Lyra’s POV
Lyra shut the door behind her and leaned against it, trying to steady her racing heart.
The warmth of the shared meal had faded from her cheeks, replaced now by a dull heat of embarrassment.
She had eaten with him, shared a table, laughed quietly at something he’d said, and now the memory burned like fire in her mind.
It wasn’t as if she’d done it on her own.
He had asked her to sit.
He had insisted.
Still, the thought of anyone finding out made her stomach twist.
Ash had seen them together.
Damn it.
Who knew what he would say the next time their paths crossed.
Her room was thankfully close.
She hurried down the corridor, boots clicking lightly against the stone floor.
By the time she reached her door, she felt like her legs would give out.
Inside, a basin of water waited by the door.
She bent over it, splashing cool water onto her face.
The chill made her shiver and cleared some of the heat from her skin.
Her reflection rippled as she leaned back and stared at herself.
Burning with embarrassment was nothing new to her, but this… this was something else.
She let out a long sigh and turned toward the bed, but the sight of her window made her freeze.
It was wide open.
The last thing she remembered was closing it.
Now it swung freely, curtains billowing in the wind.
Her stomach tightened as she scanned the room.
Nothing appeared to be missing at first, but the unease settled into her chest like a stone.
Someone had been here.
She swallowed.
Her hands itched for a weapon, something to hold, anything to make her feel safe.
Should she alert the guards?
Should she go to the Alpha?
Or Ash?
Her mind raced.
Anyone entering her room was a violation, and at Blackthorn, that could mean danger in more ways than one.
Before she could decide, a soft knock came at her door.
She jumped, her pulse spiking.
Another knock followed, slightly louder this time.
Her hand brushed the edge of the table, searching instinctively for something to defend herself.
Slowly, she crept toward the door, heart hammering, and opened it just a crack.
The figure standing there made her body relax almost immediately.
It was the pack doctor.
His expression was calm but alert, his eyes flicking briefly to her hands, as if he’d expected her to be armed.
She straightened, trying to hide the trembling in her fingers.
“Doctor,” she said softly, giving a small nod of greeting.
“I — I did not expect anyone at this hour.”
He offered a faint, wry smile.
“Neither did I,” he replied.
“But it seems Blackthorn has its own way of keeping us busy.”
She hesitated, then opened the door fully, her eyes darting toward the open window again.
“I… someone might have been in my room, doctor.
The window, it was open,” she whispered.
“I do not know if anything was taken, but it was definitely open when I returned.
I remember shutting it before leaving earlier.”
He frowned and tilted his head, studying her carefully, then looked around the room.
“Did you touch anything?” he asked.
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head.
“I only washed my face.
I did not move anything else.”
His gaze softened slightly.
“Good,” he said, his voice calm but firm.
“We cannot afford mistakes.
You must leave everything as it is until the guards investigate.
I will tell the guards and Ash about the window.”
She nodded, feeling a little relief at his reaction, though her heart still pounded in her chest.
” I just did not know who to tell.
I did not want to bother anyone unnecessarily.”
He shook his head gently.
“You did the right thing.
Always report something like this immediately.
It could be nothing, or it could be dangerous,” the doctor told her.
She hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of her tunic.
“I am sorry to bother you with this at night,” she muttered.
He let out a low, amused sigh.
“You are not bothering me.
Besides, you are my apprentice now.
And, in case you have forgotten, you are the head cook.
It is your duty as much as mine to notice things like this.”
She blinked at him, startled by the reminder.
“Yes, of course.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly.
“By the way, you can call me Lothian.
You do not have to say ‘doctor’ all the time.”
She froze for a moment.
“Lothian?”
“Yes, that’s my name,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
“We are not in a formal lecture, Lyra.
Call me Lothian.”
Her cheeks warmed.
“Of course.
Lothian.” She swallowed, the name feeling strange yet familiar on her tongue.
He nodded, satisfied.
“Good.
Now, we need to finish what we started.
Come with me.
The potion is waiting, and we have work to do.”
Lyra nodded and gathered her things, following him down the quiet hallways.
Her mind spun.
She could not shake the image of the open window.
Who had come in?
Why now?
And if it was nothing, why did it feel like a warning?
The infirmary was warm, smelling faintly of herbs and potions.
Shelves lined the walls, filled with glass jars, clay pots, and neat bundles of dried plants.
She placed her basket of herbs, collected earlier from the kitchen stores, on the table, watching as Lothian carefully laid out the ingredients he’d already prepared.
The soft scent of crushed herbs filled the room, mingling with the faint smell of salve.
“Start with the ashvine leaves,” Lothian instructed, his tone calm but precise.
“Crush them slowly.
We do not want to release everything at once.
The potion must be precise.”
Her fingers worked carefully, grinding the leaves into a fine powder, feeling the texture shift beneath her fingertips.
Lyra glanced up at him.
“I have added some of the herbs into his meals,” she said quietly, almost to herself, her voice tinged with worry.
“It should help wean the poison out gradually.
The full antidote will finish the process.”
He looked up sharply, then nodded, approving.
“Good.
You are thinking ahead.
That is exactly why I agreed to work with you.
It is risky, but necessary.”
She bit her lip.
“I just… I cannot risk him getting worse.
I need to make sure it works,” Lyra muttered.
Lothian studied her for a moment, his face unreadable.
“And you will.
You are careful, and you understand the consequences if you make a mistake.
That is why you are here with me now,” he said.
She hesitated, then asked, “Do we have everything for the full portion?”
He gestured to the ingredients on the table.
“Not yet.
We would need more root of Marrowvine.
It is rare, but essential.
It stabilizes the antidote and prevents side effects from the ashvine.”
Her brow furrowed.
“I will need to collect it from the storage room.
Only a small portion, correct?”
“Yes,” Lothian said.
“No more than two pinches per batch.
Any more, and it will disrupt the balance.
But we can work with the one we have for now.”
She carefully measured the crushed ashvine powder, then looked at him.
“What about the Bloodpetal extract?”
Lothian nodded.
“Already in the mixture.
It will help strengthen his system and counteract some of the lingering effects of the poison.
But timing is important.
Add it after the Marrowvine is fully integrated.”
She paused for a moment, thinking aloud.
“If we make a full portion now, will it be enough to reverse all the poison in his system?”
He met her gaze.
“It will.
If we do this correctly.
You have already been careful with his meals.
That means the poison’s effects are weaker than they could have been.
This potion is the final step.”
She nodded, feeling a little relief, though her nerves were still tight.
“And if I make a mistake?”
“Then we start again,” he said calmly.
“But I trust you.
You have good instincts, and you have been cautious.”
She exhaled slowly.
“I just… I want him safe.
I cannot let anything happen.” she muttered.
Lyra knew that Lothian would not understand why she desperately needed Ronan to be okay, and alive.
How could she explain it to him, to anyone, that the Alpha was her mate.
Her wolf would shatter if anything happened to him.
She couldn’t suffer another heartbreak.
Her wolf wouldn’t survive it.
Lothian gave a small smile, almost hidden.
“Do not underestimate yourself.” He muttered.
She blushed slightly, still measuring the next set of herbs.
“I will be careful.
I promise.”