Chapter 4

“You're sure?” Doctor Richard's voice carried disbelief; his brow knitted hard. “The fragments have to come out, yes—but the silver residue deep in your gland, and the nerve damage along the spine… if we don't debride thoroughly, the consequences could be severe. It could even affect your mobility in the future.”

I nodded, so faintly it was almost invisible.

“…Don't treat it.”

“Please.”

I had to keep those silver scars. They were proof that the “killing-the-wolf” ritual had been completed—the starting point for ripping all of this open. If I healed completely, the wolf Alpha elders would insist the process wasn't finished, and Lucian could still use whatever remained of the bond to drag me back.

Seeing my insistence, the doctor fell silent for a few seconds. In the end, he agreed.

With that promise, the willpower I'd been forcing upright finally loosened—and darkness swallowed me whole.

But pain didn't let me go.

No anesthesia. The cold of tweezers probing deep into the gland to clamp out silver grit; the searing burn of spinal nerves corroded by silver toxin—everything was brutally clear. I bit through my lip. My body spasmed and trembled against my will, yet I crushed any whimper in my throat, refusing to let a single wolfish cry escape.

When I woke again, I was alone in the hospital room. My body felt like it had been taken apart and rebuilt. Everything screamed with pain—especially my nape and spine.

A nurse sat nearby. When she saw I was awake, she spoke softly. “Miss, you're awake? How do you feel?”

My throat was too dry to make sound.

She kindly handed me a cup and fed me through a straw. After a few sips, she explained, “All the glass fragments have been removed, and the wounds have been stitched. But…” She hesitated and glanced toward my nape. “Doctor Richard followed your request—he didn't treat the silver toxin corrosion in your gland. He only cleaned the surface blood and placed sterile gauze to prevent secondary infection.”

I nodded slightly. I understood.

Confusion flickered across her face. “But… the gland is the most important organ for an Omega. With silver damage this severe, if you don't undergo purification treatment, it will completely necrose. In the future… you won't just be unable to be marked—your basic Omega pheromones will gradually fade. Are you really not going to reconsider?”

“I know.” I stared at the ceiling, unfocused, my voice light as a sigh. “But I have to leave.”

The nurse froze, then only sighed and left the room.

But before the door could close, a familiar voice—carrying Alpha pressure—came from outside.

“Who's leaving?”

Lucian walked in.

He asked again, sharp eyes locking on my face, his golden pupils contracting slightly.

“Who were you saying was leaving?”

My heart skipped. But my face held to a dead calm. The mental bond had been eroded to the faintest thread by silver toxin—he shouldn't be able to sense the truth of my emotions.

“I was just asking the nurse to leave.”

Lucian studied me, suspicion in his eyes. But my pale, expressionless face seemed to blunt it. He didn't pursue it, stepping to the bedside instead.

“At the time it was chaos. I didn't notice you,” he said, with no real apology—more like a statement of fact.

He continued, as if prompted by what the nurse said: “Your gland is injured. Cooperate with treatment—don't be stubborn. Wolves heal fast, but silver toxin needs special medicine.”

At the mention of my gland, my fingers curled faintly.

“Alright.”

“You'll stay in the hospital for now,” he decided in the tone of an order. “I'll come see you every day.”

I knew once he decided something, no one could shake it. I said nothing more.

Over the next several days, he did come, as he said he would. Sometimes he sat for a few minutes. Sometimes he only stood at the door and looked in. He had his men deliver expensive supplements, or irrelevant magazines.

But every time—whenever Selene's exclusive mental-link fluctuations came through—his voice would soften instantly when he answered, and without the slightest hesitation he would turn and leave.

That afternoon, silver toxin pain flared in waves through my gland, dragging me out of shallow sleep. The room was empty. I was unbearably thirsty. I forced myself out of bed, trying to get a cup of iced water to dull the pain.

Every step was difficult.

Then, as I passed the stairwell safety door, I heard a familiar voice.

“…Didn't we agree we'd keep our distance in the tribe?” It was Lucian.

My feet nailed to the floor. My blood seemed to turn cold all at once.

His tone carried a kind of pleasure I'd never heard before. “Why did you suddenly run to the hospital? And send a link saying your chest hurts?”

Selene was pressed against the white stairwell wall, icy and clean. Lucian's tall frame caged her in.

“I didn't stalk you,” Selene's voice was lower—sticky-sweet, deliberately aggrieved. “I just remembered what happened at the forbidden forest and got scared. I couldn't sleep, so I came to get some sleeping pills…”

But her cheeks were rosy, healthy. Her body radiated that sweet, enticing Omega scent—nothing like someone “unwell.”

“Still stubborn.” Lucian chuckled. The sound slid into my ears like fine needles.

Then he lowered his head.

He kissed her.

Not a kiss that might contain force, but one that was deep, lingering, filled with possession and heat. Alpha dominance and Omega sweetness tangled in the air in a nauseating harmony.

Selene pushed weakly at first. Soon her arms looped around his neck.

They kissed until they could barely breathe, wet sounds and stifled gasps leaking through the crack of the door.

“My little moon…” In a sigh, Lucian murmured—and I caught it perfectly.

Little moon.

In that instant, I remembered the moonlit gorge he once took me to, calling it a “compensation” and a “gift for a fated mate”—and the field of moonlight flowers that only bloomed on full-moon nights, glowing a faint blue. I remembered him gazing at that sea of flowers and saying softly, “Moonlight flowers bloom only for you.”

Back then, I'd been so shaken by his rare romance that I overlooked one thing—

Why moonlight flowers?

Now, the answer lay naked in front of me.

I braced against the wall, used every ounce of strength, and inched back to my room. Each step felt like silver toxin was being injected again, burning through my nerves.

Back in the room, I picked up the communication crystal on the bedside table and connected to the estate steward.

“Steward, remove all the moonlight flowers in the gorge. Every single one.”

On the other side, he froze, clearly shocked. “All of them? But those flowers were planted by Lord Lucian himself—”

“Yes.” I cut him off, leaving no room to argue. “Then contact the border guards in the human world. Prepare my pass.”

A few seconds of silence—then: “…Yes, miss.”

I ended the link. Almost immediately, a faint mental fluctuation—malicious—brushed against me. It was Selene's lingering mental residue. And that tone was all too familiar.

You saw us just now, didn't you?

I don't understand how you can still act like nothing happened. If it were me, I'd be too ashamed to show my face.

I could even picture the victor's smile on her face as she sent it.

With the last thread of my mental strength, I severed that weak connection and replied with four icy words: