Chapter 163
SILVER HOLLOW
ALEXANDER
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The gates of Silver Hollow came into view through the haze clouding my vision. My legs felt heavier with every step, as though the earth itself was trying to pull me down.
Still, I kept moving.
I’d made it this far. I wasn’t going to collapse before I reached the house.
The sentinels at the gate stiffened as soon as they saw me. One of them dropped the spear he was holding. “Alpha Alexander!” he shouted, his voice breaking through the stillness. Both of them ran toward me, panic flashing across their faces… they must have noticed I wasn’t
well.
“I’m fine,” I said before they could reach me, lifting a hand. My voice came out rough, scraped raw from the fight, but I forced strength into it. “Thank you.”
They froze mid–step, uncertain. I could see the way their eyes darted over me, searching for visible wounds, but I gave them nothing… no weakness, no stumble. Just the illusion of
control.
Pride can be a dangerous thing, but right now it was the only thing keeping me upright.
The compound spread out before me. I’d imagined this moment… returning, seeing Faye safe again… but not like this. I forced my shoulders straight and kept walking, ignoring the chill that ran through my hand when I flexed it.
Then I saw her… Faye.
She was standing near the training yard, pacing. She was in better condition now. Her head snapped up the moment I stepped into view, and for a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then her expression changed… relief, disbelief, then joy.
“Alexander,” she called my name.
The sound of it nearly brought me to my knees.
She ran toward me, her steps quick and desperate. When she reached me, she didn’t hesitate… she threw her arms around me, holding on as if she’d never let go again.
For a second, I forgot the pain. I forgot the poison. I forgot everything except her.
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Then a sharp jolt tore through my side, forcing a grimace I barely managed to hide. She didn’t see it. Thank the gods she didn’t. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight, breathing
in her scent.
“I’m here,” I whispered, my voice breaking a little. “It’s alright.”
She leaned back, looking up at me, tears still glistening in her eyes. “You’re hurt,” she said, her hands brushing over my chest, searching. “Alexander…”
“I’m fine,” I cut in quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Just tired.” How could I look her in the eyes and tell her I was dying?
She looked like she wanted to believe me. For a moment, she almost did.
But her father was standing a few feet away, watching. His gaze was sharp. He wasn’t fooled by my act. He probably saw the way I was standing a little too still, the faint tremor in my hand, the grayness under my skin that even the coat couldn’t hide.
“Alexander,” he said calmly. “You need to see the healer.”
Faye turned immediately, nodding. “He’s right. Come on, you shouldn’t be standing right
now…”
“I said I’m fine,” I tried again, but my voice faltered slightly. A flash of dizziness blurred my vision for a second, and I had to steady myself.
Faye’s hand tightened around my arm. Her eyes searched mine, fear flickering there now. Please,” she whispered. “Just… don’t argue this time.”
I looked at her for a long moment. I could have kept insisting, could have brushed it off, told her I’d do that later. But the truth was… I didn’t have the strength to fight her on this.
Finally, I exhaled, nodding once. “Alright,” I said quietly. “I’ll see the healer.”
Her relief was immediate, the tension in her shoulders softening as she guided me toward the house, and her father followed. I tried to match her pace, to make it look effortless, but every step was forced.
After Faye left the room, I unbuttoned my shirt slowly, each movement dragging like it cost more than I had left to give. The fabric clung to my skin, damp with sweat, and when it finally fell away, I saw the way Faye’s father’s expression changed.
The wound wasn’t healing. It was worse than before… the edges dark and irritated, spreading outward in thin black lines that curled along my ribs. My skin looked gray beneath the light,
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like something was eating its way through me from the inside.
He drew in a quiet, shaky breath. “How long has it looked like this?”
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“Not long after the stab,” I said. “The bleeding reduced, but the pain didn’t. It burns deeper
now.”
His eyes darkened with worry. “That’s not normal, Alexander.”
“I know.” I exhaled, resting my hand against the table to steady myself.
Before he could reply, the door opened behind us. The healer stepped in, carrying a small satchel of herbs and glass vials. She stopped short when she saw the wound, her professional calm faltering for a heartbeat before she masked it.
“What kind of weapon did this?” she asked, already setting her tools down.
“A dagger,” I said quietly. “Forged from silver… and laced with wolfsbane.”
She froze, her hand stilling mid–motion. Then, slowly, she looked at me… really looked… and shook her head. “Silver and wolfsbane together,” she murmured. “You shouldn’t even be standing right now… Sit.”
I gave a humorless smile. “That makes two of us.” I took a seat.
She crouched closer, inspecting the edges of the wound without touching it. The black veins pulsed faintly, the skin around them raw and fevered. I saw her swallow hard. “The silver prevents healing,” she said, her tone more to herself than to me. “And the wolfsbane… it spreads through the bloodstream until…”
Faye’s father clenched his fists beside me. “You can stop it, can’t you?”
The healer’s eyes softened, but her voice remained steady. “I can try to slow it, but I can’t reverse it. The combination is fatal, Alpha Alexander. There’s no antidote known to any pack… not one that’s worked.”
Her words landed like stones, heavy and cold.
She opened a vial, pouring a liquid into a cup, then mixed in crushed leaves that released a sharp, minty scent. “This will help numb the pain and clear your breathing for a few hours,” she explained gently, handing it to me. “It’ll make it easier to move, but it won’t heal you. The poison has already done the damage.”
I took the cup and drank. The bitterness hit hard… a taste that felt like ash and iron… but I forced it down.
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When I lowered the cup, her gaze lingered on me with something close to pity. “You might make it through the night if your body keeps fighting,” she said quietly, “but by morning…” She trailed off, then shook her head. “By morning, your body will give out. I’m sorry.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Faye’s father looked away, grief flickering in his eyes. I could feel the weight of it pressing down on both of us… the truth neither of us wanted to acknowledge.
And then, just as the healer turned to rinse the cup, the door creaked softly open.
Faye stood there.
Her face was pale, her eyes wide… and from the look on her face, I knew she had heard every
word.
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