Chapter Seven
Seraphina
My breath caught in my throat as I watched Tyler slice the blade across David’s palm.
“Tyler—what are you doing?” My voice erupted, laced with disbelief and panic constricting my throat. Horror washed over me as the terrible realization sank in: he was infecting himself.
I lunged forward, urgency propelling me as I wrapped a towel around his bleeding hand. “What have you done?” I exclaimed, fear clawing at my insides.
“Will you please heal me?” he asked, his voice echoing through the air, a strange calmness amidst the doubt around me. A smile tugged at his lips, attempting to thaw the harsh atmosphere around us. My heart raced as I caught the glimmer in his cerulean eyes—the weight of overwhelming trust resting there.
Amidst the whirlwind of suspicion encircling me, I found strength in Tyler’s unwavering faith. He had risked his health to prove that my skills could be trusted—a light in this cloying uncertainty.
With that in mind, I leaped into action. Ushering him into the empty bed beside David, I instructed him. “Lay down. We don’t know how quickly the infection will hit you.”
He followed my instructions.
“Kelly?” I called one of the infirmary aides over. My voice took on a resolute tone. “Disinfect the blade at once. I need my cutting board and the potion bottle cleaned, too. And bring plenty of boiling water over here.”
I felt the prickling sensation of being watched, my instincts flaring as Linda’s assessing gaze bore down on me. Her eyes held a fierce intensity, and I was worried she was going to interrupt me. But she didn’t hinder me, perhaps recognizing the gravity of the situation at hand. After all, Tyler’s life hung in the balance.
When Kelly returned with the tools, vibrant energy surged through me. I turned to the herbal supplies I’d set up on the table in the center of the infirmary. I drew the first array of the herbs I’d brought from the Shadow Moon Pack from their wrappings. The two herbalism students, curious sparks in the otherwise dim room, began asking questions about my method.
“That’s kulvich, right?” Kelly asked, her voice rising with interest.
“Yes,” I affirmed as I chopped, the knife’s edge biting into the fragrant herb, releasing its peppery aroma into the air. “It has anti-inflammatory properties like the kuppik you’re using. But in a tea form, it’ll have a more immediate effect on lowering the fever.”
“What’s that one?” Laura inquired as she passed by, enthusiasm painting her features.
“Palliks,” I explained, my fingers deftly handling the cottony leaves.
Laura frowned slightly. “Isn’t that for sleep?”
“It is,” I nodded, focusing on the task. “But in potion-making, it connects the spellcaster to the otherworldly. The tiny bit of palliks in this concoction will help me form a bridge to the Moon goddess’s power.” As I spoke, I stole a glance at Tyler. It had only been about fifteen minutes since his self-inflicted wound, and the clamminess of his skin sent a fresh wave of urgency coursing through me, a reminder of the stakes involved. I saw that the other packmates in the infirmary were watching his condition deteriorate, too.
Carefully, I pulled the last herb from its wrappings—spray-lilies, pristine and delicate. I plucked the flowers, keeping them whole, their sweetness a stark contrast to the bitter taste of the rest of my mixture. Pouring hot water into the potion bottle, I watched the colors swirl together, a mix of hope and power.
Setting my crystals in a circle around the brewing concoction, I focused my energy. The familiar ebb and flow ran through me as I infused the mixture with magic. With anticipation, I whispered the ancient incantations, “ Saya uki kaumma tapiktuk .” With each syllable, a pulse of energy surged around me, lighting the blend until it shimmered with vitality.
“Is it true the Shadow Moons harvest the herbs under the dark moon?” Kelly asked, her eyes sparkling with intrigue.
“Yes, they are far more potent that way,” I said with a smile, memories of nights spent in the woods flitting through my mind. Selina, Lyvia, and I had gathered herbs by moonlight together. Those nights seemed instilled with friendship. “Sometimes, the Shadow Moons celebrate under the dark moon,” I told Kelly, “making a night of it, with dancing and wine—”
My words were cut short as the air shifted. Linda had approached quietly, her presence breaking up our rapport. “Aren’t there packmates you should be attending to, Kelly?” she interrupted.
