The mechanical voice echoed in Ella's brain, cold and emotionless.

She kept her face perfectly rigid, but her pulse raced. A System? Like in the novels she used to read between surgeries?

She looked down at Daulton. The fierce wolf boy had completely collapsed, his spirit broken by the threat to his brother. Every instinct in Ella's body screamed at her to reach out, to pat his shaking shoulders and tell him it was okay.

She dug her fingernails so hard into her palms that the skin nearly broke. She couldn't.

Kevan shuffled forward on his knees. He reached out with his bleeding fingers, gently catching the hem of Ella's lavish silk nightgown.

"Please, Master," Kevan whispered, his voice cracking. "Forgive him. He is young. Punish me instead."

Ella's eyes dropped to Kevan's hands. The cuts from the bone dagger were deep, slicing straight down to the muscle. In this world, minor wounds healed fast for beastmen, but a cut that deep could easily sever a tendon. Her veterinary instincts flared. She frowned hard.

Daulton saw her frown. He thought she was disgusted by Kevan's blood on her dress. He immediately threw himself in front of Kevan, shielding him with his body, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for her to strike him.

Ella took a slow, deep breath. She channeled the original owner's haughty, impatient tone.

"Get up," she snapped, her voice like cracking ice.

Both men scrambled to their feet, terrified. Daulton's wolf ears drooped flat against his head, all his rebellious fire extinguished.

Ella searched the original owner's memories. Why was Daulton trying to kill her?

The answer hit her like a physical blow to the stomach. Cordaro. Daulton's older brother.

Last night, the original Ella had been bored. She had taken a whip soaked in a flesh-rotting toxin and lashed Cordaro for hours. She had left him chained to the dungeon wall, his wounds heavily infected, slowly dying in agony.

Ella's stomach lurched violently. A wave of intense nausea washed over her. She felt physically sick at the cruelty her body had committed.

She forced the bile back down. She spun around, marching toward the heavy oak door.

"Take me to the dungeon," she ordered coldly.

Daulton's head snapped up. Raw terror flooded his amber eyes. He thought she was going down there to finish Cordaro off, to execute him for the assassination attempt.

Kevan quickly grabbed Daulton's arm, digging his fingers in to keep the boy quiet. He bowed deeply to Ella's back.

"Yes, Master," Kevan said, his voice completely hollow.

The three of them walked down the long, opulent corridors of the estate. The walls were lined with gold-leaf mirrors and expensive magic-beast pelts, but the air felt dead. Torches flickered, casting long, twisted shadows across the marble floors.

As they descended the stone spiral staircase into the underground levels, the temperature plummeted. The air grew damp and heavy.

A thick, metallic stench of old blood mixed with the sweet, sickening smell of rotting flesh hit Ella's nose.

Her steps faltered. The nausea returned, stronger this time.

Kevan, walking slightly behind her, noticed her hesitation. His gray eyes flickered with a tiny, deeply hidden spark of confusion. The old Ella loved this smell. Why was she slowing down?

They reached the end of the corridor. A heavy iron grate blocked the entrance to the last cell.

Daulton's breathing turned ragged. His eyes filled with fresh tears.

In the dim light of a single torch, a massive figure hung from the wall, suspended by thick, rusted iron chains locked around his wrists, the excess heavy links pooling on the damp stone floor below.

It was Cordaro. He was a high-tier wolf warrior, a man who used to command respect. Now, he was covered in blood and filth. His fur was matted into hard, dark clumps.

Ella stepped closer to the iron bars. Even in the bad lighting, she could see the deep, jagged whip marks crisscrossing his broad chest. The edges of the wounds were swollen, leaking thick, yellow pus.

She listened carefully. Cordaro's breathing was shallow, rapid, and wet.

Sepsis. The infection had entered his bloodstream. His body was shutting down.

Daulton couldn't hold it in anymore. He threw himself against the iron bars, letting out a muffled, agonizing whimper.

Kevan leaned against the cold stone wall and closed his eyes. He was waiting for Ella to give the order to throw the body to the wild beasts.

Ella's hands gripped the fabric of her skirt. She squeezed so hard her knuckles turned stark white. She needed the physical pain to keep her face from crumbling into tears.

[Warning, ] the System's voice chimed in her head. [If a bound consort dies, the host will suffer a forced extraction of life force, resulting in agonizing, immediate organ failure. ]

Ella sneered in her mind. I don't need a threat to save a life, you piece of junk.

She spun around on her heel, her eyes locking onto Kevan with a harsh, demanding glare.

Kevan flinched violently, instinctively pulling his bleeding hands against his chest.

