(Dion’s POV)
The infirmary carried a different kind of quiet than the rest of the pack—contained, controlled, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and clean linens. It was the kind of place where everything was measured, where nothing was left to chance.
Dion stepped inside without hesitation.
Layla sat on the edge of the examination bed, her posture upright but eased just enough to suggest she had been there a while. One hand rested lightly at her throat, her breathing steady but not entirely comfortable.
The physician stood beside her. “Alpha,” she said, inclining her head as he entered.
Dion returned the gesture briefly, his attention already shifting to Layla. “How is she?”
“There’s no structural damage,” the physician replied, her tone calm and clinical. “No bruising or t
