Two cycles—two full days and nights—passed in a relentless blur of triage. The Guardian Chamber, once a place of silent, festering despair, now smelled faintly of pine disinfectant and Elara's crude, lye-heavy soap. Under Elias's skeptical but obedient guard, she cleaned wounds, reduced fever with cold compresses, and administered herbal poultices. Lyra, her first patient, was now sitting up, the Shadow Corruption completely halted in its spread. The pack was starting to whisper about the "Human Healer."
Elara's exhaustion was profound. She wasn't using magic, but the focused intensity of her clinical work, coupled with the sheer elemental cold of the Citadel, drained her entirely.
She was scrubbing her hands raw with the foul soap when Kael returned. He didn't announce his presence; the air simply dropped several degrees, and the low chatter of the other wolves died instantly.
He was even more imposing in the quiet of the infirmary. His glacier eyes scanned the chamber, observing the stark difference: the stillness of recovery had replaced the thrashing of corruption. Elias immediately straightened, shifting into his human form out of deference.
"Alpha," Elias greeted, his voice respectful. "The Conduit's methods are unconventional, but the success is undeniable. Lyra is stable, and three others have shown significant reversal of the taint."
Kael stepped closer to Elara, stopping inches away. His size eclipsed her entirely. He didn't offer a compliment or a thank you; he simply held out his massive hand, palm up, toward her face.
"You have proven the quality of your blood," Kael stated, his voice a low, gravelly current. "Now, you will prove your obedience."
Elara didn't flinch, but her heart hammered against her ribs. She understood the demand. He wanted the instantaneous, magical healing she had demonstrated on Elias in the clearing—the effect of the pure Conduit touch.
"I am not a machine, Alpha," she replied, keeping her own hands firmly tucked behind her back. "My methods are slow because they are scientific. They require time to clean the area and allow the body to recover."
Kael's eyes narrowed, ice hardening in their depths. "I did not ask for your opinion on efficacy, little human. I require speed. The Shadow Corruption claimed three more patrols while you scrubbed wounds with that vile sludge. I have an entire territory to protect, not just this infirmary." He leaned in, the elemental cold surrounding him intensifying, a clear warning. "Touch me."
The unspoken tension of the command—the possessiveness, the implicit threat—was overwhelming. This wasn't about medicine; it was about authority and claiming the source of power.
"I can't just touch you, Kael," Elara whispered, the use of his name reflexive and defiant. "When I touched Elias, it drained me. I felt the magic use me as a wire, and I need time to recover my energy. You are an Alpha. The elemental power you carry is enormous. It would drain me to the point of collapse, perhaps worse."
"Then you will collapse," Kael countered, his tone absolute. He grabbed her left wrist with crushing force, lifting her arm so quickly she gasped, and brought her small palm to rest directly over the pulsing, massive muscle of his forearm.
The contact was immediate and overwhelming. It wasn't warmth this time; it was a devastating flood.
Elara felt her body instantly become transparent—a glass pane through which Kael's raw, furious elemental power roared. His own magic was fighting a localized, subtle taint on his skin, a remnant of a recent skirmish. Her body acted as the ultimate purifier, drawing the green Shadow energy through her like a painful electric shock and expelling it back as pure, amplified Ice magic.
The sensation was euphoric and agonizing. For a fleeting second, she tasted the raw power of the Ice Wolf Alpha—his boundless protectiveness, his sense of overwhelming duty, and a primal, terrifying need for her purity.
Then, the pain hit. It wasn't physical; it was the sudden, total collapse of her internal reserves. Her mind swam, and her vision grayed at the edges.
Kael instantly felt the drain, too. His eyes snapped down, seeing the color flee her face and the tremors seize her body. He broke contact with a sharp intake of breath, a flicker of genuine shock—and perhaps alarm—crossing his stern features.
Elara stumbled, catching herself on the stone bed. Her entire body felt like damp sand. She was utterly spent.
"That is the difference, Alpha," she gasped out, struggling to stand upright. "Your magic is replenished by the element. My capacity is limited by my mortality. Use me like that again, and you won't have a cure. You'll have a corpse."
Kael stared at her, his massive chest heaving. He had pushed her to the very edge of human endurance, testing the limits of his new possession. He saw the undeniable truth in her trembling body. He could not simply command her to heal on demand; she had limits he had to respect.
"You have your boundaries, Conduit," Kael conceded, the possessiveness in his voice layered with a grudging respect for her resilience. He didn't apologize, but the tension in the room eased slightly. He walked to her medical bag and picked up her crude roll of sterile linen. He dropped it onto the nearest stone bed.
"You will remain here," Kael commanded, sweeping his arm toward the chamber. "You will heal the pack using your slow, careful methods. But every night, you will come to my private chambers. You will touch me, and stabilize my power against the Scourge. And you will not resist."
He had established his boundaries—and now, hers. The distinction was clear: she was the Healer of the Pack by day, and the Alpha's Private Conduit by night. The line between healer and claimed property had been erased, replaced by the crushing weight of Kael's duty and desire.
The conflict is now focused on her energy limits and Kael's possessiveness. This sets up the nighttime dynamic and forces Elara to navigate the most powerful beastman's personal space.