The Alpha's Secret Luna

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Lysander led Orion and Madam Tyler through the bustling medical facility, the air thick with the scent of herbs and healing balms. He navigated the crowded room with practiced ease, his face a mask of professional detachment, though Orion could sense the underlying tension in his posture. He was a healer, and even though he tried to hide it, he cared about his patients.

They reached a small, private room at the back of the facility, the space sparsely furnished with a simple bed, a small table, and a chair. The woman lay in the bed, her face pale but peaceful, her breathing steady and even.

“Her fever has broken,” Lysander said, his voice low, “and her vital signs are stable. She's still unconscious, but she seems to be resting comfortably.”

Madam Tyler approached the bed cautiously, her eyes scanning the woman's body with a practiced gaze. She reached out a gentle hand and lifted the blanket, revealing the bandages that covered her wounds.

“The cuts seem to be healing nicely,” Lysander said, his voice matter-of-fact, “but they were deep. Someone knew what they were doing.”

Madam Tyler nodded, her expression grim. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a small pouch, from which she extracted a handful of dried herbs and a string of beads. She began to murmur a soft incantation, her voice low and melodic, her fingers tracing the beads.

Orion watched her, his brow furrowed in curiosity. He had seen Madam Tyler perform rituals before, but this felt different, more…intense. He could feel the power radiating from her, a tangible energy that made the hairs on his arms stand on end.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Madam Tyler glanced at him, her eyes filled with a strange mixture of focus and concern. “I'm trying to ascertain if the black magic was successful,” she said, her voice low and serious. “To see if whatever they were trying to do to her…took hold.”

Orion’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't realized that Madam Tyler possessed the ability to detect the presence of black magic. He knew she was a powerful priestess, but he hadn't understood the full extent of her powers.

“You can do that?” he asked, his voice filled with awe.

Madam Tyler shot him a warning look, her eyes telling him to be quiet. “Hush, Orion,” she said, her voice firm. “I need to concentrate.”

She closed her eyes and resumed her incantation, her voice growing louder, more rhythmic. The air in the room seemed to shimmer with an unseen energy, a faint hum vibrating through the space.

She began to sprinkle the dried herbs over the woman’s wounds, her fingers moving with a delicate precision. The scent of the herbs filled the air, a pungent aroma that mingled with the antiseptic smell of the facility.

As she worked, Madam Tyler’s expression grew more and more intense, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips moving in silent prayer. Orion watched her, his heart pounding in his chest, a sense of unease settling over him.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Madam Tyler stopped chanting, her body slumping slightly, as if she had expended a great deal of energy. She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting Orion’s.

“Well?” he asked, his voice filled with anticipation. “What did you find?”

Madam Tyler sighed, her expression troubled. “It wasn’t successful,” she said, her voice low and grave. “Whatever ritual they were trying to perform…it didn’t take.”

Orion frowned, his mind racing. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or concerned. On the one hand, it was good to know that the woman hadn't been successfully subjected to dark magic. On the other hand, the fact that someone had tried to perform such a ritual on her was deeply disturbing.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice filled with confusion. “What went wrong?”

Madam Tyler shook her head, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “I don’t know for sure,” she said. “Perhaps something went wrong during the ritual. Perhaps the person performing it wasn’t skilled enough. Or perhaps…she herself possessed some kind of resistance to dark magic.”

“Is that a good thing?” Orion asked her, his brow furrowed in concern.

“It is,” Madam Tyler said, “but we still need to keep an eye on her. Black magic can be unpredictable, and I don't know for sure what kind of ritual they were trying to carry out on her. We have no idea if it was one that had to do with possession or something more…sinister. And I know little about black magic, to be honest."

Orion nodded, his jaw tightening. “Well…we can try to find out more,” he said, his mind already turning to Tobias and his network of informants.

“How?” Madam Tyler asked, her voice filled with doubt.

It was Ronan who answered, stepping forward with a confident smirk. “Tobias,” he said. “If anyone can get us information regarding black magic, it's him.”

Madam Tyler laughed, shaking her head. “Y’all are going to give that boy a headache,” she said, though a hint of amusement flickered in her eyes.

Ronan laughed. “He loves it.”

“That, he does,” Madam Tyler agreed, her expression softening.

“We are not going to let anything happen to her, at least not until we can get some information from her,” Orion said to Madam Tyler, his voice firm. “She’s under our protection now.”

Madam Tyler nodded. Until they could determine if this woman was a foe or a friend, she would be a part of their pack.

“How long before she wakes up?” Orion asked Lysander, turning his attention to the healer.

Lysander shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Given the state of her injuries…I'm not sure. It could be any day, days, or even weeks. She lost a lot of blood.”

Orion hummed in deep thought, his mind already searching for ways to speed up the process. “You can't make it shorter?” He asked Lysander, his voice laced with impatience.

“He is a doctor, not a miracle worker,” Madam Tyler said with a gasp, her eyes widening in mock horror.

Ronan laughed, shaking his head. “Pretty sure to Orion, those words are synonymous,” he said, teasing his friend.

“Can't blame me,” Orion said, rolling his eyes. “They call him the miracle worker for a reason.” He gestured towards Lysander, who just shook his head, his lips twitching in a wry smile.

“I'll try my best,” Lysander said to him, his voice filled with a hint of amusement. “But no promises.”

Madam Tyler shook her head as she walked out of the facility, her expression thoughtful.

“Send word if she wakes, okay?” Orion said to Lysander, his voice serious.

“I'll be sure to do that,” Lysander said. “Now can you please go so I can continue my work in peace?” He asked him with a glare, his patience clearly wearing thin.

“Ooh, grumpy Lysander has appeared,” Orion laughed.

But he walked out of the facility, and was about to head to his room to get some sleep when Ronan grabbed him by his cloak, his expression stern.

“And where do you think you're going?” Ronan asked him, his voice filled with exasperation.

“Where does it look like I'm going?” Orion asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“I'm sure it's not to your room when you have a massive pile of documents to go over in the office, right?” Ronan asked him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Um…” Orion said to him, his mind racing for an excuse. “Can I use the toilet first?”

Ronan gave him the stink eye, his lips twitching in a wry smile, as he dragged Orion across the pack to the office, where there was a mountain pile of documents waiting for him.

“How is it so much?” Orion asked with a sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Someone forgot his pack is evolving, and that there are many things to put in place,” Ronan said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Orion released a sigh, his gaze fixed on the mountain of paperwork.

“Go through this s**t, Orion,” Ronan said, his voice firm. “I'm tired of these things increasing every day. You're the Alpha, you need to take responsibility."

Orion whined, his eyes pleading. “But you are better at this than me,” he said, hoping to sway his friend.

Ronan gave him a wide smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes, that made Orion shudder from how creepy he looked.

“And that's why everything on the table are the documents that need your approval,” Ronan said, his voice filled with mock sympathy. “The deadline is today.” He turned and locked the door, trapping Orion in the office with his nemesis: paperwork.

Orion turned to the documents and swallowed audibly, his heart sinking. This was going to be a long night.