ENSLAVED TO BE HIS MATE

THE HEALER IN THE SHADOWS

POV: Draven

Midnight had passed, but I couldn't sleep. I kept pacing my room, my skin itching with the need to find her. The bond wasn't just a pull anymore; it was a tether, dragging me toward the slave quarters.

I left my room and started walking, until I reached the back of the granary. There was a small, rotted wooden door leading to an old cellar I hadn't used in years.

I heard voices. Low, urgent whispering.

"Drink this, Leo. It’ll stop the fever," a girl’s voice said.

Mona.

I didn't knock. I kicked the door off its hinges with a single strike.

"What is this?" I barked.

The room was dim, lit only by a few sputtering candles. Five or six slaves were huddled on straw mats. In the center of the room, Mona was kneeling over a young boy. She jumped, her eyes wide with terror, her hands still pressed against the boy's chest.

For a second, I froze. Her palms were glowing. It wasn't like a torch or a fire; it was a faint, shimmering light that seemed to pulse with her heartbeat.

She was rubbing a dark green paste onto the boy’s skin, and as she did, the grey, rotting sores on his neck seemed to shrink.

"Draven," she breathed, her face turning pale. She pulled her hands back, hiding them in the folds of her shift. The light faded instantly.

I stepped into the room, my eyes scanning the shelves. They were lined with jars of dried leaves, crushed roots, and vials of liquid I didn't recognize.

"You’ve been stealing from my woods," I said, my voice low. "You’ve been running a clinic under my nose."

Mona stood up, her legs shaking from exhaustion.

"They were dying, Draven. The Great Rot is here. It’s in the water, or the air—I don't know. But the guards don't care about the slaves. Someone had to do something."

I walked over to the boy. He was breathing steadily now, the fever flush leaving his cheeks. I looked back at Mona.

"The reports said the slaves were healthy. I thought it was luck. It was you."

"Are you going to punish me?" she asked. She stepped forward, her chin tilted up, though her hands were trembling.

"I broke your rules. I left the wing. I used the herbs without your permission. But look at them! They’re alive because of me."

I looked at the dark circles under her eyes. She had been working the fields all day and healing people all night. She was exhausted, yet she was still standing there, ready to fight me for the sake of these people.

I reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward me.

"Is this why you kept going back to the quarters?" I asked. "It wasn't just to spite me? It was for them?"

"They’re my people," she said, her voice cracking. "They don't have anyone else. You have your doctors and your highborn healers. These people have nothing."

I looked into her eyes and saw something I wasn't prepared for. Compassion.

I had bought her like an object, but she was more human than anyone I had ever met.

"You're a fool, Mona," I whispered, my thumb brushing against the pulse point in her wrist. It was racing.

"You’re killing yourself to save people who can’t even pay you."

"I don't want their money," she snapped.

I leaned in, my chest rubbing against her. Even in this damp, dark cellar, I wanted to pin her against the stone wall and take her right there, but for the first time, I felt a different kind of urge.

I wanted to protect her.

"You’re a better person than I’ve ever been," I said. The words felt strange in my mouth.

"I spent five thousand gold because I wanted to own a girl who woke in me what I thought dead. I didn't realize I was buying a saint."

Mona blinked, her expression softening for a split second. "Draven, I—"

A scream ripped through the night.

It wasn't a cry of pain. It was a high-pitched, soul-piercing shriek of pure terror. It came from the direction of the Alpha’s wing.

Mona and I both froze.

"What was that?" she whispered, her hand clutching my tunic.

"That was Bea," I said, my blood turning to ice.

I didn't wait. I grabbed Mona’s hand and pulled her toward the door. "Stay behind me. Don't leave my side."

We ran through the dark, the sounds of chaos growing louder as we approached the palace.

When we reached the Great Hall, I saw Silas. He was covered in blood, but it wasn't his.

"Alpha! Thank the moon you're here!" he shouted.

"What happened? Is it an attack?" I demanded, my hand going to the dagger at my belt.

"No," Silas said, his face white with horror. He pointed toward the stairs.

"It’s Bea. She was fine five minutes ago. Then she just... she started screaming. She’s bleeding from her eyes, Draven. The Great Rot. It’s inside the house."

Mona gasped, her grip on my hand tightening.

I saw the fear in her eyes, but I also saw her fingers twitching toward the bag of herbs she had snatched from the cellar.

"Draven," she said, her voice steadying.

"If it’s the Rot, your healers won't know what to do. They’ll just try to bleed her, and that will kill her faster."

"You want to save her?" I asked, looking at her in disbelief.

"She hates you. she’s tried to have you thrown out every day since you got here."

Mona looked up at the stairs, then back at me.

"I don't care. No one deserves to die like that."