I shot an apologetic glance at her, but she shrugged nonchalantly. My focus returned to the deepening hues of my potion, a rich green emerging as I strained the mixture into a cup. Adrenaline spiked as I advanced toward Tyler’s bedside.
His eyes fluttered open, dimmer than usual but still alight with determination. “Just resting my eyes,” he murmured, the weight of fatigue thickening his voice. For a moment, the sleep-heavy tone made me think of nights when he’d dozed off beside me on the couch when we watched movies. Except then, I’d stolen as many glances as I could, feasting on the intimate sight of Tyler sleeping.
I forced the past from my mind. “I want you to drink all of this,” I urged, offering the cup. His hands closed around it.
But as I guided the cup to his lips, I saw Logan rising from his chair, his face a mask of distrust. I sighed, frustration coursing through me. There was no respite from his incessant hostility.
“One moment,” I said, taking the cup back. I took a gulp from the cup before swallowing it down. “Happy?” I shot a glare in Logan’s direction.
He relented, slumping into his chair with a scowl, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“It’s entirely safe for you, Alpha Tyler,” I emphasized, shifting my attention back to him.
“I never had any doubt,” he replied, holding my gaze with an intensity that ignited a flutter in my stomach. The world around us faded as he took a sip, followed by another. Moments later, I felt a surge of energy as the fever that had begun to envelop him retreated, leaving behind only a light sheen of sweat.
Ten minutes later, Kelly came over and confirmed what my magic already sensed. “Your vitals are stable,” she exclaimed, measuring Tyler’s pulse and heart rate. “Your cure worked, Seraphina.”
A wave of relief washed through the room, lifting the weight of uncertainty from my shoulders. Whispers of awe blossomed among the gathered pack members as they approached, marveling at the transformation Tyler had undergone. Their eyes softened, hope replacing the trepidation that had clouded their hearts moments before.
As time slipped by, I lost myself in the rhythm of healing—the chopping of herbs and steeping them. With each batch, I infused the elixirs with magic and intent. Tyler, an enthusiastic advocate for my work, navigated Linda and returned with supplies from the closet.
Meanwhile, Linda, Kelly, and Laura administered the tea to those who were conscious.
By late afternoon, those with only mild cases were sitting up, their fever dissipating. The more serious cases who were unconscious, like David, would require the tea to be fed to them intravenously. Though I held out hope that my remedy would mend them as well, I had to leave it to Linda and the aides to set up the medical equipment for their treatment.
As the afternoon shadows began to fall in the infirmary, I felt a creeping exhaustion settle over me.
At that moment, Tyler approached me. “Can you come with me a moment?”
“What is it?” I asked, frowning, already thinking about the next batch I needed to start to prepare.
But he only gestured for me to follow. I trailed him to the sink. “Wash your hands,” he instructed as we went to the sink in the corner. I followed his instructions after he’d washed up, too.
He exited the infirmary and put on his coat. I followed suit. We wandered out into the afternoon, its biting chill making me snuggle deeper into my coat.
I realized Tyler likely wanted the rundown on what had really caused the packmate’s illness. I glanced around, wondering if this was the place to discuss it. Currently, there wasn’t anyone around.
But Tyler surprised me. “You need to eat something,” he ordered, pulling out a chocolate bar from his pocket.
My stomach growled as if my wolf were suddenly out in the open.
Chocolate had always been my weakness—a sweet indulgence I simply couldn’t resist.
I moistened my lips, my fingers eagerly unwrapping the bar. I snapped off a chunk, enjoying the sweet, sugary goodness as it melted in my mouth. “Mmmm,” I sighed with satisfaction. “Thanks,” I added, glancing at him.
I licked my lips. Tyler’s eyes darkened with a hungry look that I was sure had little to do with chocolate and everything to do with me. That thought had my heartbeat thumping into overdrive.
“So,” I said, suddenly needing to look anywhere but Tyler. I fixated on the landscape as if trying to melt the snow with the intensity of my stare. “It’s going better in there than I thought it would.”
As I ate another piece of chocolate, I couldn’t help but reminisce about how much the taste made me think of Tyler. It was during those early months of staying with him, after my parents had died that he had coaxed me back into the world, in part, with chocolate.
He had known it was my favorite—and the baking sessions he’d instigated had almost always been something chocolaty. This simple act of giving me chocolate now felt heavier, charged with memories of the comfort he’d gifted me in the past.
