Chapter 9
ELARA'S POV
That next morning, I came awake feeling this weird, almost otherworldly sense of steady resolve settling over me.
All the doubts and waffling were gone; instead, I mustered up every ounce of guts I had and went ahead with the most insane thing possible.
The very thing I'd promised myself I'd never touch again.
I put in a request to meet with Ronan, aiming to lend a hand with the sickness plaguing the pack.
"Damn it—I'm such a complete fool!" I shouted, pounding my fist hard against the wall. What on earth had I gotten myself into? I started pacing the room back and forth, biting down on my lower lip until it hurt.
Two whole hours had dragged by, and still no word back. Maybe he'd shot it down?
I mean, that'd actually be a relief, wouldn't it?
A sharp knock at the door made me jump. "Who is it?"
"The Alpha's approved your request," a man's voice called from the hallway. Sounded like one of the guards or something along those lines.
My breath stuck in my throat—honestly, I was floored. Ronan had actually okayed it?
"Just give me a sec!"
I rummaged through my belongings in a frenzy, snagging a little pocket blade. Just in case I needed to show proof of what I could do.
I stepped out of the room and headed straight for his office. On the way, I nearly collided with Martha and a few other servants.
"Where are you headed?" Martha asked, her tone steady, but her expression was anything but relaxed. She looked drained and on edge—I couldn't hold it against her. The whole situation was grinding everyone down.
I cleared my throat, looking anywhere but at her. "Just taking care of something small. Nothing major. I'll be back before you know it."
I had to bend the truth, figuring if this blew up, I couldn't pull her in. No way was I revealing my hand without clearing it with Ronan first.
She lifted an eyebrow my way. "Alright... if you say so. Stay safe. I'm heading to my duties now." She gave a casual shrug and kept walking with the group.
Taking a big gulp of air, I pushed on toward Ronan's workspace. I rapped softly on the solid wooden door—oddly enough, his usual sentries weren't standing watch outside.
"Is he even around?" I grumbled, tapping again, feeling my nerve start to crumble.
"Come on in." His low rumble came from inside, right as I was ready to turn tail.
Finally!
I eased the door open and walked in carefully. The place carried scents of aged leather and lingering smoke, with thick drapes pulled tight to block out the light. The second I reached the middle of the room, his features pulled into a deep frown as our eyes connected.
Grumpy overlord, through and through.
"Alpha," I greeted, dropping into a quick bow.
"What do you need?" he demanded, his words cutting sharp and full of impatience.
I faltered for a second, forcing down the knot lodged in my throat. "There's something I need to tell you."
"Then get to it," he barked, his gaze brushing me off like I was an irritant.
I rolled my eyes in my head at his rudeness. "I know a way to heal the kid."
He went still for a beat, his stare drilling right into me. Then, suddenly, he was up and striding over in just a couple of long steps. "Say that again?"
I swallowed hard once more, the tightness in my throat even worse this time. "I can cure the child—and the rest of the pack too."
He squinted at me, eyeing me up like I was some untamed beast poised to wreck his world. "And why in the world would I take your word for it? On what basis?"
I tightened my hands into fists, grinding my teeth, refusing to retreat. I'd already committed by showing up; might as well follow through to the bitter end. "Because if you ignore this, your people are done for. If saving your pack matters to you, you're out of options."
His jaw clenched tight, his eyes turning shadowy. "Explain."
"I came into this world with blood that can mend the hurt and fix the sick, no matter how lethal the problem."
His eyes flared wide for a split second—so fast I questioned if it'd even happened. "You're walking a razor-thin line here."
"Could be," I allowed with a shrug. "But I've had enough of hanging back while everyone around me suffers."
He sized me up for what felt like forever, then finally gave a nod. "Okay. One opportunity. Blow it, and it's over for you."
Harsh!
~
I waited in the dimly lit medical room, my fingers beating an anxious rhythm on the tabletop. The full weight of what I'd chosen bore down on me hard.
I let out a sharp breath when the door groaned ajar. In walked Ronan, Elder Ryder, Martha, and one of the pack's medics. The medic held the little girl, setting her down softly on the bed.
She looked so wasted away, her skeleton showing more than any real substance.
As the door clicked shut, Elder Ryder turned my way with a serious expression, then shifted to Ronan. "You certain she's got this handled, Alpha?"
Ronan avoided looking at me. His mouth was set in a firm line; the room's atmosphere grew thick with unease. "Not really," he admitted softly, his words edged with doubt. "But I'm game to test it. If there's any truth to what she says, we might wrap this up."
Elder Ryder exhaled heavily, his annoyance plain as he dragged a hand through his hair.
Their stares all zeroed in on me, and I gulped, meeting their eyes. I got to my feet and approached the girl slowly. I nearly choked back a sob when I got a proper view.
She resembled a wraith—so ashen, liable to vanish any second. I needed to hurry.
But could I actually pull it off? My gaze darted to Martha; I could tell she was shaking a bit, even with that faint smile she wore.
Digging into my pocket, I drew out the small, keen blade. My grip trembled as I cut a slim line across my palm, coaxing out a bead of red. I lifted my hand to the child's mouth, letting the drops land there.
The seconds dragged like an eternity. My heart slammed against my ribcage. Please, come through. Work already.
This was my first shot at this with someone so close to the brink.
Ronan moved up, his attention locked on the girl's delicate frame. "So?" he pressed, impatience clear in his voice. "Why's there no change?"
I shook my head, words escaping me. Almost three minutes now. Normally, it hit quick—in just moments. Why the holdup? Had we waited too long?
The medic slid over beside him, resting a palm on her chest. His eyes bulged, surprise flashing over his features.
"What's going on?" Ronan quizzed the medic, a weird energy pouring off him... whatever it meant, it wasn't positive.
The medic's finger lingered by her nose, alarm seeping into his look like toxin. "No respiration."
Before I could even think, Ronan lunged my way. I backed up a few steps to dodge, but the wall stopped me cold. "What the hell did you do?!" he roared, anger flaring hot in his glare.
"I didn't do anything bad!" I gasped, gasping for air. "It was meant to fix her!"
Then, right as he geared up to lash out more, the girl sat bolt upright. I gaped in shock past his shoulder as her eyelids fluttered open, filled with amazement as she took us in.
Ronan's head jerked toward what had my attention, his own eyes stretching wide in astonishment. Color rushed back to her faded cheeks, spreading like the break of day after a pitch-black night.
Elder Ryder hurried over, gathering her close in his embrace. "She's got heat in her again," he murmured, tears on the verge of falling. "So much warmth." The medic, for his part, stayed frozen in place, staring at the unfolding scene with total disbelief.
Martha released a wobbly sigh of ease, propping against the wall; her gaze caught mine, a grin breaking wide. Then, Ronan retreated, putting space between us, his eyes finding mine once more, steadier this time.
He slowly combed a hand through his locks, not from irritation now, but pure respite. "Thank you. And... sorry about that." He said in a low tone.
For a second, I just remained motionless, holding his stare—for the very first occasion. He saw me like I was real, like I counted as somebody. Maybe, just maybe, a spark of possibility remained for all of us.