Chapter 2

Ophelia's POV 

Elliot was dying, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

“Let me through!” My voice cracked as I ran after the pack healers carrying his limp body towards the mansion.  

“Elliot!” I shouted again. My legs felt weak, but I kept moving. “What's happening to him?!”

The healers didn’t stop. No one even looked at me. All I could see was Elliot’s pale, still face as they disappeared through the heavy oak doors of the Alpha’s mansion. 

My feet came to a sudden stop as two guards stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

“You can’t come in. Only family and the Alpha’s inner circle are allowed, ” one of them said gruffly.

“But I need to, he’s my… I…” My words broke off, and I could barely catch my breath. “Please. I must go inside.”

The other guard shook his head. “Orders from the Alpha. Family and healers only. Go home.”

Go home? How could I go home when Elliot was inside, fighting for his life? 

My mind raced, desperation pushing me to do something, anything.

And then it hit me. They didn’t have to know why I was here.

“I’ve been sent to clean the west wing,” I lied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Beta Holmes said it had to be spotless before the ceremony ends.”

The guards exchanged a glance. I held my breath, praying they would believe me.

“Fine,” one of them finally said. “But stay out of the way.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled and hurriedly walked past them before they could change their minds.

The moment I stepped inside, the air changed. The grand hall of the mansion was eerily silent, the usual hum of activity replaced with a suffocating stillness. 

My footsteps echoed on the polished floors as I hurried up the sweeping staircase, my heart hammering in my chest.

I followed the faint sound of voices down a long corridor. When I reached the room where they had taken Elliot, I hesitated, leaning against the wall just outside the door. I peeked in, careful not to be seen.

Elliot was lying on the bed, his chest barely rising and falling. He looked so fragile, so unlike the strong, fearless man I loved. My throat tightened at the sight of him.

Alpha Mason stood by the foot of the bed, his massive frame radiating tension. The pack healer hovered over Elliot, his hands moving quickly as he examined him. 

The room was filled with an unbearable silence, broken only by the healer’s low mutterings.

After what felt like an eternity, the healer straightened and turned to the Alpha. His face was hard. “Alpha Mason, his body is filled with poison.”

Poison? I felt dizzy, and my knees threatened to give out.

“Poison?” Alpha Mason repeated, his voice sharp and angry. “What kind of poison?”

The healer shook his head. “It’s unlike anything I’ve encountered. I’ve tried everything I know to neutralize it, but nothing is working. The poison is… it’s too strong.”

Alpha Mason’s fists clenched. “So what you’re telling me is that my son is dying, and there's nothing you can do?”

The healer hesitated, then lowered his head. “There’s only one who might have the antidote. The Lycan King.”

The name hit the room like a thunderclap and everyone froze. 

The Lycan King. The healer of healers. The one everyone feared, and avoided.

Memories I had long buried rushed back to me. I had known him once. Lived with him, even. If anyone could save Elliot, it was him.

Before I could stop myself, the words burst out of me. “I know him.”

Every head in the room immediately turned towards me.

Alpha Mason’s gaze darkened, and my father, who stood in the corner, looked like he wanted to throttle me.

“Why are you here?” my father growled, his face twisting in fury. “You were told to leave.”

“I know the Lycan King,” I said quickly, stepping into the room. My voice trembled, but I forced myself to keep going. “I can get the antidote.”

Alpha Mason stared at me like I had just grown another head. “You?” he said with a mocking laugh. “You think the Lycan King will listen to you?”

“Yes. He will. I can convince him.”

“You’re out of your mind,” my father snapped. “Ophelia, go home. Now!”

“No!” I shouted, turning to Alpha Mason. “Please, let me try. If there’s even a chance I can save Elliot, why wouldn’t you let me?”

Alpha Mason’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. His presence was overwhelming. “Do you have any idea what kind of man the Lycan King is? He's ruthless. He doesn’t help people. He destroys them. If you go anywhere near him, he’ll kill you before you can even speak.”

“I don’t care, Alpha. I’ll take that risk. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Alpha Mason stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed—a cold, mocking sound that made my skin crawl. 

“You’re a fool,” he said. “And I have no patience for fools.”

“Alpha, please…” I started, but my father cut me off.

“Guards!” he barked. “Get this thing out of here!”

Immediately two soldiers appeared at the door. 

“No! Wait!” I shouted, struggling as the guards grabbed my arms. “Please, just let me try! You have to let me try! I can save him!”

They didn't listen. They dragged me out of the room, my cries echoing down the hallway. 

When they finally threw me out on the cold ground outside the mansion, I sat there for a moment, shocked and shaking. But I wasn’t giving up. I couldn’t.

I stood up and ran back to my house, ignoring the stares of the pack members I passed. When I burst through the door, Melissa stepped in front of me, her arms crossed and her expression smug.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, blocking my path. “Running off to embarrass yourself again?”

“Move, Melissa,” I replied, pushing past her.

“You’re crazy!” she shouted after me. “You’ll never make it back alive!”

I ignored her and ran to my room. 

My hands trembled as I opened the drawer where I kept the pendant—the small, silver keepsake the Lycan King had given me years ago. 

I clutched it tightly, the memories flooding back. 

This was my only hope. Elliot’s only hope.

Without another word, I left the house and headed for the sacred mountains.

°°°°°

The mountains were shrouded in mist, their sharp peaks towering above me like silent guardians. The air was cold and damp, and the path was steep and treacherous. 

My legs ached with every step, but I kept climbing, the pendant clutched in my hand.

When I finally reached the entrance to the Lycan King’s domain, a group of soldiers blocked my path. Their armour shone in the faint light, and their faces were as hard as the stone cliffs around us.

“State your business,” one of them said, his voice harsh.

“I need to see the Lycan King,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

The soldier frowned. “He’s not here. Go back.”

“I know he’s here,” I insisted, stepping forward. “Please, I need to speak with him.”

The soldiers exchanged glances, their expressions hardening. “We told you, he’s not here. Leave now before you regret it.”

 “What will happen if I stay?”