The Alpha’s Healer

Chapter5

Viktoria POV

I stand in the middle of my room, staring at the small glass bottle trembling in my hand. Then I look at my reflection in the mirror. It is pale and ghostly, it is a stranger. My heart pounds like it’s trying to break free, but my mind is numb, as if carved out.

I look at the bottle of arsenic again. A farmer in the market whispered once that it’s bitter, sharp, almost metallic on the tongue, like swallowing ground-up coins mixed with vinegar. I never thought I’d know the taste myself. But here I am, fingers loosening the cap, ready to end it all.

This isn’t life anymore. It’s ashes.

I gave Marco six years. Six years of loyalty, of love, of sacrifice. I stitched myself into his world, gave him my heart, my body, my dreams. I nursed him through seizures, stood by him when he trembled, carried secrets that could have destroyed him. And this is how he repays me? By parading another woman before the pack, a stranger with his child, and declaring her his Luna?

Was he cheating on me all along? While I was warming his bed and carrying his burdens, was he touching Kyra Conley, whispering the same promises he once gave me?

The audacity of him to accuse me of cheating with Elon when it was him who betrayed me, it was him who lied. And now he has a boy to prove it.

My hand tightens around the bottle. Enough is enough. I twist the cap free. I close my eyes as I lift it to my lips.

“Goodbye,” I whisper into the silence.

Goodbye to Marco, to our bond and to the goddess who failed me. The bitter liquid touches my tongue. I force it down. My stomach twists instantly, like it’s become a blazing kiln. Fire licks through my veins and the room wavers, and my knees buckle. I gasp, clawing at my chest as the poison seizes my soul.

The last thing I feel is the bottle slipping from my fingers, shattering against the floor. The last thing I hear is my own strangled cry before darkness swallows me whole.

I wake up to the steady beep, beep, beep of a machine. My eyelids are heavy, my throat painful. When I open my eyes, the world is bright, white walls, white sheets, white light flooding from a high window. A tube snakes from my wrist, a needle taped to my skin, and another line runs into my arm.

Wow. I’m not dead.

Disappointment crushes me and I purse my lips. Life is hard, death is unattainable too? Goddess, why?

I shift my head slightly and notice a bouquet of flowers on the bedside table. Its a bunch of daisies, wild roses, and lavender tied together with a red twine. My heart leaps like a foolish and desperate school girl. Marco must have heard and sent the flowers. He must still care. Maybe he still loves me, even after everything.

The door creaks open. My father steps inside, and my heart sinks when I see him. He looks tired and worn out.

He also looks as he always does—broad shoulders from years of tilling soil, clothes patched and stained from the fields, his skin darkened by sun and hardship. His hands are rough, cracked with calluses, and they cradle a small box carefully.

“Viktoria,” he says softly. “My girl. You're awake. Thanks to the goddess.”

“Papa . . .”

He sets the box down and comes to my side and presses a kiss to my forehead. The comforting smell of earth and wheat clings to him. He lifts the lid of the box, revealing a small honey cake with golden crust, its sweet aroma wafting up to my nose.

“Your mother made this for you,” he says. “She said it’ll bring strength back into your bones.”

I smile weakly. “Did Marco . . . send the flowers?”

Papa glances at the bouquet. “No, child. Those are from the little ones you teach at the school. They heard you were sick and wanted to cheer you up.”

I force a smile, grateful for thoughtful kids. Of course it wasn’t Marco. Why would it be? He’s too busy with his new Luna to remember me.

Papa takes my hand in his big, rough palms. His eyes glisten. “If I lost you, Viktoria, if your mother and I lost you, we’d have nothing left. Do you understand? Nothing.”

The dam breaks. I cover my face with my hands and sob, my shoulders shaking compulsively. “But I have lost everything, Papa. Marco was everything to me. Without him, what’s the point? I don’t want to live if he’s not mine.”

His grip on my hand tightens. His voice is firm, and tender. “You will live. And you will see what the moon goddess has in store for you. You’re a special girl, Viktoria. The goddess sees you, even when you think she doesn’t. She has not finished with you yet.”

His words settle in me, not quite healing, but at least, I don't feel as empty. He smiles at me and I feel some hope.

By evening, the doctors remove the tubes and check my vitals one last time. My father argues with them. His worries that they're letting me go so soon.

“How can you be sure she’s well?” he demands. “She drank poison. How do you know it’s gone?”

The doctor frowns, shuffling his notes. “That’s the strange thing. The arsenic should have taken her life, but her body expelled every trace of it. She’s completely recovered. Honestly, it’s miraculous.” His eyes glance at me with curiosity. “She must be special.”

Papa mutters a prayer of thanks. They discharge me with little fuss, and soon we’re back home. Mama fusses over me, feeding me broth, smoothing my hair.

Then there's a bang, bang, bang, at the door.

The front door rattles under urgent knocks. My father looks at us, his eyes open wide. Frowning, he hurries to the door. I sit up, my frayed nerves taut.

When the door swings open, two guards stand outside, dressed in the dark livery of the alpha’s mansion. Their faces are grim.

“Viktoria,” one says, bowing his head slightly. “We’ve come to take you to the mansion at once.”

I rise slowly, confused. “Why?”

“It’s the Alpha,” the other replies. “He’s down with seizures. He needs your help.”