LEO'S POV.
I sat silently in the chair beside Isabel’s bed, my gaze fixed on the mark I’d put on her neck hours ago. It was done. There was no undoing it now.
The female doctor had insisted this was the best course of action—the only way to save her life. And it had worked, or so they claimed. Her breathing was steady, her color returning. By all accounts, she was healing rapidly. It had only been a couple of hours, and her condition had improved so much.
“She’s expected to regain consciousness within twenty-four to forty-eight hours if this progress continues,” the head doctor had said earlier. “The mark is doing most of the work. It’s remarkable. You made the right decision, Alpha.”
I didn’t respond to his praise. I didn’t need validation. What I needed was proof—proof that Isabel wa
