Chapter 16
ELARA’S POV
Recovery was a slow, painful process, but after a few grueling days, Riven’s prediction proved true. My body’s healing surged once I was fully awake, knitting my wounds closed. The stitches vanished, leaving only faint, silvery marks that would soon disappear entirely.
Still, it took two long weeks to convince Ronan to let me travel to the Moon White Pack. He’d been adamant I stay until I was completely recovered and travel was safe.
Marcelline’s words lingered like a dark echo, replaying endlessly in my mind. What was she scheming now? How far would her anger push her? Her actions, her unchecked rage, made no sense. Was this really just about Ronan? The questions gnawed at me constantly.
I glanced at Ronan, locked in discussion with a warm-faced elder from the Moon White Pack. His focus was razor-sharp, intense.
“Elara,” Ronan’s deep voice cut through my thoughts.
“On my way,” I said, approaching them. The elder greeted me with a kind smile.
“You’re Elara, the healer, I take it?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“Yes,” I replied, shaking his outstretched hand. His grip was firm, almost startlingly so.
“I’m Theo,” he said, then turned to Ronan, his face serious. “She’ll be safe with us, Alpha Ronan.”
“Make sure of it,” Ronan ordered, his tone cold and unyielding. “I won’t tolerate mistakes.”
Theo’s posture stiffened, his smile tightening, but he nodded. “Ready, my dear?” he asked me, his warmth returning, though it felt forced.
“Of course.” I smiled back, glancing at Ronan. His face was unreadable, as always, his emotions locked away. It frustrated me—what was he hiding? Was it just his Alpha nature, or something more?
“Stay safe,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft, almost a whisper.
“I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”
He gave a curt nod, and I left with Theo, stepping out of the palace. Marcelline’s words haunted me: He killed my maids and guards because of you. I glanced back—Ronan stood with Tavian, his eyes still a mystery. The thought of him caring for me seemed ludicrous, yet a quiet warmth bloomed inside me.
The wagon’s steady rumble vibrated through me, a dull song of dust and gravel. We arrived at the Moon White Pack as evening fell, the sun sinking behind rugged peaks, casting the sky in deep purples and oranges. The air was thick, heavy with a sickly dampness that clung to my skin.
“We’ve arrived,” Theo announced as the carriage stopped.
“Right.” I stepped down, reaching for my bags, but two maids appeared, swiftly taking them.
“We’ll handle those, miss,” one said, her blonde hair in a messy bun.
“Thank you.”
They led me to my chambers, where Ronan’s two massive guards took their posts outside. A maid and assistant, sent despite the Moon White Pack’s own staff, were housed across from me. My room was large but worn, reflecting the pack’s decay—crumbling buildings, coughing children, and weary adults. The town looked broken.
How could a single illness cause this? Or was something darker at play? The thought sent a shiver through me.
I’d uncover the truth, no matter how grim.
The next morning, after a quick bath and a hurried breakfast, I headed to the pack’s infirmary, unnoticed except by Mia, my assistant, and the maid. The guards stayed at my door.
Outside, I heard a chaotic chorus—groans, soft sobs, and hurried footsteps. Children clung to their mothers, whimpering. Adults coughed harshly, and healers, faces worn with exhaustion, darted between patients with frantic urgency.
“This is worse than the scroll described,” I whispered, stunned by the devastation.
Mia sighed behind me. “We need to be careful not to catch this.”
“Absolutely.”
A sharp, unfamiliar stench hit me, churning my stomach.
“Hi,” I said, approaching a young healer, barely older than a teen, grinding herbs at a cluttered table.
“Hello,” she muttered, not looking up. “Patients need to wait. We’re overwhelmed—”
“I’m not a patient,” I cut in.
“Oh?” She glanced up. “Then who are you?”
“Elara!” Theo’s warm voice interrupted as he approached, smiling. “Up early, I see. I was heading to your chambers when I heard you’d left.”
“Yeah,” I said, scanning the suffering crowd. “I need to help—fast.”
“You’re the Mountain Dew healer?” the girl asked, tilting her head. “You’re younger than I thought.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that. “Uh, yeah.”
A faint, weary smile crossed her face. “Sorry for my rudeness. Welcome.” She set down her bowl and pointed to the infirmary’s inner room.
Inside, my breath caught. The stench was suffocating, the air thick with moans. This was worse than Mountain Dew’s outbreak. There was barely space to move.
“I need a workspace,” I told Mia, who nodded and approached the other healers.
“Why can’t we work together?” a male healer snapped, his voice sharp with irritation. He turned, glaring. “Hiding something?”
“Orion!” an older woman, likely a healer, barked. “Forgive my son’s manners. The stress is overwhelming him.”
“It’s okay,” I said, forcing a smile despite Orion’s scowl. “I just need a private space for me and my assistant.”
“There’s a storage room,” she said, pointing across the room. “It’s small and cramped, but it’ll do.”
“Thank you.” I headed there with Mia, who grabbed herbs and her bag. The room was tight, as promised, but workable. As Mia moved to close the door, the young healer slipped in.
“Can I help?” she asked, raising a brow. “It’s a lot out there.”
“I’ve got it,” I said, forcing a smile, though her presence unsettled me.
“Alright,” she said, nodding before leaving.
When the door shut, Mia frowned. “Something’s not right here… especially with the healers.”
“I feel it too,” I said quietly.