ALEXANDER
I crouched beside the young man for a moment longer, my hands hovering just above him as my mind ran through the possibilities. My instincts screamed caution.
This could easily be a trap–someone testing the Blood Crescent, baiting us out, or sending a message. Taking him in without knowing anything about him was risky. A wolf–or even a human- with enemies or a hidden agenda could bring trouble straight into the heart of the pack.
I weighed the options carefully. My gaze swept across the darkness at the border, imagining every conceivable ambush. Every instinct I’d honed as Alpha told me to hesitate, to stall, to consider the
cost.
Then, almost like she had read my mind, Faye shifted closer to me. Her presence was immediate and unexpectedly persuasive. She brushed lightly against my side as she crouched a little, her
hand resting near mine.
“We can’t leave him out here,” she whispered, her voice quiet but firm, cutting through my tension.”
He’s alive, Alexander. Even if we don’t know who he is, even if it’s dangerous… we can’t just leave
him to die. Let’s take him in. By morning, we can sort things out if he wakes.”
Her words forced me to pause, made me feel the weight of her reasoning, and the truth of it settled like a stone in my chest. Leaving him there… it would have been cruel. My wolf roared at the injustice of it. My human side understood the caution, but the part of me that felt the responsibility of leadership–the part that knew what mercy looked like–pushed back.
I exhaled slowly, glancing down at the young man again. He was breathing, weakly, but alive. The decision pressed itself forward without a fight. There was no room for hesitation anymore.
“Fine,” I said quietly, my voice almost a growl–not because I wanted to, but because the choice had already been made for me. “We’ll take him in. But we stay alert. Everyone stays on guard.”
Faye gave a small nod, her expression soft but steady, and I felt the slight brush of her hand against my arm, as if to remind me we were in this together. That brief contact, that quiet assurance, was enough to settle the remaining doubt that lingered in my mind.
The guards carefully lifted the young man again, carrying him toward the pack house with as much care as if he were already one of us. I followed, my senses alert to every shadow, every movement around the perimeter. Kyle and the others remained vigilant, scanning the darkness even as we
moved.
Inside, we brought him directly to the clinic. The nurses were ready, their expressions tense, and I handed him over without hesitation. “Check him thoroughly. Every mark, every cut. Keep me informed,” I instructed, my tone sharp.
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Chapter 396
Cole lingered near the doorway, his brow furrowed, clearly ready to offer counsel or question the situation, but he seemed to be waiting.
Even with the young man safely in the clinic, my mind didn’t stop running. Who was he? Why was he left at the border, covered in dirt and blood? Was he really alone, or had someone intended for him to lead us into something? Every scenario played through my head like a series of traps I had to avoid, every potential threat weighed against the decision we’d just made.
And yet, I couldn’t shake the image of him lying there–breathing, vulnerable, needing help. My wolf, my sense of responsibility, demanded that we do what was right first and think about the
consequences second.
I turned slightly, catching Faye’s eye. She didn’t need words; I could see the unspoken question in her gaze, the quiet understanding that had pushed me into action. I gave her a small nod, almost imperceptible, and she returned it with that calm assurance I had come to rely on.
For now, that was enough. We had acted, and the rest would follow.
Dr. Adams moved in immediately, her expression sharpening into that focused edge I’d seen
before–the one she wore when a life hovered too close to the edge.
She didn’t bother with questions.
“Get me clean water. Sterile cloths. Now,” she ordered, snapping on gloves. “And someone check
his pulse again.”
One of the assistants obeyed, pressing two fingers to the side of the man’s neck. “It’s” e
reported. “But it’s there.”
Dr. Adams nodded once and began cutting away what was left of the boy’s shirt. As the fabric fell aside, my jaw tightened. The injuries were worse than I’d expected. Deep gashes crossed his torso and arms–some unmistakably from claws, others too precise, too deliberate. Dark bruising spread along his ribs and neck, and when I noticed the marks around his wrists, my unease
deepened.
Restraints.
Dr. Adams frowned. “This isn’t just a random animal attack,” she murmured.
I stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed tightly over my chest, my body rigid. Faye was beside me, silent, pale, her eyes locked on the unmoving form on the table. Cole lingered near the door, alert even here, as if the danger might bleed through the walls.
Dr. Adams worked carefully, cleaning the wounds inch by inch, wiping away blood and dirt. The room grew quiet–too quiet. The only sounds were the soft splash of water, cloth against skin, and the faint, steady beep of the monitor.
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Minutes passed.
Then more.
Nothing changed.
Dr. Adams straightened slowly, lips pressed into a thin line, and leaned closer to one of the deeper wounds on his side,
“He’s not healing,” she said.
