Chapter 179 Chapter 179
Violet
The answer popped in my head the next instant.
Lady Aurelia!
I didn't let myself think about what I was doing, didn't let myself consider the consequences. All I knew was that Elijah needed help and his mother was the only person who might be able to provide it.
I ran as fast as I could, found Aurelia's door and pounded on it, too frantic to care about manners.
"Luna Aurelia!" I called out, my voice cracking. "Please! I need your help!"
The door opened almost immediately. Aurelia stood there in an elegant dressing gown, her hair down for once, falling in dark waves around her shoulders. Her expression shifted from surprise to something harder when she saw me.
"Violet? What are you—" Her eyes landed on my hands, on the blood staining them, and her face went pale. "Is that—"
"It's Elijah," I said, the words tumbling out. "Please, you have to help him. The wounds won't stop bleeding and I don't know what to do and Kelly said your husband won't let the doctor see him and I'm not trained for this…"
I dropped to my knees right there in her doorway, my hands clasped together. Tears were streaming down my face yet again.
"Please," I begged. "Please help your son. I'll do anything. I'll leave, I'll stay away from him, I'll do whatever you want. I’ll break his heart and never look at him again. But please don't let him suffer like this. Please."
For a moment, Aurelia just stared at me. Then something in her perfectly composed expression cracked, just slightly, and I saw something I'd never seen before.
Fear. Maternal fear, raw and primal.
"Get up," she said, her voice tight. "Take me to him. Now."
She disappeared back into her room for just a moment, returning with a small wooden box inlaid with mother of pearl. Her hands were shaking as she gripped it, betraying the calm of her expression.
We moved quickly through the hallways, Aurelia's silk dressing gown flowing behind her. She didn't speak or ask questions, just walked with a grim expression that suggested she'd done this before. Maybe she had tended to Elijah's wounds before, had navigated this particular nightmare more times than I could imagine.
We were passing through the west wing when I heard a noise.
It was low and rhythmic, coming from one of the rooms nearby.
I slowed, my head turning toward the noise. "Is someone hurt?" I asked, my mind immediately fearing that Alpha Alaric had lashed out at someone, probably a maid or a servant.
"Keep walking," Aurelia said sharply, her hand gripping my arm and trying to pull me forward.
But I'd already stopped, trying to place the sound. It was familiar somehow, but wrong like it was out of place in this context.
“No wait, I heard something”
“We have to tend to Elijah” Lady Aurelia repeated.
I had opened my mouth to argue but then I heard it more clearly this time.
It was a moan of some female. And it was quickly followed by a grunt that was definitely male.
"Violet, we need to—" Aurelia started, but I'd already turned toward the source of the sound, drawn by horrified curiosity.
One of the doors was half open, light spilling out into the darkened hallway. The sounds were coming from inside, louder now, unmistakable in their meaning.
Before I could look away, my eyes found the gap in the doorway.
And I saw Alpha Alaric bent over a desk, a woman pressed beneath him. Her dress was pushed up around her waist, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force.
The sounds they were making were obscene, animal, nothing like the careful control Alaric displayed in public.
I was beyond horrified. This man had just beaten his son bloody. The man who claimed to care about family honor and pack reputation and appropriate behavior.
He was bent over a desk, fucking someone who definitely wasn’t his wife.
I didn't recognize her, but she was young, younger than me probably, with dark hair spilling across the desk.
I must have gasped in shock because Aurelia's hand clamped over my mouth, pulling me back from the doorway.
Our eyes met in the dim hallway and I didn’t know what to say to her. Her eyes were flat, emotionless, like she'd seen this scene so many times it no longer affected her.
She removed her hand from my mouth and grabbed my arm instead, practically dragging me down the hallway toward Elijah's room. We moved quickly, silently, and I noticed the way she kept glancing back, checking if we'd been spotted.
We reached Elijah's room and Aurelia shut the door firmly behind us, leaning against it for just a moment with her eyes closed. When she opened them, they were hard again, that vulnerability I'd glimpsed earlier locked away.
She moved to the bed where Elijah still lay unconscious, setting her wooden box on the nightstand. Her hands were shaking worse now as she opened it, revealing bottles and jars and supplies I didn't recognize.
"Help me turn him slightly," she said, her voice clipped and professional. "Be careful. Support his shoulder."
We maneuvered him together, just enough that Aurelia could better access the wounds on his back. Elijah made a sound, a low groan that spoke of agony, but didn't wake.
"Why isn't he waking up?" I asked, fear spiking through me.
"The belt," Aurelia said, selecting a dark bottle from her collection. "Alaric soaks it in a toxic herb mixture that causes more pain, slows healing, and has a sedative effect in high enough doses. Elijah will be out for hours."
She said it so matter-of-factly, like this was normal, like fathers regularly beat their sons with poisoned weapons.
And she obviously made no comment on how her husband was fucking another woman right under this roof which she acted oblivious to it.
This family was beyond messed up.
"Now watch carefully," Aurelia continued, uncorking the bottle. A sharp, medicinal smell filled the air. "This needs to be applied to the deepest wounds first. It will slow the bleeding and prevent infection, but it has to be done correctly."
She demonstrated, pouring a small amount of the liquid onto a clean cloth and pressing it to one of the worst gashes on Elijah's back. Almost immediately, the bleeding slowed, the wound edges seeming to seal slightly.
"You try," she said, handing me the bottle. "The one on his shoulder blade. Be generous with the solution."
I copied her movements with trembling hands, watching in amazement as the medicine worked. Whatever was in that bottle, it was far more effective than anything I'd tried.
We worked in silence for several minutes, moving from wound to wound. Aurelia's hands were still shaking, I noticed, even as her movements remained controlled.
Then she pulled out another jar, this one containing a thick, green paste that smelled like herbs and something else I couldn't identify.
"This salve will help with the pain and speed the healing," she explained, scooping some onto her fingers. "Once we've treated all the wounds with the solution."