Derek walked into the pack's infirmary, the faint scent of disinfectants lingering in the air. The quiet hum of activity greeted him—nurses moving about and doctors tending to the wounded. His gaze swept across the room until it landed on Alpha Moore.
Moore sat propped up on a bed, his large frame noticeably stronger than the last time Derek saw him. The deep lines of exhaustion were beginning to fade, though his face still carried the effects of the plague. His wolf had fought hard, coupled with Ella's calming effect, but the lingering poison slowed his recovery.
“You’re looking better,” Derek said, stepping closer.
Moore looked up, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Better, but not quite my usual self,” he replied, his voice deep but calm. “Thanks to my wolf, though, I’m still here
