Chapter 0167

My arms tighten around my fragile mate as I ascend to the alpha floor. These private quarters have remained untouched since my mother's passing when I was six. My father couldn't bear the memories and relocated to a cabin deep in the woods. He offered me the choice—I chose to stay. The familiar scent of pine and leather still lingers in these walls.

Dr. Whitmore arrives just as I settle the unconscious woman onto the guest bed across from my own chambers. I don't know if she'll recognize our bond yet—not in this condition. She needs space. Safety.

"Alpha?" The doctor knocks lightly.

"Enter." My command comes out rougher than intended.

Nathaniel hovers at the threshold until my growl sends him retreating. Dr. Whitmore's eyebrows lift but she says nothing, immediately assessing my mate's condition. "Remove her outer garments while I prepare the IV."

The moment I peel back the tattered jacket, my vision tints red.

Bite marks.

Dozens of them. Some fresh, others faded to silver scars. All unmistakably vampire.

"Moon Goddess," the doctor breathes, gloved hands hovering over the worst clusters. "Where did you—"

"Found her collapsed at our northern border." My claws extend involuntarily. Dorian howls in my mind, demanding vengeance for what's been done to her.

Dr. Whitmore works swiftly—inserting IV lines, drawing blood samples. "Severe dehydration. Malnutrition. Likely anemia given the blood loss." Her stethoscope pauses over my mate's ribs. "Her wolf?"

"Dormant," I grit out. How could fate give me someone so broken? So small she might shatter if I hold her too tight.

The doctor's gaze flicks to my clenched fists. "She's...?"

I give a single nod. "That information stays between us."

"Understood." She packs her kit with clinical efficiency. "I'll run these tests immediately. Monitor her breathing—if it changes, mind-link me."

As the door clicks shut, Nathaniel's voice echoes in my skull. "Report."

"Three known covens within our territory," he responds. "But nothing about escaped prisoners." A pause. "Though... hunters raided a nest 170 miles north nine days ago. Rumor says their prince kept a favorite blood donor." His hesitation speaks volumes. "The description matches her."

I sink into the bedside chair, fingers brushing a strand of hair from her ashen face. Whoever did this will pay in screams.

But first... first she has to live.