Chapter 4

A brutal, blunt pain dragged me into darkness.

When I woke, my right leg was locked in heavy plaster, suspended in the air. Swollen, dull pain pulsed again and again—reminding me of the chandelier’s final “gift.”

I turned my neck slowly and noticed a small bundle of dark cotton paper on the bedside table, faintly carrying the scent of fresh soil.

I frowned. Shifting with difficulty, I reached out—my fingertips had barely touched the rough paper when low voices drifted in from the corridor outside.

“…Never thought an engagement banquet would end like this.”

“The Alpha reacted so fast. Even in that kind of situation he protected Luna immediately…”

Two nurses. Their voices carried excited aftershocks, like they were trading a legend.

“He carried her in the whole way. His face was awful. He wouldn’t leave her side.”

“And Luna really is…” Another voice, full of admiration. “She was barely hurt and still insisted the checks go to other wounded first—said they needed it more.”

“Yeah. So kind. No wonder the Alpha…”

Their voices faded.

I stared at the ceiling. The corner of my mouth tugged, but no sound came out.

Wouldn’t leave. Stayed with her.

Every word was a fine needle, striking the numb ends of my nerves with perfect accuracy.

Of course.

Abbott would stay with the Luna he’d chosen.

And me—

I was only Savvy.

Half-blood. Shadow. The last place in every line. Save me or not, it wouldn’t change the order of things.

—Because from the beginning, I was never inside Abbott’s choices.

The door eased open.

I expected a doctor or nurse, but the scent arrived first—Roberta’s. She had carefully restrained her wolfish sharpness, making herself seem gentle, harmless.

I turned my face toward her.

“Savvy,” she came closer, voice soft as if afraid to disturb something. “I heard you were badly hurt. I came to see you.”

I didn’t speak. I watched her move.

She didn’t mind. She stopped by my bed, and her eyes dropped to the herb bundle. “Oh? Who brought you Starwatch Herb? That’s rare—an excellent painkiller. Perfect. I’ll brew it for you.”

She unwrapped the cotton paper. Inside were several strange plants: leaves a silvery gray with tiny serrations at the edges, stems threaded with dark red veins.

“No,” I said, my voice hoarse with dryness. “The healer handled it.”

Roberta seemed not to expect refusal. She frowned slightly. “Savvy, don’t be stubborn. If Abbott had had time to—” She paused deliberately, underlining that ridiculous “favoritism,” without a trace of real apology. “This is a small thing, at least. Consider it a gesture.”

“I said, no.” I repeated it, flat and level.

But she acted as if she hadn’t heard.

“All right. Let me brew it.”

Roberta took the herbs and tossed them into the white sink used for cleaning medical instruments. “Fresh is best. You’re seriously hurt—don’t be stubborn.”

Her back was to me, her voice still gentle.

Then, in the next second, an odd fragrance spread fast.

It wasn’t clean, green herbal scent. It was sickly sweet—head-spinning—shot through with the cold taste of rusted metal.

The scent thickened instantly, stabbing at the nose. My temples pounded. My lungs burned, as if something were crushing them from the inside.

Wrong. This wasn’t a normal painkiller.

I tried to stop her. “Wait—this smell…”

I didn’t get the words out before heavy footsteps sounded at the door.

Abbott’s tall figure filled the doorway, brows knotted, as if he’d come to deal with an annoyance.

“Savvy, you—”

His voice cut off abruptly. In an instant, his pupils contracted, gaze locked on the sink.

“Roberta!”

I looked over—only then did I see Roberta had gone deathly pale, cold sweat beading at her temples. Her body sagged sideways, leaning against the metal instrument rack with a loud clang.

“Roberta!” Abbott’s face changed. He crossed the room in a single stride and caught her.

Roberta let herself fold into him, pressing her forehead to his chest, trembling, breathing in short, pained bursts.

“Abbott… I suddenly… feel awful…” her voice was thin as a thread. “…Savvy asked me to wash the herbs for her… but I don’t know why…”

At that moment, the older doctor who’d followed rushed to the sink. He took one look at the herbs soaking in water, reeking of that unnatural perfume, and cried out—

“Moon-Sacrifice Herb?! This is Moon-Sacrifice Herb! Who put this in water?!”

He spun toward Abbott, his voice sharp with fear.

“Alpha—Moon-Sacrifice Herb’s scent is highly toxic to wolves. It corrodes the bloodline, causes excruciating pain and power instability! Especially for a pregnant body!”

The air in the room froze solid.

Abbott’s arm around Roberta went rigid.

Slowly—so slowly—he lowered his eyes to the woman in his arms, her face white, brows pinched as if in agony. Then he lifted his head.

His gaze crossed the panicked doctor and landed on me in the bed.

He didn’t speak.

But the look in his eyes said everything.

“It wasn’t me…” I fought to explain. Ignoring the spear of pain in my leg, I slid off the bed. “Those herbs were—”

My words died in my throat.

Abbott moved like lightning. He surged to the bedside, his wolf form nearly tearing through his clothes, nothing in his eyes but violent fury.

I couldn’t speak.

In the next second, he slammed me across the room.

“Evidence is right in front of you—and you still want to lie?!”

His roar shook the air; every word carried an icy intent to kill.

Pain exploded along my spine. A sweet metallic taste surged up my throat. Curled on the floor, I choked and coughed, my vision blurring as dark red splattered across the white tile.

Blood.

My blood.

Just now, he’d truly wanted to kill me.