Two

Twelve hours later

The monitors beeped like a countdown as they lifted me into the ambulance. My body was giving up, no matter how much I wanted to fight it. Every sound hit like a ticking clock.

Crystal gripped my hand. Her voice cut through the fog of pain. “Hold on, Eve. You’re going to make it.”

I wanted to believe her, but pain stabbed through my chest. I wasn't just afraid; I was humiliated. I had been strong, feared, respected, and now I was nothing more than a body in a metal box, breathing because tubes said I could.

Of all the people who could betray me, it had to be my own husband. The man I’d raised, honored, trusted so completely I never believed he’d turn into an ungrateful bastard. The one who destroyed me wasn’t an enemy at the gate; it was the man who used to kiss my scars. And as if that wasn’t enough, what was left of my body was being dragged on a stretcher, begging for help from the monster responsible for my parents’ deaths. The irony burned like poison. I tasted it with every breath.

I shivered under the blankets, betrayed by my own body. Wasn’t I defiling my parents’ memory by coming here, begging for life from those I swore to punish?

Crystal’s hand tightened on mine like she could hear what I was thinking. I tried to squeeze back but was too weak.

Hands surrounded me as the ambulance stopped. They lifted me carefully, and I gave in to them, each shudder and groan exposing my weakness.

We’d reached the Metropolitan Care Center, owned by that evil bastard himself, and I was completely powerless. Every wall, guard, and breath reeked of his control. The wheels screeched across the tiles as Crystal and the medics rolled me through the sliding glass doors. I tried to keep my eyes open, but the hall stank like every fear and failure in the world had been poured into one bottle.

Crystal hurried to the front desk. She slid a receipt over, proof of the fat bribe she’d paid to get me treated as high-risk. Her tone was sharp enough to cut glass. “She’s losing air; she doesn’t have time.”

I tried to catch the receptionist’s words. Something about “low-blood werewolf” floated in my ears, dripping with disdain. Even dying, that familiar sting of fury hit. Their tone always changed when they realized we weren’t Lycans, like we were strays that wandered too far into their palace.

All around us, patients and families slumped in chairs, some pacing, others staring at screens with faces white as linen. Nurses and medics rushed by, pushing more stretchers. Every second told me someone would die before I got a bed.

Crystal’s voice cut through it all, demanding an emergency call to the King.

The receptionist smirked. “Another werewolf who thinks she’s special. High-risk or not, we have rules. Don’t think paying a few coins makes her worth more than anyone else.”

Crystal’s voice went cold. “Your rules are the reason half this damn wing smells like death.” She leaned in close. “And that ‘few coins’ you’re sneering at? That’s triple your salary.”

A few patients turned to look. The receptionist smiled again. “Typical. Always barking, never biting.”

I wanted to tell Crystal to save her strength because I was dying anyway, but my throat was useless. Weakness washed over me again, and the monitor screamed my fragility for everyone to hear.

Crystal had to bribe another nurse for a “treatment f*e” that didn’t exist. Every patient who came through those glass doors had a heartbeat with a price tag. The ones who couldn’t pay were left to rot. No one cared who lived, only who could afford to. Even the goddess herself wouldn’t have gotten past that counter without cash.

Finally, after enough cursing, begging, and a third envelope sliding across the counter, they wheeled me down a narrow corridor. “Critical care.”

The stretcher wheels screeched as we rolled past other patients. The nurse muttered something about a “routine checkup,” but there was nothing routine about a place people came to die.

“Where’s the King? Isn’t he supposed to do the exam himself?”

“He hasn’t arrived yet. You can wait for him if you think I'm not competent enough,” the doctor, an older Lycan with silver streaks in his hair, said flatly.

“Wait? She can’t even breathe!”

I felt the fury rising in Crystal’s aura. Her silence after that was more dangerous than her shouting.

They rolled me again, my vision blurring in and out. Then suddenly, a shift.

Even half-conscious, I felt the change in energy. It wasn’t sound or motion; it was gravity bending toward someone who didn’t need an announcement.

Crystal muttered under her breath, “So the royal asshole finally decides to show up.”

The nurses straightened instantly, heads bowed, whispers of “Your Majesty” falling over each other. He walked in surrounded by his entourage, every step radiating power and control. The sound of his boots on the tiles stirred my wolf before I even saw him. It was instinct, an ancient recognition buried deeper than memory.

Crystal stepped forward, her voice sharp enough to cut through the reverent silence. “Your Majesty, my friend is dying! She’s all I have left. Please, help her!”

The nurse Crystal had bribed tried to pull her back.

“Your Majesty, Elder Lucien should be treated first,” she said, pointing to some old man in a wheelchair texting on his damn phone.

“Seriously? SHE IS DYING!” Crystal yelled.

“Enough,” Axel’s voice was icy. “Do you think the world revolves around your friend?”

Crystal blinked. “Excuse me?”

He turned fully toward her. “Look around,” he said, gesturing lazily at the crowd of half-dead patients. “See them? They all think they’re the only ones dying. You’re not special. Neither is she.”

His tone didn’t rise or fall; it didn’t need to. Every word dropped like a verdict.

Crystal’s jaw trembled. “You son of a—”

Gasps rippled through the hall.

“Finish that,” Axel said, voice like a blade, “and you’ll be next on a stretcher.”

For a long moment, no one breathed.

Then he stepped closer to my stretcher, frown carved deep.

“Who arrived first, her or the Elder?”

The nurse hesitated, muttering that we had.

The same doctor who checked me earlier stammered, “But, Your Majesty, the Elder—”

Axel turned his head. “Do I look like I care who the Elder is?”

“No, sir.”

Then he faced Crystal again. “Don’t mistake justice for mercy,” he said coldly. “There won’t be a repeat of this nonsense.”

Even the air obeyed him. The hallway shrank under the weight of his presence.

His gaze fell on me. Tall, powerful, black hair slicked back, trimmed beard, jagged scar along his jaw, and eyes—silver, almost unnatural. They didn’t blink. They dissected, evaluated, and discarded.

As he neared, something wild filled my lungs. My wolf stirred. She’d been silent for weeks, barely breathing. Now she thrashed, clawing beneath my skin.

What is that scent? she cried in my head. Then louder, frantic. Our mate. Our mate is here.

No. It couldn’t be.

Not him.

Not that heartless bastard.

My mind screamed denial, but my body betrayed me, trembling with recognition older than pain. The bond wasn’t tender; it was a decree from the universe I couldn’t refuse.

The sacred bond meant to be a blessing now crawled through my veins like a curse.

My wolf pushed toward him, and as she did, I felt life flooding back in violent surges.

He’s healing us, she whispered, half in awe, half in hunger.

I wanted to scream. To shove her away. To tell her she was insane.

How could the same monster who slaughtered my family be the one the goddess chose for me? The man whose armies burned my home stood inches from my face, and the goddess had the audacity to call it fate.

Axel showed no emotion, no flicker that he felt the same agony that tore through me. His silver eyes were cold, like he’d forgotten what warmth meant. If he sensed the bond, he buried it under command and indifference.

The force of it hit me hard. My body convulsed; bones seemed ready to rip free. The sound that tore from my throat wasn’t human. It was the cry of a soul claimed without consent.

Crystal screamed beside me, her hands pressing down on my shoulders. “Eve! Stay with me!”

But her voice faded into the distance. All I could see was him.

The beast I swore to destroy.

The beast my soul already belonged to.