The words hit harder than I expected.
“Not at all?” I asked, my gaze sharpening.
She shook her head. “Not even marginally. If he’s a wolf, his body should be responding by now, even in this condition. Slow healing, maybe–but this?” She gestured to the open wound. “This is static.”
I felt Faye tense beside me.
“So… he’s human?” she asked quietly.
Dr. Adams hesitated. “Possibly. He’s lost a dangerous amount of blood. A human body wouldn’t recover from this on its own.” She paused. “But it’s not that simple.”
Cole stepped forward slightly. “What do you mean?
She pulled off her gloves and scrubbed her hands again. “There are rare cases–very rare–where a wolf’s healing is suppressed. Severe trauma. Poisoning. Certain restraints. Even magic, depending on the enemies involved.” Her eyes flicked to me. “It depends entirely on what happened to him before he got here.”
I didn’t respond, but my jaw tightened. A wolf who couldn’t heal was a liability–and a mystery. A human bleeding out on my territory was a responsibility I hadn’t planned for.
Dr. Adams turned back to the table, adjusting the IV line. “For now, I have to treat him as if he’s human. Blood transfusion. Wound management. Stabilization. If he’s a wolf, his body will take what
it needs. If he’s not, this is the only way he survives.”
Faye shifted uneasily. She looked at me, then back at the man. “Is there anything else we can do to
help?”
Cole cleared his throat. “Luna healing,” he suggested carefully. “It might—”
“No,” Dr. Adams said sharply.
The firmness in her voice cut the air.
She turned to face us fully. “We don’t know what caused his injuries. We don’t know if there’s
Chapter 286
poison in his system, if his body is rejecting something, or if whatever hurt him is still affecting him Internally. Introducing that strong amount of healing energy right now could make things worse?
Faye stiffened. “Worse how?”
“If his body is fighting something,” Dr. Adams said steadily, “accelerated healing could trap it inside him. Or overwhelm his system entirely. We can’t risk it–not until we understand what we’re dealing with.”
Silence settled heavily over the room.
I watched Faye, ready to step in if she pushed back but she didn’t. She nodded slowly, even though I could tell she didn’t like it.
“Okay,” she said. “I understand.”
Dr. Adams‘ shoulders eased slightly. “Thank you,”
She went back to work, issuing instructions, preparing scans, taking samples. Everything she did was precise, practiced–but there was an unease beneath it all.
Nothing about this was normal.
As minutes stretched into an hour, the clinic became a place of controlled chaos. Outside, the pack had returned to uneasy rest. Inside, time felt suspended.
I didn’t move. My eyes stayed on the stranger’s face.
He was young–too young to be carrying wounds like these. There was something about his
stillness that unsettled me. Not weakness. Exhaustion. Like whatever fight he’d been dragged into
had taken everything he had left.
“This feels wrong,” Cole muttered beside me.
“It is,” I said. “All of it.”
Faye folded her arms loosely, hugging herself. “Someone didn’t just want him hurt,” she said softly. “They wanted him gone.”
Dr. Adams grimaced when she heard that. “Based on the blood loss alone, whoever did this didn’t expect him to survive.”
The blood transfusion began, dark red flowing steadily into his veins. We watched for any reaction.
There was none.
“He’s stable,” Dr. Adams said eventually, without relief. “For now. But unconscious. And critical.”
“What happens when he wakes up?” Cole asked.
She sighed. “If he wakes up.”
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Chapter 286
“He will, Faye said sharply.
Dr. Adams softened. “I hope you’re right.”
126 PUTA
She removed her gloves again, rubbing her temples Fatigue finally crept into her posture. “I need time. More tests. I need to understand what’s happening inside him. Until then, there’s nothing else we can do.”
“You’ll have it,” I said.
She hesitated. “There’s something else.”
All of us looked at her.
“Some of these wounds are defensive,” she said carefully. “Others are… precise. Whoever did this knew how to incapacitate without killing outright. That suggests training. Intent.”
Cole swore under his breath.
“Which means it wasn’t random,” I said.
“No,” she agreed. “It wasn’t.”
Faye looked down at the unconscious man again. “Then why leave him at the border?”
No one answered.
Eventually, Dr. Adams asked us to leave. He needed rest. She needed space. I hesitated only a
moment before nodding, casting one last look at the stranger before turning away.
The corridor outside felt colder.
“This is crazy,” Cole said quietly.
“Yes,” I replied. “It is.”
Faye looked up at me. “Whatever he is… we did the right thing.”
I held her gaze. “I hope so.”
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