"Go fetch a basin of boiling water and clean rags," Ella barked, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Now. I am going in there."

Kevan stared at her, his gray eyes wide with shock. He stumbled backward, then turned and sprinted down the dark corridor, his footsteps echoing wildly.

Ella turned back to the cell. She reached out and pulled a heavy iron ring of keys from a hook on the wall.

She stepped up to the iron grate. She shoved the largest key into the rusted lock. It ground against the metal with a loud, ear-piercing screech that echoed through the dead silence of the dungeon.

Daulton watched her every move. His muscles were coiled tight. A low, warning growl rumbled in his throat, but he didn't dare step forward to stop her.

Ella pushed the heavy iron door open.

The stench of necrotic tissue hit her like a physical wall. She gagged, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth.

What the hell, she cursed internally. She forced herself to breathe through her mouth, treating this exactly like walking into the worst, most neglected animal hoarding case back in New York. She locked her emotions away and let her clinical training take over.

She walked straight up to Cordaro.

He was a massive man, easily over six-foot-three, built with thick, dense muscle meant for hunting giant monsters. Now, he looked fragile.

Sensing someone approaching, Cordaro's survival instincts flared. He was half-unconscious, but his lips curled back, exposing sharp, terrifying canine teeth. A weak, rattling snarl tore from his throat.

His eyes were glazed over, unfocused and cloudy, but they still burned with a stubborn refusal to die.

Ella ignored his warning. She didn't hesitate. She crouched down and reached her hand straight toward his rotting chest.

"No!" Daulton gasped from the doorway, terrified she was going to dig her nails into his brother's open wounds.

But Ella's hand stopped an inch above the ruined flesh. She didn't touch him. She just hovered her palm there, feeling the heat radiating off his skin.

It was like holding her hand over a lit stove. His fever was dangerously high.

Her veterinary instincts processed the data instantly. The toxin had bypassed his muscular tissue and invaded the lymphatic system. This wasn't a surface infection anymore. His organs were cooking from the inside out.

Cordaro felt the slight shift in air currents from her hand. His body violently convulsed in pain. The heavy iron chains rattled loudly against the stone wall.

Ella looked up at his face. His deep, charcoal-gray wolf ears were plastered flat against his skull, a universal animal sign of extreme distress and submission to pain.

A fierce wave of protectiveness surged in Ella's chest.

Without thinking, she softened her posture. She leaned in slightly, and she whispered under her breath, uttering a strange, melodic string of syllables he had never heard before.

"You poor, big guy."

The words were barely a breath, but Cordaro was a wolf beastman. His hearing was infinitely sharper than a human's.

Even through the thick fog of his fever, his ears twitched. He caught the sound. It was a tone of pure, unfiltered pity. It was a sound that the cruel, sadistic Ella Ortiz had never made in her entire life.

Cordaro's thick eyelashes fluttered. He fought against the heavy weight of his eyelids, trying desperately to focus on the face of the woman crouching in front of him.

Before he could clear his vision, the darkness dragged him back under. His head slumped forward.

Footsteps slapped against the stone floor outside. Kevan rushed back into the cell, carrying a wooden basin filled with steaming hot water.

He stopped dead in his tracks. He saw Ella crouching near Cordaro. She wasn't holding a whip. She wasn't pressing salt into his wounds. She was just looking at him.

The sheer confusion on Kevan's face was obvious.

Ella heard Kevan's ragged breathing. She instantly wiped the pity off her face, replacing it with a mask of deep disgust.

She stood up abruptly. She snatched the basin from Kevan's hands and deliberately slammed it down onto the stone floor.

Water splashed everywhere, hissing as it hit the cold rock.

A splash of scalding water hit Daulton's boots. He jumped back, his amber eyes flaring with renewed hostility.

"Clean the filthy blood off his chest," Ella ordered Kevan, her voice dripping with contempt. "And do it fast. The smell is making me sick."

Kevan didn't dare disobey. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the searing pain in his own sliced hands. He dipped a rag into the hot water and began to carefully, agonizingly wipe away the crusted blood around Cordaro's wounds.

Ella stood a few feet away, her arms crossed. Her eyes were locked on the texture of the wounds, her brain calculating the massive dose of broad-spectrum antibiotics he would need to survive this.

Hot water wasn't going to do a damn thing. This world didn't have IV drips or modern medicine. She had to rely on that stupid System.

She screamed in her mind. Lex Cantor! How do I get medicine for this?

[Host must accumulate Animosity Points to purchase the High-Tier Healing Serum from the System Shop, ] the cold voice replied.

Ella ground her teeth together. She looked at Daulton and Kevan. They were terrified of her, but they didn't hate her enough right now. She needed points, fast.

