The Moonlight Heir

Chapter 5

Elinya

Hospitals had a way of carrying voices.

Not loud ones—but whispers. Half-truths passed between nurses, hushed conversations near corridors, words exchanged over charts and lowered gazes. I had learned early on that if you listened long enough, you heard more than you wanted to.

That morning was no different.

“…another girl,” someone murmured behind the nurse’s station.

“Third this month.”

“He never commits.”

“That’s Igor for you.”

My hands paused mid-motion as I adjusted my gloves.

I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to.

My chest tightened anyway.

I focused on my work—checking patient notes, reviewing vitals, reminding myself that I was here as a medical professional, not a girl foolish enough to let rumors shake her. And yet, the words followed me down the sterile hallway, echoing louder than the beeping monitors.

Don’t think about it, I told myself.

You’re here to heal.

Still, my thoughts betrayed me.

Faces. Smiles. Late conversations. The way Igor looked at me like I was different.

Was I just another story being whispered?

The orthopaedic wing was unusually tense that day.

Senior doctors moved with purpose, security stood where there usually was none, and names were exchanged quietly—carefully.

A patient had been admitted in secrecy.

Osteomyelitis.

A bone infection caused by bacteria. Dangerous if ignored. Painful. Persistent. And in some cases… life-threatening.

The patient’s identity was not written on any public chart.

Only one thing was clear—

This case was not meant to become gossip.

I passed by a partially closed room when I overheard a senior nurse whisper,

“High-profile. Very high. No mistakes.”

I didn’t ask questions. In hospitals, curiosity could be unprofessional.

I adjusted the files in my arms and turned the corner—

And collided with someone.

“Oh—I’m so sorry!” The words rushed out of me instantly.

The file slipped from my hands as the man staggered backward.

Before I could react, his knees buckled.

“No—wait—!” I dropped down immediately, panic rising as he fell heavily to one knee.

“I’m so sorry,” I said again, my voice shaking. “I wasn’t looking—are you hurt?”

Up close, I noticed things quickly—instinctively.

He was older. Broad-shouldered despite the visible strain in his posture. His face was pale, jaw clenched as if fighting pain he refused to show. His breathing was controlled… too controlled.

Pain tolerance like that wasn’t ordinary.

“I’m fine,” he said firmly, though his hand trembled as he tried to rise.

“No,” I said gently but decisively, placing a steady hand near his arm. “Please—don’t move.”

He looked at me then.

Sharp eyes. Assessing. Powerful—even weakened.

Something about him commanded authority without effort.

“You fell,” I continued, professional instincts taking over. “And you’re already unsteady. Let me help you.”

For a moment, he studied me in silence.

Then—slowly—he allowed it.

As I supported him, I felt it. The tension in his muscles. The way he masked pain with discipline. The way his body betrayed what his pride tried to hide.

“You shouldn’t be walking alone,” I said softly. “Especially in your condition.”

A faint, humorless smile touched his lips. “I’m not used to being weak.”

I didn’t know his name.

I didn’t know who he was.

But something deep inside me understood—

This was a man who had never allowed himself to fall.

And yet, fate had chosen this moment.

“I’m really sorry,” I said again, guiding him carefully. “Please—let me call a doctor.”

His gaze lingered on me—curious now.

“You’re new,” he said.

“Yes,” I replied. “Elinya. Orthopaedics.”

He read my name tag

There was a pause.

Then, quietly, he said,

“Rurik.”

The name meant nothing to me.

But in the corridors of that hospital, it carried weight far heavier than I could imagine.

And somewhere beyond these walls—

A storm was beginning to stir.