Chapter 84 Multitalented

Chapter 84 Multitalented
Exhaustion finally won after Tyra fought sleep for a while, her body gradually giving in despite every attempt she made to remain awake.

But with Zaran and Kosi seated opposite her on the other side of the fire, her mind refused to completely relax.

Every slight sound had her opening her eyes and looking around, checking her surroundings before allowing herself to settle again. And that was exactly why she woke up at the sound of Kosi whispering.

"Master, Tyra cold. Freezing." Kosi's whisper drifted across the quiet space and reached her ears clearly.

Even with her eyes deliberately kept closed, Tyra immediately realized something was different. She was no longer sitting in the position she had fallen asleep in. Somehow, she was now lying down.

The temperature had also dropped far lower than it had been earlier.

She was shivering so badly that her teeth nearly chattered, despite still wearing Zaran's fur jacket. She refused to move, refused to open her eyes.

Something about the hushed exchange between Zaran and Kosi made her curious enough to remain completely still. She wanted to know what they were talking about.

"I can't wake her up. She's exhausted. She needs rest." His whisper was quiet, almost cautious, as though he was afraid even the slightest increase in his voice would disturb her.

Kosi remained silent for a few seconds before speaking again.

"Share body heat, master."

Tyra's brows knitted beneath her closed eyelids. She wasn't sure whether she had heard him correctly.

Share body heat?

Her mind immediately became more alert, even though the rest of her body was exhausted.

"What? No!" Zaran responded almost immediately. "She's going to freak out. I have to heat the entire place with magic."

There was a brief pause before Kosi protested.

"Dangerous, master. If master do that, master lose all strength. Master only regained full strength today. Can't lose it again."

Tyra's brows pulled together even further. What was Kosi talking about? What did he mean by Zaran losing his strength?

"I have no choice," Zaran whispered. His voice sounded firm, but there was something beneath it that made Tyra's chest tighten slightly. "I can't let her freeze to death. I'll only pass out for a few hours. Look out for her and don't tell her what happened. Just tell her I need a few more hours of sleep."

Tyra's eyes remained firmly closed.

Before she could make sense of what they were talking about, she began to feel the air around her changing.

Warmth slowly spread through the alcove, reaching her chilled fingers and toes first before gradually spreading across the rest of her body. The difference was so noticeable that her muscles began to relax almost immediately.

As much as she wanted to know what Zaran was doing, she forced herself not to open her eyes.

Eventually, the warmth became soothing enough that her body stopped fighting for consciousness. Her breathing slowed, her muscles relaxed completely, and despite everything she had heard, sleep finally pulled her under again.



~ Blazing Moon ~

"So he isn't eating?" Havilah threw the question toward Desmond, his brows slightly knitted.

There was concern written all over his face, but Desmond's expression carried something far deeper. He looked exhausted, frustrated, and increasingly helpless.

"Barely eats, barely sleeps, always restless, and he doesn't seem to be interested in anything anymore," Desmond responded, his voice bleeding pain and disappointment. "I am slowly losing my friend, Councilor. This isn't what you promised when you came to ask Evander to take up this offer."

Havilah lowered his gaze, knowing there was no easy response to that accusation.

"You should know that I didn't expect things to go this way. It also came as a surprise to me. But trust me, I am doing everything I can to correct things."

His voice carried a sincerity that Desmond couldn't completely dismiss, but it wasn't enough to ease the frustration eating away at him.

Desmond opened his mouth, ready to retort, but before he could say anything, the elevator doors before them slid open.

One of the doctors attending to Evander stepped out, his expression immediately drawing their attention.

"Sir Desmond, Councilor Havilah," he acknowledged them both, giving a short bow.

Havilah took a step toward him.

"Any progress, Doctor?"

"Yes, Councilor. We have successfully extracted all the poison from his system, but his wound still isn't healing as is supposed."

"What do you mean?" Havilah probed further, his concern becoming more apparent as he studied the doctor's face.

The doctor went on to explain, choosing his words carefully. "He has regained all of his strength, but the wound is not closing up. He is healing even slower than humans. We had to use other methods to dress the wound to prevent it from getting infected since we don't really understand what is going on with him anymore."

