The smell of fresh blood and bleach hits me first before I even open the infirmary door.
My mother leans against the wall, her dark hair sticky with blood. She’s holding her side, but her sharp gold eyes lock onto me the moment I step in. Even half-dead, she looks the same terrifying Luna.
“‘Bout damn time,” she rasps. Blood tints her teeth pink.
Behind her, Maddox presses a bunched-up shirt against Isla’s thigh where a silver knife still sticks out. Tabitha helps, hands shaking as she tries to stop the bleeding.
Elara nudges me. “Rowena’s fine. Stitched herself up before I even got here.”
Of course she did. My mother used to be a midwife—she knows blood. She saved my father that way. Now she gives me that look, the one that says I’m an i***t for worrying.
“Focus on your mate, Alpha.