She suddenly lashed out, kicking the wooden basin with her heavy leather boot.

It flipped over with a loud crash, spilling the remaining hot water across the floor.

"You are too slow!" Ella screamed at Kevan.

The wooden basin clattered violently across the stone floor, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the cramped cell.

Kevan flinched so hard he nearly fell over. He yanked his hands back, his face draining of all color until he looked like a corpse.

Daulton didn't hesitate. He threw himself into the cell, placing his body squarely between Ella and his brother. He bared his teeth, a vicious, desperate snarl ripping from his throat.

Ella looked at the fiercely protective wolf boy. Internally, she wanted to praise him for his bravery. Externally, she curled her lip in an ugly sneer.

She lifted her foot and used the tip of her expensive leather boot to kick a dirty, blood-soaked rag toward Daulton.

"Look at you," she mocked, her voice laced with poison. "A pathetic stray dog barking at its master."

[Ding. Animosity Points from Daulton +50. Fear Points from Kevan +30. ]

Ella let out a tiny, hidden sigh of relief. The points were rolling in. But a quick glance at the transparent blue System interface floating in her vision told her it wasn't nearly enough for the serum.

She had to push harder.

She lunged forward, grabbing Kevan by the collar of his ragged shirt. She hauled him halfway to his feet.

Kevan didn't fight back. He just squeezed his eyes shut, his body going completely limp as he waited for her to slap him or pull out a dagger.

The pain didn't come.

Instead, Ella leaned in close, her voice a harsh, demanding hiss.

She frantically sifted through the original Ella's chaotic memories, searching for anything related to local trauma medicine. Two names surfaced in the dark corners of the tyrant's mind.

"Go to the greenhouse behind the estate. Bring me five-year-old Blood-Stop weed and the roots of the White Fresh plant. Now."

Kevan's eyes snapped open. His pale gray irises dilated in pure shock.

Those weren't torture devices. Those were incredibly rare, highly potent medicinal herbs used to treat severe trauma.

Daulton's growl died in his throat. He stared at Ella, his mouth slightly open, a pathetic, confused whining sound escaping his lips.

Ella saw their brains short-circuiting. If they realized she was trying to save Cordaro out of kindness, the Animosity Points would stop. She needed a cover story.

She shoved Kevan backward, wiping her hands on her dress as if he had infected her with a disease.

"Don't look at me like that, you idiot," Ella spat. "Cordaro is a useful tool. I haven't finished breaking him yet. If he dies now, it's a waste of my investment."

The sheer, callous objectification in her words hit the men like a physical blow. To her, Cordaro wasn't a living being; he was a toy she wasn't done playing with.

A fresh wave of revulsion washed over Daulton's face.

[Ding. Animosity Points +100. ]

Ella mentally patted herself on the back for her Oscar-worthy performance.

"Move!" she screamed at Kevan.

Kevan scrambled to his feet. He didn't care that the deep cuts on his palms had torn open again, dripping fresh blood onto the floor. He bolted out of the cell, sprinting toward the greenhouse.

The cell fell into a suffocating, tense silence. It was just Ella and Daulton now.

Ella began to pace the small space, pretending to be impatient and annoyed. In reality, her eyes never left Cordaro's chest. She was watching his respiratory rate. It was getting shallower. He didn't have much time.

Daulton's eyes tracked her every movement. He was hyper-vigilant, trying to figure out what twisted game she was playing.

He noticed something strange. Ella was pacing, complaining about the smell, but she hadn't once reached for the rusted whips or branding irons hanging on the wall. That was completely out of character.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Kevan came sprinting back. He was gasping for air, his chest heaving. Clutched tightly to his chest was a massive bundle of fresh, dirt-covered herbs.

He dropped to his knees and held the herbs up over his head, offering them to Ella. His wrists shook violently from the pain and exhaustion.

Ella snatched the bundle from his hands. She pulled so hard it jerked Kevan forward, making him suck in a sharp breath of pain.

She didn't even look at them. She walked over to a small, flat stone table in the corner of the cell. She grabbed a heavy, smooth rock and began to smash the herbs.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

She crushed the stems and leaves with brutal force. A thick, pungent, intensely bitter smell filled the damp air of the dungeon.

Daulton and Kevan exchanged a look of utter bewilderment.

The cruelest woman in the valley, a matriarch who wouldn't even dirty her hands to eat, was currently grinding herbs with a rock to make a poultice for a consort she had nearly beaten to death.

Just as the herbs turned into a thick, green paste, a bright golden button illuminated on the System panel in Ella's vision.

[Sufficient points reached. High-Tier Healing Serum available for purchase. ]