He cleared his throat. I chanced a glance at him, relieved to see he was now staring out at the snowy rooftops and trees, too. “It is—thanks to you, Seraphina.”
My stomach fluttered at the way he said my full name. There was a softness and sensuality in it that made my cheeks flush. I pretended to be cold, burrowing my face into the neckline of my fluffy coat.
But it wasn’t only thanks to me. Tyler had risked his own health so that others would trust me. He’d convinced the packmates that I was worthy of their trust.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself to speak the words that had been weighing on my heart. “Thank you for risking your health to sway the pack. They wouldn’t have trusted me without you.” I took another nibble, battling the swell of emotions threatening to engulf me whole.
Thankfully, there were packmates coming toward the infirmary. Ollie, a middle-aged packmate with a scruffy beard, surprised me as he greeted both of us, “Tyler, Seraphina. Is it true?” he hurried on. “That you’ve found a cure for the illness?”
I quickly fielded his question, not wanting him to get his hopes up prematurely. “It’s early days yet,” I cautioned, “But those with mild cases of the illness are responding well. We’re tentatively hopeful that after a few days of treatment, we might see the same thing in the more serious cases.” Ollie’s mate, Neave, was one of those serious cases being fed through intravenous drip, so I didn’t want to make promises I couldn’t keep.
But Ollie smiled and held out his hand, grasping mine. “Thank you, Seraphina. Thank you so much.” The tears misting his gaze had my heart squeezing. Something about the big-barreled man showing his emotion so easily made my own throat constrict.
Ollie went on inside, no doubt eager to see his mate.
With that thought, I finished my chocolate bar and said to Tyler. “I’m going to get back to it.”
“Of course,” he said and then added. “Though I’ll be enforcing mandatory chocolate breaks throughout the afternoon.”
An incorrigible smile lifted my lips as I went back inside.
I didn’t get to ride the sugar rush and the feeling of being more welcome for long, though. As I started on my next batch of potion brewing, Logan joined me at my table. Goosebumps prickled over my skin, and the hair at the nape of my neck stood on end.
Logan towered over me. I knew his physique was one developed through relentless training in the ring rather than out in our beautiful lands, doing something more meaningful—like hunting for gems or herbs. His wide face bore an angular jawline and deep-set eyes that were perpetually narrowed in scrutiny, giving him the look of someone always on the hunt.
His voice was low as he uttered, “Your little good Samaritan act may have fooled lots of them, but I don’t trust you.”
His voice dripped with scorn, and I continued to chop the herbs evenly, forcing down the impatience bubbling up. I wouldn’t let him rattle me. It would be too much to expect my biggest bully to suddenly extend an olive branch.
I shrugged, trying to wear indifference as a shield, but I couldn’t help commenting, “I notice your suspicion hasn’t stopped you from refusing treatment for your cousin.” His scowl only deepened.
“I’m going to expose your plot,” he warned before skulking back to David’s bedside.
A grim kind of satisfaction tugged at my lips. He was such a hypocrite. I reminded myself that once my parents were exonerated, Logan would feel the weight of guilt for the ill-treatment he had shown me, as would so many in the pack.
Yet, as I watched Kelly begin to set up a feeding tube for David to administer the tea, a chill crept down my spine, inked with an ominous sense of foreboding. I felt the weight of Logan’s words settle over me, thick and claustrophobic.
The true origin of this illness prickled against my skin. I could almost taste the dark magic emanating from the sick. It was a greasy, unsettling presence that twisted my gut, and it was a power I recognized all too well. Flashbacks of the Black Moons invading the Shadow Moon Pack surged through my mind, vivid memories of Marissa and that sinister witch wielding dark sorcery—memories that felt all too familiar and dangerously close.
A deep unease bloomed within me. Who among us had betrayed the pack? The traitor could be lurking in plain sight, hidden among us, sowing the seeds of illness right now. My gaze swept across the infirmary, lingering on the faces of the pack members who had come to visit their ailing friends. I looked over at Laura and Linda, who were administering a tube to Neave. Each heartbeat echoed in my ears, a pulse of rising anxiety, as the realization dawned. It could be anyone.