Austin's fingers worked with practiced precision, placing each acupuncture needle along Alpha Sherman's spine with methodical care.
The room was quiet save for the soft rustle of linen and the faint clink of metal.
She sensed rather than saw Amber enter the room, her presence casting a chill like a sudden cloud over sunlight.
Austin hadn't expected her to return—certainly not to hover like an uninvited auditor.
Alpha Sherman's spine bore the brutal legacy of his warrior past.
Decades of battlefield injuries had left chronic pain.
Despite modern medical advances, he remained reluctant to undergo surgery.
At his age, the risks were considerable.
More critically, such a delicate procedure demanded not just skill, but the kind of surgical audacity few dared claim.
