Chapter 173
“My warrior,” Byron said softly, “it is time.”
Marian nodded.
Her face was pale.
A hand slipped into hers and her head snapped up.
Misha was gazing down at her, silently.
She blinked up at him.
She squeezed his hand.
Tryan, for the first time, spoke. Her gaze was on the Lightmoon pack doctor.
“We want the purest form of the heart blood. Nothing less will be accepted,” she stated in a flat, mechanical tone.
The Head Spellcaster of Whitehall, Tryan, was a pale beauty. She was slender and tall, with dark hair and light brown, almost hazel, eyes.
Despite her looks, she was far stronger, physically, than she looked. Her mind control skills were second to none, and she spoke very little.
Before anyone could reply, Marian’s quiet voice filled the room.
“You will get the purest form, Spellcaster. Nothing will prevent me from waking my prince tonight. Let it be known, if anything of this is spoken of to anyone outside this room, I will kill that wolf, and their entire family.”
“This is Lightmoon. We live and die for Blood and Honor.”
“We are not sheep, and we are not dogs. We are Wolf.”
“What we do, we do with free will.”
“Lightmoon has no slaves and no servants. We are not cowed by anyone or anything.”
“I would give my life itself for the one I have chosen to serve.”
“I would give my whole heart if that is what was required,” Marian declared, her voice low, steady, her shoulders and back straight.
“Make no mistake,” Marian continued steadily, turning to face the room, her eyes glowing bright yellow as she held the gaze of every wolf, one after the other, “what happens here tonight, will remain between those gathered.”
Dinka’s rumble filled the room.
Every wolf stood stock still.
No one breathed for a heartbeat. Then, Marian, her hand firmly clutching Misha’s, left the room with Byron in the lead.
It was seven p.m.
At 7.15 p.m., Byron handed a vial of blood to Jorak.
The old shifter nodded, then moved to his other clan members to complete the potion.
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At midnight, Reyland’s chest was cut open.
He had been moved to a bigger room on the highest floor in the pack hospital. All shifters from the smaller room were present in this one. Marian and Misha were the only two missing.
Jorak was still taking lead. It was Bloodrayne’s spell after all.
Also, everyone knew what was at stake – this was the Alpha King’s grandson; no error was allowed – no one was more qualified, or expected, to do the work other than the Chief Bloodrayne Spellcaster.
Byron stood to the side, Senna beside him.
Gravan stood beside Alpha Dax.
Tryan stood behind Jackson.
Jorak, supported by his three clan members, worked on Reyland.
The prince never moved.
Three medicines had been prepared. The first was a salve that Jorak applied directly to Reyland’s beating heart. After opening his patient’s chest, a cut had been made directly on his heart, and the salve was inserted in the opening.
Once the work was done, Jorak’s clan member stitched up the heart and the chest.
The second medicine was applied to the incision on his chest and to every wound Reyland had received during the fight. This was in a dark powder.
Lastly, at half past midnight, a black liquid was poured into Reyland’s mouth, which he swallowed bit by bit.
Then, a white cloth was placed over him, covering him from head to toe.
The cloth shimmered as Jorak and his clan sprinkled more potions and used various incense leaves to purify Reyland’s body and aura.
By one a.m., everything was done.
Reyland was covered with a regular hospital sheet.
The Seer clan headed out of the room to get much-needed rest.
As the four reached the door, Jorak, in the lead, stopped and faced the room.
“He will sleep till the sun rises. It is then that we will know. Anyone who needs to go back to sleep should do so now. Return by ten a.m. and we will all have the answer,” he said calmly, his voice tired.
“The red wolf. How is she?” Dax whispered, his eyes on his son as he stood where he had been throughout the operation.
“She is in the next room,” Byron replied solemnly, answering his Alpha’s question. “She insisted on being close. The Blo– her healer is with her.”
Dax nodded.
Byron gestured for Jorak and his people to exit the room ahead of him. Jorak and his team bowed to the room, then the Seer clan left.
Seena swept ahead of them, leading them to where they could rest for the night.
Byron stood facing the doorway, his eyes on his Alpha.
“Alpha –”
“I will stay here.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I will stay.”
“You are the pack Alpha. You should not give so much energy to any one wolf –”
“He is my son!” Dax breathed, tearing his gaze from Reyland and resting tired eyes on Byron.
“You have three other sons!” Byron pushed back, firmly, but respectfully.
“None of whom are in this condition!” Dax pressed.
“But all of whom need their father! And an entire pack that needs their Alpha! You have removed yourself from the link for half the night. Do you think your people are unaware?” Byron shot back, his patience stretched to its limit.
“I –”
“My Alpha,” a voice croaked to Dax’s far right, “I will stay. It is my duty.”
Dax’s tired gaze drifted to the speaker, and his face hardened.
Jackson stepped forward, his grey eyes steady as he swallowed.
Dax stared at him for five seconds. Then, his gaze shifted back to his son.
“Alpha,” Byron stated calmly.
Dax closed his eyes, his jaw tightening.
The Alpha spun on his heel and left the room.
He did not say a word to Jackson.
Byron turned to Jackson.
“You need to rest.”
“I will stand guard. Once he wakes, I will sleep,” Jackson replied quietly, his deep gaze on the doctor.
The doctor’s eyes shifted to Tryan, the Whitehall spellcaster, the strongest mind melder in the Alpha King’s group. She stared back at him indifferently.
Tryan had stood at the corner in silence, all through everything.
The Alpha King had assigned her to monitor Jackson.
She was also serving as a constant reminder to Jackson that he was being watched by Whitehall.
After his interrogation had been interrupted by Alpha Dax, she had stayed on him, leaving only when he had watched Marian the night before, with the Bloodrayne heir.
She had returned to his side as soon as he stepped out of Reyland’s home.
As far as Tryan knew, the Gamma had not slept for over twenty-four hours.