He paused briefly to catch his breath, his eyes moving between Desmond and Havilah before he lowered his voice. His expression became more serious, and he glanced around the hallway as if he wasn't entirely comfortable saying what he was about to say where anyone else could hear.

"Also, I think he is gradually going insane."

"He's not going insane," Desmond immediately countered, shooting the doctor a dagger glare.

The doctor flinched slightly at the intensity of his response but didn't take his words back.

"I'm sorry, Sir Desmond. I understand that he is your friend, and I apologize if my language was offensive, but I'm trained to know when someone is beginning to lose their mind."

His tone remained respectful, but there was certainty behind his words.

Desmond's jaw tightened, clearly unhappy with the doctor's conclusion.

"What brought you to that conclusion?" The question came from Havilah this time, his tone remaining calm despite the seriousness of what they were hearing.

The doctor lowered his voice even further. His eyes darted toward either end of the hallway before he continued, looking almost like someone about to reveal a dangerous secret.

"I have been suspecting it for a while, but today he proved it."

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a brown wig. The sight left Desmond staring at him in confusion.

The doctor extended it toward Havilah and Desmond.

"Look at this. He wouldn't let anybody attend to him unless we had wigs, dresses, and makeup, just to look like the missing moonless. My colleagues and the others are still up there doing..."

He suddenly trailed off, his expression becoming one of complete disbelief.

"I don't even know how to explain it. It's better to see for yourselves."

He gave them a short bow before walking away, leaving Havilah staring after him with a frown that deepened slightly.

They went up to the top floor and proceeded toward the living room. Neither of them was prepared for what awaited them on the other side of the door.

Because of his injury and weakness, five moonless wolves had been ordered to stay permanently in his residence to stabilize his volatile bond energy while Tyra remained missing.

All five moonless wolves, including the two doctors, were standing around the living room, and every single one of them had brown wavy wigs on their heads, makeup on their faces, and matching dresses on their bodies.

The sight was enough to leave Desmond speechless.

But that wasn't even the most shocking part.

One of the doctors was dancing in the middle of the living room, moving his body with an enthusiasm that was completely unexpected from someone who had spent years studying medicine.

The other doctor stood nearby with a script in his hands, reading from it while acting out every line with an amount of commitment that made the entire scene even more ridiculous.

Desmond's mouth fell slightly open, while Havilah simply stared. Neither man seemed capable of processing what they were seeing.

Evander, however, looked completely comfortable.

"Desmond, Councilor Havilah, you came right on time. Come join me in enjoying this live premium entertainment."

Evander patted the empty space beside him, a full blown smile spread across his face.

He sat comfortably on the sofa with his bare bandaged chest in full view, looking completely absorbed in whatever strange performance was taking place before him.

Desmond slowly turned his head toward him.

"Evander..."

"Sit down," Evander insisted, patting the space again. "You don't want to miss this part."

Havilah exchanged a brief look with Desmond before they both reluctantly sat down.

Evander's attention immediately returned to the performance.

"Who knew these doctors were multitalented?" he asked, sounding genuinely impressed.

Havilah looked at him with concern. "They are doctors, Alpha Evander, not entertainers."

"Are you kidding me?" Evander countered, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Look at that one. He's got moves. And that other one is a great actor. He even changed his voice to give me premium satisfaction."

Right on cue, the doctor who had apparently been promoted to actor marched toward the artificial plant in the living room. He stopped beside it, lifted his chin dramatically, and began acting out the words written on his script.

"Future Alpha Evander, I know I might end up in prison, but I will beat the hell out of you if you don't stop testing my patience."

Evander immediately burst into hearty laughter.

"I could cry tears of joy because he brings back sweet memories," he said, wiping at the corner of his eye. "She actually said she would beat me up. I should have let her try."

Desmond stared at his friend.

None of this was normal.

Yet Evander looked happier than he had looked in days, even if the happiness was built around memories of the woman who was nowhere to be found.

At that moment, a knock rattled the door, and Evander's smile faded slightly as his attention settled on the door.

"Greetings, Alpha. I bring an urgent message." The person who knocked announced from outside.