Seraphina POV
The screaming woke me.
My own screaming, I bolted upright in bed, chest heaving, sweat soaking through my nightshirt. My hand flew to the scar above my heart. It burned like fire pressed against skin.
"Not real," I whispered into the darkness. "He's gone. It's not real."
But it felt real. In my dream, I'd watched Caelan die all over again. Watched the hunters circle him. Watched him say the words 'run, Sera, run' before they struck. Watched the bond between us snap like a breaking bone.
I pressed harder against the scar, but the phantom pain wouldn't stop. My fingers trembled.
The clock read 4:47 AM. No point trying to sleep now. The nightmare would just come back.
I stumbled to my desk and grabbed my suppressant kit from the locked drawer. My hands shook as I prepared the injection. The recommended dose was 5ml. I'd been taking 7ml for months.
I drew 9ml into the syringe.
"Too much," I whispered, but I didn't stop. The needle pierced my arm. The liquid burned through my veins like ice. I slumped back in my chair, waiting for the shaking to stop.
In the bathroom down the hall, I splashed cold water on my face. The mirror showed dark circles under my eyes and skin too pale. I looked half-dead.
My suppressant patch on my neck was peeling at the edges. I ripped it off and pressed a fresh one on. Two layers now. The injection and the patch.
"Just another day," I told my reflection. "Keep your head down. Six more months and you can disappear."
I didn't believe it. Neither did the terrified girl staring back at me.
I walked through the empty medical wing, my footsteps echoing. Dawn was still an hour away. I couldn't face my room again, so I headed to the supply room instead.
Twelve minutes later, the emergency sirens screamed.
Red lights flooded the hallways. The wailing sound bounced off the walls, making my teeth ache. My wolf moved forward in panic. I brought her down hard. Betas don't react like this. Betas don't feel emergencies in their bones.
Other healers rushed out of their rooms, looking confused and scared.
"What happened?" someone asked.
"Combat trial went wrong," another healer shouted, running past us. "Critical injuries in Sector Seven."
My stomach dropped. Sector Seven. Where the elite Alphas trained.
"Vale!"
Head Healer Thorne appeared, her sharp eyes scanning us. She was a severe woman with gray streaks in her black hair and a permanent frown.
I stepped forward. "Yes, ma'am?"
"With me. Now."
I followed her at a near run. "What's going on?" I asked
"Alaric Crowne. Sabotaged equipment. Massive internal bleeding." She didn't slow down. "He needs a personal healer. You're assigned."
The air left my lungs. "Me? But I'm just second year"
"You're top of your class in internal healing. Don't argue."
We burst through the emergency wing doors. The smell hit me first. Blood. Antiseptic. And something else. Something warm like cedar and night air that made my wolf lift her head despite the suppressants.
Alaric Crowne lay on a gurney surrounded by three senior healers. Even injured, he looked dangerous. Dark hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Strong jaw clenched against pain. His shirt had been cut away, showing bruises blooming across his chest.
Then his eyes opened. Dark brown bleeding to gold. Alpha eyes.
Those eyes found mine and locked on.
Something flickered across his face. Recognition. But that was impossible. We'd never met.
His nostrils moved. I watched his wolf push forward, turning his eyes almost completely gold.
No. My suppressants were fresh. He couldn't smell anything. I was just a Beta.
"We've stopped the internal bleeding," a senior healer said to Thorne. "But he needs constant monitoring for the next seventy-two hours. Maybe longer."
"Vale will handle it," Thorne said, pushing me forward.
"I need someone experienced," the healer protested. "This is Rank One. If something goes wrong…"A sideman said
"Vale is perfectly capable." Thorne's voice was ice. She turned to me. "Report to his recovery room in thirty minutes. Pack your supplies. You'll be monitoring him around the clock."
"But…."
"He requested you specifically, Vale." Thorne's eyes narrowed. "By name."
The world tilted. The lights got too bright. Everything felt wrong.
I'd never met Alaric Crowne. Never spoken to him. Never even been near him. There was no reason for him to know my name.
"I don't understand," I whispered. "There must be a mistake."
Thorne leaned close. "Neither do I. But when Rank One asks for a healer by name while bleeding out, we don't question it. Now go pack your supplies."
She walked away, barking orders at others.
I stood frozen. My feet wouldn't move. I forced myself to look back at Alaric.
His eyes hadn't left me. Gold bled through the brown completely now. The other healers worked around him, but he only looked at me.
His chest rose and fell with labored breaths. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His hands gripped the sides of the gurney so hard his knuckles were white.
Then his lips moved. The words were too quiet for the others to hear over the chaos.
But I heard them.
My wolf heard them.
Everything inside me went cold.
"I know what you are."
My heart stopped. The room spun. I took a step back, then another.
He couldn't know. No one knew. I'd been so careful. The suppressants, the patches, the forged documents. Two years of hiding perfectly.
One of the healers adjusted his IV, and Alaric flinched. But his eyes never left mine.
"Vale!" Thorne's voice snapped from across the room. "Thirty minutes. Don't make me repeat myself."
I nodded, not trusting my voice. My legs finally moved. I turned and walked toward the door, feeling his eyes burning into my back with every step.
In the hallway, I pressed against the wall, trying to breathe. My hands shook worse than before. The suppressant injection site on my arm showed.
He knew.
Alaric Crowne knew what I was.
And somehow, he'd asked for me by name before we'd ever met.
I pushed off the wall and headed to my room. I had thirty minutes to pack supplies and figure out how to survive being locked in a room with the one person who could destroy everything.
The bond scar on my chest burned like it hadn't in months.
I pressed my hand against it and felt my dead mate's memory mix with the cedar scent still clinging to my senses.
"I'm sorry, Caelan," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."
But Caelan was gone.
And Alaric Crowne was waiting.