But every time I finished my duties, my feet carried me back there as if they had a will of their own.
It had become a habit I couldn’t explain.
I pushed open the clinic door, and despite coming here countless times already, I still couldn’t get used to the bitter aroma of medicinal herbs that filled my senses.
From across the room, Lady Mireya looked up from the cabinet she was organizing and greeted me with a smile.
“Alpha Lambert.” She set another bottle onto the shelf. “You’re here early.”
I nodded in acknowledgment. “How is she?” I asked.
She glanced at the woman, who was still fast asleep on the bed. “Her wounds are healing little by little.”
I walked over and studied the woman more closely. Her face was still pale, but the cuts along her forehead had already begun closing, an
