Another beat of silence.
Then Janson stepped back. "What do you need?" he asked.
Relief hit Raine. "Privacy," Raine said. "And cooperation. When I ask for something, I need it immediately."
Janson nodded. "You’ll have it."
As if summoned by the words, the two warriors returned with the items she had requested—cold water, clean cloths, a bowl, crushed ice wrapped in cloth, and herbs from the pack’s storage.
Alpha Janson did not leave the room. He stood near the window like a statue, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching every movement she made. The two warriors remained as well, silent and tense, waiting for instructions.
"Do exactly what she says," Janson ordered them. "No questions."
"All right," she said, already moving. "Set the water there. Cloths on the table."
Raine dipped a cloth into cold water and wrung it out with steady hands. "Hold his shoulders. If he shifts mid-fever, he’ll break something," she told one of the warriors quietly. The man obeyed without hesitation this time. Raine pressed the cool cloth to Landon’s forehead. He hissed. "Hold it," she whispered. "Hold it." She moved the cloth to his neck. His wrists. Under his jaw.
Landon’s fever had peaked. His body had shaken, muscles tensing as if fighting an invisible enemy. Twice, he had nearly shifted—his claws barely breaking through skin before retreating. It was silver poisoning. Raine pressed the cloth to his chest. "Don’t fight it," she murmured. "Let your body purge."
Raine shifted her gaze to the warriors waiting for further instructions. "I need the silverleaf crushed—not torn."
One of the warriors hesitated. "Silver—"
"—is poison in powder form," Raine said without looking up. "But medicinal when bonded with frostroot. Trust me."
They exchanged glances, then complied, following the Alpha’s order. They crushed silverleaf into a paste and added frostroot as she instructed.
Raine worked quickly but carefully; her movements were practiced and precise. She soaked cloth after cloth in cold water mixed with crushed herbs, replacing them as soon as they absorbed Landon’s body heat and his fever subsided.
His skin felt hot beneath her hands, his fever unnatural and aggressive—as if something were fighting for its life inside him.
For the first time since she was dragged onto the auction platform, Raine understood the gravity of her decision. This wasn’t just about survival anymore.
"Easy," she murmured as his body jerked faintly.
She placed her palm over his sternum and closed her eyes. Her magic responded immediately. It flowed warm and steady, spreading outward in measured waves. She didn’t push—not yet. Pushing could shatter what little balance he had left. Instead, she guided his chaotic system, helping to stabilize and realign it.
Minutes stretched into hours. Sweat soaked through Raine’s clothes, her hair sticking to the back of her neck. Her hands trembled slightly from the sustained use of her magic, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Not with her life at stake. She continued replacing cloths, checking his pulse, and forcing small amounts of water past his lips when he could swallow.
Landon groaned softly. His breathing gradually slowed from frantic gasps to a steadier rhythm. The dark veins along his neck throbbed once or twice, then stopped. Their spread had finally halted.
Raine stood up, straightening her back, her chest heaving. "Fever’s breaking," she said quietly.
Janson stepped forward instantly. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "It will take time, but the worst has passed." She wiped her brow with the back of her wrist and checked Landon’s temperature again. Still too warm—but no longer dangerous.
Alpha Janson stepped closer to the bed and placed a hand lightly on his son’s forehead. He confirmed that his son was no longer burning up. Janson’s expression shifted, revealing a hint of relief. He slowly straightened up.
Five hours after she had first touched him, Landon finally slept. Not the restless, pained half-consciousness he had been trapped in before—but real sleep.
Raine sat back in the chair beside the bed. Her shoulders ached, exhaustion washing over her like a wave.
Janson watched her carefully. "Shifters don’t usually get fevers," he said.
"They don’t," Raine replied. "It means something dangerous was actively weakening his system."
Alpha Janson’s eyes darkened. "Leave us," he ordered the warriors. They obeyed immediately. The door shut, and only the three of them remained.
Janson’s jaw tightened. "Explain what you meant."
Raine hesitated, then stood. "Someone has been poisoning him."
The room went very still.
"Whatever poison they are using, they have added silver powder," she continued. "Small doses. Enough to suppress his healing and accelerate the poison without killing him directly."
Janson’s eyes flashed. "Silver is restricted."
"Which is why it worked," Raine said. "It wasn’t accidental. Whoever did this knew exactly how much to use—and how often."
Janson turned sharply. "You’re saying there’s a traitor in my pack."
"Yes. The silver concentration is too controlled. Too consistent. Small doses over time. It had to be administered regularly. Most likely in his food."
Janson’s hands curled into fists. "That means someone in my inner circle."
Raine nodded. "Yes, I think so."
The tension in the air was palpable.
"I’m not accusing," she said. "I’m stating a fact. Only someone with direct access to his meals could manage that."
Janson began pacing slowly. "No one would dare."
"Yet, someone did," Raine said in a low voice.
The Alpha’s wolf stirred beneath the surface—she could feel the power in the room tightening. "I will find them," he said quietly.
"I don’t doubt that."
Silence stretched heavy and dangerous.
"I will find them," Janson repeated, his voice low with promise and then studied her. "Are you certain of this?"
"Yes," she said. "The poisoning caused the fever."
He nodded. "I’ll handle it." Then his gaze sharpened again. "But don’t think I trust you."
Raine met his stare evenly. "I wouldn’t dream of it."
Janson’s eyes flicked briefly to his sleeping son. "Five hours," he said. "No healer has lasted that long, yet you’re young for a healer. You’re the youngest healer I’ve brought here," he said. "And the first to show progress."
"How many before me?" Raine asked.
Janson didn’t answer immediately, but she waited.
"Ten," he said at last.
Her stomach dropped. "What happened to them?"
His expression didn’t change. "I executed them." The words were calm and casual. "For failing," Janson continued. "For wasting time. For lying."
Raine felt cold spread through her chest. She swallowed. "And none of them noticed the poisoning?"
"No."
For a moment, it seemed Janson might say something else. Then—
A low sound came from the bed. Landon shifted slightly and both turned instantly.
Landon’s brow furrowed, and his breath hitched before returning to normal. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Disoriented, he blinked, and his gaze drifted until it landed on Raine.
He woke up. She was saved.