Inside the Alpha’s study, I was restrained like a rogue awaiting judgment.
The Blackthorne Pack did not call it punishment. They called it a “necessary offering.” But I knew the truth. This pack house was a kingdom built on power, and Alaric ruled it like an unquestioned Alpha. When he decided something mattered, even blood became tribute.
The pack healer stood beside me hesitantly, silver bowls and moonstone instruments spread across the table. His hands trembled slightly as he pressed the ritual blade against my wrist.
Pain tore through me the moment my skin split open, warm blood flowing into the carved basin beneath.
I did not make a sound.
Beyond the half-open door, I heard the healer trying once more to reason with Alaric.
“Alpha… Luna Elira’s blood carries the same rare moon-blood as Miss Nyra’s, but her heart has been weak since childhood. If too much is taken, her wolf may fall into permanent slumber. It would be safer to bring Miss Nyra before the Moon Shrine instead of forcing another transfer—”
“Enough.”
Alaric’s voice cut through the hall like an Alpha command.
Cold. Absolute.
“Your duty is to stabilize Nyra and my heir. Nothing else matters.”
Footsteps approached slowly.
The healer lowered his head immediately as Alaric entered the study.
I closed my eyes before he reached me.
“Does it hurt?”
His voice softened slightly, which somehow felt crueler than his anger.
“Endure it a little longer. It will soon be over.”
I turned my face away in silence.
There was nothing left between us worth saying.
The blood ritual continued without mercy. Bowl after bowl filled beside me while coldness spread through my limbs. By the end, my lips had turned pale blue, my body trembling as though I had been abandoned beneath winter rain.
Then a faint cough echoed from the upper floor.
Nyra.
That single sound changed everything.
Alaric immediately looked toward the stairs.
“Continue,” he ordered. “Take more.”
The healer froze in horror.
“Alpha, if we continue the extraction, her wolf may not recover. She could die from the shock—”
Alaric paused for only a moment.
Then he answered flatly,
“Nyra carries my pup. Her life comes first.”
Silence swallowed the room.
Even the guards outside lowered their heads uneasily.
The healer still looked hesitant, but I spoke before he could protest again.
“Finish it,” I whispered weakly. “Then let me leave the pack.”
Even to myself, my voice sounded distant.
For the first time, something dark flickered across Alaric’s face—not guilt, not regret. Irritation. As though my surrender had somehow ruined his control over the situation.
“Are you done causing trouble?” he said coldly. “You think you can leave this pack over something so minor?”
From upstairs, Nyra’s sweet voice drifted down softly through the mindlink.
“Alaric…”
Immediately, his attention shifted.
Without another glance at me, he turned and walked away.
The ritual continued while I lay there bleeding onto sacred stone.
**
Two days later, I woke inside the pack infirmary beneath heavy guard.
My wolf had finally collapsed from the strain.
When I opened my eyes, Alaric sat beside my bed reading territory reports as though nothing had happened. As though I had not nearly died because of him.
Our eyes met.
He did not look away.
After a long silence, he set the papers aside and lifted a bowl of medicinal broth from the table.
“I’ll feed you.”
I shook my head faintly.
“I can manage.”
This time, he allowed it.
The room remained silent except for the soft clink of the spoon against the bowl. The air felt suffocating, controlled, like even breathing required the Alpha’s permission.
Then he finally spoke again.
“Does anything hurt?”
It almost sounded like concern.
Almost.
“Can I have my communication crystal back?” I asked quietly instead.
My tone held no anger anymore.
Only exhaustion.
Something in his expression paused before he called for a servant and ordered it returned.
The crystal glowed the moment it touched my hand.
Dozens of missed mindlink requests appeared at once.
Alaric noticed immediately.
His gaze sharpened.
“Who has been trying to contact you?”
In the past, he would never have cared enough to ask.
I lowered my eyes.
“You do not know them.”
It was the safest answer.
Alaric leaned back slightly, loosening the collar of his dark tunic the way he always did when his patience began thinning.
“Elira,” he said quietly, “how long do you plan to continue this behavior?”
A warning.
Familiar and practiced.
“You think silence will earn my attention?”
Before, I would have apologized immediately. I would have forced myself smaller just to keep peace inside this pack.
This time, I simply pointed toward the glowing crystal beside him.
“It is Nyra,” I said softly. “She is calling for you.”
The change in him was immediate.
The tension vanished from his face at once, replaced by something gentler.
Without another word to me, Alaric rose and stepped outside to answer her through the mindlink.
The moment he disappeared beyond the doorway—
my crystal glowed again.
