Chapter 64
Elara's POV
Warren pushed the door open. I followed him inside.
The temperature dropped instantly. My breath came out in small clouds.
The room was dim. A fireplace crackled in the corner. Candles lined the shelves. Their flames cast dancing shadows across stone walls.
A woman sat at a long wooden table. Her back was to us. Silver-white hair fell past her shoulders in a straight line. She was grinding something in a mortar. The powder glowed faintly green.
She didn't look up.
"Another one who can't shift?" Her voice was sharp. Clipped. "Warren, your Council's genetic screening really needs improvement."
Warren cleared his throat. "Helena, she's a special case. And we're short on time."
The woman—Dr. Helena—finally lifted her head.
I stopped breathing.
Her eyes were deep purple. Not violet. Not lavender. Purple like bruised plums. Like nothing I'd ever seen on a human face.
She looked at me. Her gaze moved from my face down to my feet and back up again. Slow. Methodical. Like she was reading something written on my skin.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Interesting." She tilted her head. "You have something inside you that—"
My heart jumped into my throat.
But she stopped. Waved her hand dismissively. "Not my business though."
She stood up. Walked to a shelf on the far wall. "Get on that bed."
I looked where she pointed. A stone slab in the corner. Flat. Cold-looking. No padding.
Great.
I walked over. Sat down on the edge. The stone was freezing even through my jeans.
Helena pulled down several glass bottles. Poured silver liquid into a clay bowl. Added dried leaves that crumbled in her fingers. Then black powder from a small vial.
She mixed it with a wooden stick. The smell hit me immediately. Sharp. Medicinal. Something else underneath that made my nose wrinkle.
She turned around. Looked at me with those purple eyes.
"This will hurt." No sympathy in her voice. Just fact. "Don't move. If you thrash around, the magic will backlash. Could kill you."
I met her gaze. "Okay."
"Lie down."
I swung my legs up. Lay flat on my back. The stone was so cold it burned through my shirt.
Helena walked over. She dipped her fingers in the bowl. The mixture dripped off them. Silver and black.
"Ready?"
"Start."
She pressed her hand to my chest. Right over my sternum.
Ice.
That was the only word for it. Ice spreading from her palm outward. Through my ribs. Into my lungs. Down my arms. Up my neck.
My whole body went rigid.
Helena started chanting. Low. Rhythmic. Words I didn't recognize. Old words. They felt heavy in the air.
The stone bed lit up.
I jerked my head to the side. Saw glowing lines spreading across the surface beneath me. Runes. Ancient symbols forming a circle around my body.
The cold intensified. Became something else.
Fire.
Burning from the inside out. Starting in my chest. In my lungs. Every single airway lighting up like someone had poured gasoline down my throat and struck a match.
I bit down hard. Tasted blood.
My fingernails dug into my palms. Deeper. Deeper. I felt skin break.
Don't move. Don't move. Don't fucking move.
The fire spread. Into my throat. My sinuses. Every place air touched.
Something was waking up. Deep in my blood. In my cells. Not the wolf. Something older. Quieter. Like a door that had been locked my entire life was being kicked open.
My healing factor.
The chanting got louder. The runes blazed brighter.
The pain peaked. White-hot. Unbearable.
Then it stopped.
The light vanished. The runes went dark.
I gasped. Sucked in air like I'd been drowning.
My chest heaved. Once. Twice. Three times.
No wheeze.
No tightness.
No burning.
I breathed in again. Deeper this time. Filled my lungs completely.
Nothing. No restriction. No pain.
Just air.
"It worked." Helena's voice came from somewhere to my left. "Your wolf genetics repaired your respiratory system. You still can't shift. But the asthma won't bother you anymore."
I sat up slowly. My hands were shaking. Not from fear. From adrenaline. From the shock of breathing normally for the first time in this body.
I looked down at my palms. Four crescent-shaped cuts where my nails had broken skin. As I watched, they started closing. Slowly. Much slower than a full wolf's healing. But closing.
My healing factor was active.
I took another breath. Then another. Testing it. Waiting for the familiar tightness to come back.
Nothing.
My lungs expanded fully. Easily. Like they were supposed to. Like they'd been designed to do all along.
I pressed my hand to my chest. Felt my heartbeat. Strong. Steady. No longer fighting just to pull in air.
This body had been a cage since I woke up in it. Weak. Fragile. Breaking down at the worst moments.
Not anymore.
I flexed my fingers. The cuts were almost gone now. Just faint pink lines.
My mind was already moving. Calculating. If my healing worked this well on small wounds, what about during a fight? How much damage could I take now before I went down?
I looked up at Helena. She was already back at her table. Cleaning her tools like nothing had happened.
"Thank you," I said.
She didn't turn around. Just waved one hand dismissively.
I slid off the stone slab. My legs were steady. No wobbling. No weakness.
I was ready.
Warren exhaled loudly. Relief clear on his face. "Thank god. Now we can focus on the rescue."
I nodded once. Pushed off the stone slab completely. Stood on my own two feet.
The difference was staggering. No lightheadedness. No need to brace myself. Just solid ground under me and air flowing freely through my lungs.
I rolled my shoulders back. Tested my range of motion. Everything felt lighter. Easier.
Vivian's face flashed through my mind. Tied up. Terrified. Alone in that concrete room.
The clock was ticking.
I looked at Warren. "When do we leave?"
Before he could answer, the door opened.
Two people walked in. Black tactical gear. Combat boots. The kind of posture that screamed military training.
A man. Buzz cut. Scar through his left eyebrow. Maybe six feet tall. Broad shoulders.
A woman. Dark hair pulled back tight. Lean. Sharp eyes that swept the room in two seconds flat.
Warren gestured to them. "This is Torres and Martinez. Special Operations Division. Council's best. I've arranged for them to assist with tonight's rescue."
I looked at them. Watched how they stood. Weight balanced. Ready to move. Torres kept his right hand near his belt. Probably where his weapon was. Martinez's eyes never stopped moving. Scanning. Assessing threats.
They were good. I could tell that much.
But I didn't need them.
I shook my head. "No."
Warren blinked. "What?"
"I said no. I don't need backup." My voice came out flat. Calm. "I'll handle this myself."
Torres made a sound. Almost a laugh. "Kid, you know what you're dealing with, right? Professional kidnappers. Not some school bullies."
I turned my head. Looked at him.
His smile faltered.
I kept my gaze steady. Let the cold settle into my eyes. The kind of cold I'd learned in the North. When you looked at someone and they knew—really knew—you'd killed before.
"I'm very aware." My voice didn't change. Still quiet. Still even. "I'm also very aware of my own capabilities."
Torres took half a step back. Unconscious. His body reacting before his brain caught up.
Martinez frowned. Looked at Warren. "She's serious?"