Chapter 46 45
Darius’’ POV
“Nobody should come close.” My voice came out rough, protectively. My mate was injured, she was vulnerable. No one else was supposed to be near her.
My mother gave me a sharp look.
“Look,” she said firmly, “I’m trying to clean her wounds, okay? She’s bleeding way too much. We have to do something before the healer gets here.”
“I said—”
“I get it,” she interrupted, her voice rising. “You’re getting all Alpha, but this is to help her. So relax, Darius. Relax.”
I clenched my jaw. My wolf hated seeing someone else’s hands touch Soraya in this state. But she was right. My mate needed care, not my possessive instincts.
Mom moved closer and knelt beside the bed. She dipped the cloth in the bowl and began wiping the blood gently from Soraya’s cheek. “Shh… it’s okay, dear,” she murmured softly. “The healer will be here soon. Just hang on.”
I swallowed hard, watching her work, guilt spreading through my chest.
Soraya had gone through too much in one day. First, the patriarch's men attacked her and then I, her supposed protector, did this.
I ran a hand through my hair. “This is bad,” I muttered under my breath.
The blood on my hands had dried, but I could still feel its warmth. It was a reminder of what I’d done.
My mother kept pressing the cloth on Soraya’s wound. The white fabric was already soaked in red. She replaced it with another and pressed down again, trying to steady the bleeding.
She’d placed a pillow beneath Soraya’s head to keep her elevated, but her skin was growing pale and her breathing had become shallow.
“Relax,” my mother said without looking at me. “Don’t blame yourself for this. It’s not your fault.”
Not my fault? I clenched my teeth. How could it not be my fault? My own hands had done this. My loss of control. I could still see the moment she fell, the look in her eyes before she hit the ground.
I swallowed hard and reached for her hand, my fingers shaking. I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it gently, whispering against her knuckles, “You’ll be fine, Soraya… please.”
The sound of rushing footsteps broke through the silence.
“She’s here! The healer’s here!” Dante’s voice rang out, breathless. He burst into the room. “Come this way!”
The door creaked open, and Esmeralda stepped in. Even before she spoke, her aura already did the talking. She exuded power, experience and confidence.
Her long, raven-black hair fell over her shoulders, and her icy blue eyes flower faintly. She was dressed in her usual all-black cloak, the edges embroidered with faint silver patterns.
Esmeralda wasn’t someone who came easily when summoned, but being Alpha had its privileges, she couldn't defy me. I’d heard stories of how she’d healed wounds from battles that should’ve been fatal, how she used herbs that carried both natural and magical energy. Seeing her now, I understood why everyone spoke her name with both respect and fear.
“Esmeralda, you’re here,” my mother said in relief. “Please, come take a look.”
Esmeralda walked closer, setting her black satchel on the drawer beside the bed. Her gaze swept over Soraya, then she frowned slightly.
“Those are claw marks,” she said, then sighed. “They don’t look too deep. She should be fine.”
My chest eased a little at her words, but I didn’t dare speak.
She opened her bag and began taking out small glass jars, each filled with different herbs and powders. “Can I get clean water in a bowl?” she asked.
“Sure,” Irene said, quickly taking the bowl she had used before and returning moments later with fresh water.
Esmeralda poured a few pinches of dried green leaves into the water, stirring them until the liquid darkened slightly. The scent that rose from it was mint and something else I couldn’t name. She dipped a clean cloth into the bowl, wrung it out, and then began pressing it gently to Soraya’s wounds.
“These herbs have been used for centuries,” she said as she worked. “They speed up healing and draw out any germs that might’ve entered the wound.”
I watched closely, barely breathing. As the cloth passed over Soraya’s cheek, I noticed the deep marks fading, until they disappeared. Her skin began to look alive again.
“Good,” Esmeralda murmured, glancing briefly at me. “Her body is strong. She’s fighting to heal.”
Then she reached for a bottle of clear water, poured out half of it, and added a handful of powdered spice from another pouch. The liquid shimmered faintly as she shook the bottle.
“This is for her to drink when she wakes,” she explained. “It’ll help restore her strength.”
I nodded.
Esmeralda continued tending to her wounds for a while longer.
“...Soraya,” I whispered.
“It’s better now,” Esmeralda said calmly, wiping her hands with a clean cloth. “No cause for alarm. It’s just a scratch. I’ve healed the wounds. She’s still weak and exhausted, though. I also found smaller cuts in other areas, I’ve treated those as well. She just needs rest.”
She turned to my mother. “Once she wakes up, give her this.” She gestured to the half-filled bottle she’d prepared earlier. “It’ll help restore her strength and balance her energy. After that, make sure she eats something.”
“Thank you so much,” my mother said softly. “We really appreciate this, Esmeralda.”
“It’s fine, Luna queen,” Esmeralda replied with a small smile. “It’s always an honor to help.”
Sam nodded to her. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Sure.”
Esmeralda gathered her things, and together they stepped out of the room. My mother and Irene followed them, leaving me alone with Soraya.
The silence that filled the room was heavy. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hand finding hers again. Her skin was warm again. Her face looked peaceful now, the marks were gone completely. But the image of her lying in her own blood still clung to my mind.
I sighed quietly.
Her blood was still on my hands, literally. I turned them over, staring at the faint stains around my nails.
Carefully, I placed her hand back on the sheets and rose up. I walked into the bathroom, turned on the tap, and let the water run over my hands.
I changed into something lighter and came back out. She was still asleep. I didn’t want to leave her alone, but I knew she needed rest. My instincts screamed to stay by her side and protect my injured mate.
So instead, I found myself pacing back and forth outside the room.