Chapter 82 FEAR
Kael's POV
I didn’t walk to the physician’s chamber.
I ran.
My boots struck stone too loud, too fast, echoing through halls that suddenly felt hostile, watched. Vance’s words clung to me like burrs in fur, sharp and impossible to shake.
Star Moon has a spy in my pack house.
The thought alone made my stomach turn.
I pushed the physician’s door open without knocking.
She looked up from her table, already frowning. “Alpha—”
“He’s getting worse,” I said, breathless. “And I need you to listen to everything I’m about to say.”
She straightened immediately. “What happened?”
I dragged a hand through my hair. “Vance. From Star Moon. He came.”
Her jaw tightened. “That was fast.”
“He said Adam’s symptoms aren’t random,” I said. “The vomiting. The shaking. The nosebleeds. The fainting.”
She went still.
“He said they’re signs of withdrawal,” I continued. “Of awakening. Of a body trying to become something it was forcibly prevented from becoming.”
Her fingers curled slowly on the edge of the table.
“And when I asked about the glowing marks,” I said, my voice rough, “he said they were accelerating the damage.”
She exhaled through her nose. “And did he explain what damage?”
“He claimed my presence is hurting Adam,” I said. “That my pheromones are causing the nosebleeds.”
Her eyes flicked up sharply. “That’s—”
“And before you say it,” I snapped, then forced myself to slow, “I locked my wolf away. Completely. The marks stopped. But the nosebleeds didn’t.”
There's a long, heavy silence…
I swallowed. “That means it’s not me. It’s—” I stopped myself. Forced the words back down. No. Not aloud.
The physician’s gaze sharpened. “Continue.”
“He said without Star Moon’s intervention, Adam’s body will collapse,” I said. “That I’m letting emotion blind me while my mate deteriorates under my watch.”
I laughed, harsh and broken. “As if I would ever hand him back.”
She studied me for a long moment. Then, quietly, “Did he mention what exactly they did to Adam?”
“No,” I said. “Only that they studied him. Suppressed him. And that whatever they put in him is still there.”
Her lips pressed thin.
“Tell me the truth,” I demanded. “Is he dying?”
She didn’t answer immediately.
My chest tightened. “Talk to me.”
“We don’t know,” she said finally. “And that’s the worst part.”
Anger flared. Fear hotter still. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only honest one,” she replied. “What Star Moon did to Adam wasn’t standard suppression. It wasn’t normal conditioning. His reactions are… inconsistent.”
“Inconsistent how?” I asked.
She paced once, then turned back to me. “His body behaves like it’s fighting itself. As if two systems are competing.”
My heart slammed harder.
“And the fainting?” I pressed. “The blood?”
“Stress responses,” she said. “But not just emotional. Physical stress. Internal strain.”
I clenched my fists. “Because of—”
She nodded once. “Yes.”
The room felt smaller.
“You’re telling me his body can’t handle this,” I said. “That he’s breaking down?”
“I’m telling you his body is prioritizing something else,” she replied. “Everything in him is being diverted.”
“To sustain the pup's life,” I whispered.
She met my eyes. “Yes.”
The word echoed too loudly in my head.
I dragged in a shaky breath. “Is there a way to stop it?”
Her expression hardened instantly. “No.”
“Please there has to be a—”
“No,” she repeated. “You should not even be thinking in that direction, Alpha.”
My throat burned. “If it’s killing him—”
“It isn’t killing him,” she cut in sharply. “It’s straining him. There’s a difference.”
“And if the strain becomes fatal?” I shot back.
She stepped closer. “Then we find another way. But ending it is not an option. We can't even do that if we tried to, you're a true blood Alpha and this pup has your blood, we can't do anything to it.”
I looked away, jaw tight. “Star Moon claims they can stabilize him.”
“They also claim ownership over him,” she said coldly. “Forgive me if I don’t trust their intentions.”
I turned back. “Is it true? That my blood is fighting whatever is in him?”
She hesitated.
“Say it,” I demanded.
“Yes,” she said. “The pup carries your blood. Your blood is strong and ancient. And whatever Star Moon did to Adam’s body was meant to suppress that exact thing.”
My hands shook. “So my child is harming my mate.”
“No,” she said firmly. “The situation is harming them both.”
That didn’t help.
“Tell me what to do,” I said. “Give me something. There has to be something.”
She studied me, then said slowly, “There is one thing.”
I latched onto it immediately. “What?”
“You need to stop caging your wolf.”
The words hit like a blow.
“No,” I said instantly. “Absolutely not.”
“You must,” she insisted.
“We’ve already observed that my wolf's presence is unraveling him faster,” I snapped. “My wolf is too strong to be reckless with.”
“Your wolf is not causing the damage,” she said. “It’s revealing it.”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand—”
“I understand more than you think,” she interrupted. “Your wolf is a catalyst. Yes. But also an anchor.”
“How?” I demanded.
“Adam’s wolf is dormant,” she said. “Not gone. Dormant. Suppressed for so long his body forgot how to let it exist.”
“And awakening it could kill him,” I said.
“Or save him,” she replied.
Silence stretched between us.
“You want me to risk him,” I said hoarsely.
“You are already risking him,” she said gently. “By trying to soften yourself.”
My chest felt hollow.
“He bleeds when I’m near him for too long. Even my scent is bad for him, I had to start using scent blockers for mild coverage.” I said.
“And he stabilizes when you touch him,” she countered. “When you hold him. When you speak to him.”
I remembered his breathing evening out against my chest. The way his body relaxed when I wrapped around him.
“Your wolf doesn’t want to harm him,” she said. “It wants to protect what’s yours.”
“What if protection looks like destruction?” I asked.
“Then we guide it,” she said. “Not bury it.”
I sank into the chair, suddenly exhausted.
“Star Moon is coming,” I said quietly. “They won’t stop.”
“I know,” she replied.
“And Adam is caught in the middle.”
Her voice softened. “He’s not a battlefield. He’s a person.”
“I know,” I whispered. “That’s why I’m terrified.”
She placed a hand on the table between us. “Then listen carefully, Alpha.”
I looked up.
“Take care of him,” she said. “Feed him. Rest him. Keep him calm. Keep him loved. And let your wolf out, stop blocking your scent, stop trapping your pheromones.”
“If I do this,” I said, “and he gets worse—”
“Then we adapt,” she said. “But doing nothing will kill him faster than any risk.”
I closed my eyes.
Adam’s smile flashed behind my lids. His voice. His trust.
His eyes when he said “I trust you” he said he trusts me to make it easier for him. I have to do so.
I stood up.
“I won’t let Star Moon touch him,” I said.
“Good,” she replied.
“And I won’t lose him,” I added, voice breaking.
She nodded. “Then don’t.”
I turned for the door.
Every instinct in me screamed the same thing, loud and clear:
I don’t care what it costs.
I will keep him alive.