"Fiona used to braid my hair every morning." Ivy's voice breaks. "She'd tell about the boys she liked, about her dreams of becoming a teacher. She never stopped treating like just... ."
A tear slides down her temple, disappearing into her hair. My chest tightens at the raw pain in her voice.
"Jas was the funny one. He'd make these terrible jokes during pack etings. Once, in second grade, he..." She draws a shuddering breath. "He put a rubber snake in Clayton's desk, and my brother shrieked like a child. Everyone laughed. I hated him, because Clayton was my hero. But then they beca best friends after that. At so point, I stopped hating him."
Her grip tightens, and I let her anchor herself to . Whatever it is in her system pulses against my magic, as if testing it. Beneath it, I sense sothing else—genuine grief, sharp and jagged.
"And David." Her voice drops to a whisper. "He was going to propose to his mate. Had the ring picked out and everything. He showed it to the morning before..."
She breaks off with a sob that wracks her whole body. Without thinking, I squeeze her hand back.
"I should have protected them all better." The words tumble out between gasping breaths. "They trusted . And now they're dead because I wasn't strong enough."
"You couldn't have known—"
"Don't." Her eyes snap open, fever-bright and desperate. "Don't tell it wasn't my fault. Don't tell there was nothing I could do. I've heard it all before and it doesn't help."
I fall silent, understanding completely. Sotis platitudes just make the guilt worse. She's an accomplished warrior, trained by her pack. Trying to minimize her pain is more of an insult than a comfort.
Her fingers clutch mine so hard it hurts, but I don't pull away. Touch grounds us, connects us. Right now, that connection might be the only thing keeping her from drowning in her grief.
"I see their faces every ti I close my eyes," she whispers. "I hear their screams. Feel their pack bonds snap. Over and over and over."
The taint surges with her distress, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling her about it. Not now. Not when she's this vulnerable, this raw.
Her other hand finds my arm, gripping it like a lifeline. "How do you do it? How do you keep going when everything hurts so much?"
The question hits hard. How do I keep going? Through the abuse, my mother's rejection, my father's manipulation—through all of it, I just... did. Because stopping wasn't an option.
It wasn't always pretty, and there's so much I regret. But I kept going.
"You breathe," I tell her softly. "You take it one mont at a ti. And you honor their mory by living the life they'd want for you."
Her fingers spasm against mine. "Do you know what happened out there?"
"No."
Her eyes stare into mine. Hunted. Frightened. Shadowed with the deaths of wolves she considered family. "I'm not sure I do, either."
My blood turns to ice. "What do you an?"
"Everything's... fuzzy." Ivy's grip tightens on my hand. "We were on the route. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then—" She shakes her head, wincing. "Pain. So much pain. And darkness."
The taint pulses against my magic again, stronger this ti. I force myself to stay still, to not react.
"I rember running." Her voice drops to barely a whisper. "But I don't know what from. Or to. Just... running. And screaming. But I don't know if it was or—" She breaks off with a choked sound.
"Take a breath." I squeeze her hand. "You're safe now."
"Am I?" Her eyes lock onto mine, fever-bright but lucid. "Sothing's wrong with . I can feel it. Like there's sothing inside , clawing to get out."
My heart pounds. She knows. On so level, she knows about the taint.
"When did it start?"
"After the attack. Maybe during?" She shivers despite her fever. "Everything changed."
Ivy's eyes roll back, and her head lolls to the side. Just like that—as if soone flipped a switch. Her grip on my hand goes slack, her fingers sliding away from mine.
"Ivy?"
No response. Her chest rises and falls in the steady rhythm of deep sleep. The taint inside her pulses once, twice, then settles into a dormant state.
The door creaks open behind . Vanessa's footsteps approach, accompanied by the soft clink of dical supplies.
"She fell asleep in the middle of our conversation." I turn to face Vanessa. "One second she was talking about feeling sothing inside her, clawing to get out, and the next..."
Vanessa's brow creases. She sets down her supplies and presses two fingers to Ivy's throat, checking her pulse. "That's not normal. Even with the fever, people don't typically drop off mid-sentence like that."
"Could it be exhaustion?"
"Maybe." But her frown deepens as she checks Ivy's temperature. "Did she say anything else before she fell asleep?"
"She talked about her escort team. About not rembering parts of the attack." I pause, debating how much to share. "And she ntioned feeling different afterward. Like sothing changed inside her."
Vanessa's hands still against Ivy's forehead. "Different how?"
"She couldn't explain it clearly. But she knows sothing's wrong."
I watch Ivy's face, peaceful in sleep. No hint of the tornt she'd shown minutes ago. No trace of that desperate grip on my hand or the raw pain in her voice.
"I think she ca into contact with the taint. But sothing's not right about it." My voice barely rises above a whisper, even though the woman's asleep and unable to hear .
Vanessa turns, tilting her head to the side as she listens. "What do you an?"
"Whatever's inside her..." I press my fingers to my temples. "It's too strong to be a light corruption. I felt it surge multiple tis while we talked. But it's different. The taint always feels mindless. Aggressive, even. This feels more... controlled."
"Then perhaps it's not the taint at all." The healer reaches for her stethoscope, then pauses. "Could it be sothing else? A magical illness?"
"Grimoire?" I direct my thoughts inward. What do you think?
His presence stirs in my mind. I need to conduct a full examination to be certain. But if this were a light corruption, you shouldn't be able to sense its fluctuations so clearly. This is strange, indeed.
"You felt what I was feeling?"
Through our connection, yes. The surges aligned with her emotional peaks—particularly when she spoke of her lost pack mbers.
Selene interrupts. I will bring the book to you. You can do your examination then.
"I don't know," I finally answer Vanessa, who waits patiently as she watches my face.
She nods to acknowledge my words before pressing the stethoscope against Ivy's chest, her movents precise and thodical. The silence stretches, broken only by Ivy's steady breathing.
"What do you know about the attack?" My voice cos out softer than intended. "About what happened to her escort team?"
Vanessa removes the stethoscope and drapes it around her neck. "Not much. Alpha and Beta have been handling the investigation personally." She tucks a blanket around Ivy's shoulders. "All I know is they found signs of a struggle, but no bodies."
No bodies. That's strange.
"Her heart rate's elevated." She makes a note on her chart. "And her temperature's still climbing."
Whatever's inside Ivy pulses again, as if responding to Vanessa's words. Stranger still.
I need to understand what happened out there. What turned a routine escort mission into a massacre that left Ivy the sole survivor. Sothing inside of insists that this strange darkness within the Shadowpine she-wolf has sothing to do with it.
It isn't even like I know much about what happened, but sothing deep inside of insists that sothing strange is going on. That I need to look into this.
It's nothing more than a hunch, but I know I'm right.
"I should talk to Lucas." I need to know what they found. What clues the investigation turned up that might explain this controlled corruption festering inside her.
Where do you want this book? Selene's voice cuts through my thoughts.
Bring Grimoire here. Set him near Ivy. I glance at the small table beside her bed. He can observe her while we're gone.
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