swelling had worsened, puffed and discolored.

She hadn’t even treated it.

A tired sigh left her lips as she lowered herself back into her chair.

Nathanie had said he would pick her up.

She decided to wait.

The corridors gradually emptied. Voices faded. Night-shift wolves replaced the daytime staff.

Still no sign of him.

No message.

No call.

The silence pressed heavily against her chest.

Finally, she pushed herself upright again, determination overriding sense.

She would go to his office.

She managed only a handful of steps before her ankle throbbed so violently that cold sweat broke across her skin.

She leaned against the wall, breathing shallowly.

This was pointless.

With trembling fingers, she retrieved her communication stone and called him instead.

He answered quickly.

“Yes, Adriana?” His tone was calm—neutral, almost casual.

For a second, she wondered if he truly didn’t remember.

If the promise had meant so little.

She swallowed, pride burning in her throat.

“You told me earlier you’d come for me after your shift,” she said softly. “I’m still here.”