Page 32 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
“Do you?” She steps closer, her voice dropping. “Then you should understand why your little fantasy about being his mate is never going to happen. He has made his choice, and it isn’t you.”
The wolf inside me growls, but I push it down. “I have no designs on Erik,” I say quietly. “The bond exists, but I respect his decision to reject it.”
For a moment, Elina looks thrown off balance. Then, her expression hardens again. “Just stay away from him. He has enough responsibilities without dealing with your...issues.”
With that, she turns on her heel and strides away, leaving me alone among the dusty tomes.
My “issues”?
I place several books back on their shelves with trembling hands. A strange heat builds in my chest—not fear, not sadness, but anger. It’s unfamiliar, almost uncomfortable. In captivity, anger was dangerous, something to be suppressed at all costs. But here, now, I feel a flicker of it burning through the numbness. I don’t try to extinguish it. Instead, I let it warm me as I make my way back to my room for lunch.
I have all my meals in my room. Maya has invited me to join her several times, but I don’t want to risk running into Erik. Being by myself is easier.
I spend the rest of the day trying not to think about Erik and Elina. I focus on my reading, but nothing makes sense.
Night falls, and with it comes a strange heaviness in my chest. I’ve been feeling sick ever since my run-in with Elina, almost as if her words did something to me physically. I drag myself to the balcony for some fresh air, but something feels wrong. My lungs burn with each breath, as if I’ve been running for hours. My wolf, usually restless at night, feels oddly subdued.
A cough builds in my throat. I try to suppress it, but it tears through me like a blade. When I pull my hand away from my mouth, it’s spattered with blood—bright red against my pale skin.
Fear spirals through me. I suddenly cough again, harder this time, doubling over with the force of it. More blood. It drips between my fingers and spatters on the stone balcony.
I stagger to my feet, stumbling toward the washbasin in my room. I need to clean this up, hide the evidence. No one can know. I will have no more tests, no more pity, no more concerned faces hovering over me.
As I’m frantically wiping the blood from my hands, a knock sounds at my door. I freeze, panic rising.
“Fiona?” I recognize the voice of Jerry, the palace healer. “Are you alright? I was passing by and I—I smelled blood.”
I curse silently. Shifter senses are too acute for secrets.
“I’m fine,” I call back, my voice raspy. “J–just a small cut.”
A pause, then: “May I come in? Just to check?”
Before I can refuse, another coughing fit overtakes me. This one is worse, leaving me gasping, clutching the basin for support. The door opens without my permission.
Jerry rushes to my side, his weathered face creasing with concern. “Goddess above,” he breathes, taking in the blood-speckled basin, my pale face, and my trembling form.
“I’m fine,” I insist weakly.
He ignores me, pressing his hand to my forehead. “You’re burning up.” His fingers move to my wrist and check my pulse. “How long has this been happening?”
“Just started tonight,” I inform him. “Please, Jerry. Don’t tell anyone.”
He frowns, guiding me to sit on the edge of my bed. “I need to examine you properly.”
“No!” The word comes out sharper than intended. I lower my voice. “No more examinations. No more tests. Please.”
Jerry’s expression softens. “Fiona, you’re not well. Your wolf feels weak—I can sense it. Something is wrong.”
“Maya is going to help me,” I whisper. “She’s found a way to remove my wolf. To make me human again.”
His eyes widen. “Is that what you want?”
“More than anything.”
Jerry sighs heavily, running a hand through his graying hair. “I think your current condition may be related to that desire.”
“What do you mean?”
