The Alpha's Ruthless Luna

Chapter 20

"He's not?" Vincent rushed to her side, hope flaring in his eyes.

Diana didn't reply. In her head, she'd already assumed they'd hurt him.

The other werewolves stood in awe as they watched Diana perform more checks on Aiden, their hands flying to their chests as they waited for her conclusion.

She gently lifted his eyelids and watched his pupils respond to the daylight. They constricted normally, a small relief amid everything else that was wrong.

"He's paralysed," she finally said. Her voice was tense. "s**t. What the hell did you do to him?"

Vincent was so invested in whatever she was doing that he barely heard her question.

"Please tell me he'll live," he pleaded, his voice shaking, his heart feeling as though it might burst from his chest.

Diana looked at him.

She was confused, but she didn't have time to think about it.

No one did.

"He will if I can stabilise his current condition. Now tell me what you did to him!" she demanded, this time her voice strict and petrifying.

"Jesus, no! I did nothing to him!" Vincent immediately defended himself. "God forbid I ever hurt Aiden. I met him like this!"

He ran both hands through his dishevelled hair, looking completely frantic.

A few minutes ago, he'd thought Aiden was dead.

They had been on their way to the retired witch's home, miles away, and Vincent had been desperately hoping they would find a car along the way.

Any car.

Preferably one without its owner inside.

He hadn't cared anymore about the consequences.

Almost an hour ago, he nearly had a heart attack.

First, there had been the loud crash from the room where he'd left Aiden with the strange object—the jar.

Even before the thud, Vincent had paced outside nervously, debating whether he should return to the room and stop Aiden from making a huge mistake.

Then the sound came.

He'd rushed back into the room.

And when he'd seen Aiden lying there, completely lifeless, he'd lost his mind.

He'd thought a hundred things in a single second.

Aiden was dead.

The jar had killed him.

It had been a trap.

Vincent had shouted for help like a madman.

Luckily, his most trusted Gammas had rushed to him.

They were the same werewolves who had discovered the strange object in the first place.

Vincent had thought Aiden was dead or under some kind of spell, and for some reason, he'd convinced himself that the retired witch might be able to revive him—or at least confirm that he was dead.

Now that they'd encountered Diana on the way, he didn't know whether he should be grateful or even more worried about her validation.

"s**t. Okay..." Diana looked at Aiden again. "We need to get him to the mansion, and I need medical supplies for a proper assessment."

She didn't want to ask too many questions yet.

Her priority was Aiden.

First, she needed to stabilise him.

Then she needed to figure out what was wrong.

So far, his symptoms pointed strongly toward poisoning.

But this wasn't a normal toxin.

His pulse was present. His breathing was still intact. His pupils were reacting to light, and he was clearly conscious, yet he couldn't move a single muscle voluntarily.

That combination bothered her.

Something had interfered with his nervous system.

And whatever it was, it was powerful enough to paralyse the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack.

Diana swallowed.

She'd experienced fear since arriving in this pack, but this was different.

A deeper pit had formed in her stomach, one that seemed impossible to fill until Aiden opened his eyes and proved to her that he was going to survive.

The plan to steal a car worked faster than they'd expected.

Actually, unfortunately for the car's owner, he'd parked a little too close to the scene of their drama before stepping away to answer nature's call.

Vincent hotwired the car and drove so fast that Diana briefly wondered whether they were going to die before they even managed to save Aiden.

He made sure to park inside Aiden's garage rather than outside, just in case anyone saw them.

He knew the owner would eventually report the stolen car to the disciplinary council.

The council would report it to him.

He would report it to Aiden.

That was how the hierarchy worked.

Although, considering the circumstances, Vincent planned to return the car once they'd managed to swim across this turbulent ocean.

They finally got Aiden to his room and carefully placed him on the bed.

"Don't move him again unless we have to," Diana instructed.

Vincent nodded.

With his help, they gathered as many medical supplies as they could find.

Diana checked Aiden's pulse again.

Still weak.

His breathing was steady, although she watched his chest carefully for any changes.

She checked his pupils again, then pressed firmly against his fingertips and the soles of his feet, watching for any response.

Nothing.

"Aiden," she called, leaning closer. "Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

Diana frowned and tried again.

"Aiden? If you can hear me, try to communicate."

She thought she saw his eyelid move.

Good, she almost smiled in relief.

She put her hand in his and spoke softly.

"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

Nothing happened.

She tried again.

"Aiden, focus on me."

To her greatest shock—and relief—his eyes actually opened after a while, his eyelids fighting to obey him.

They shifted toward her, causing her heart to jump and melt when she saw panic in them.

He could hear her.

He could understand her.

But his body wasn't obeying him.

She checked his reflexes as best she could, watching for any involuntary movement. His neurological responses were abnormal, but he wasn't unconscious.

That was the strangest part.

He was trapped inside his own body.

"You're conscious, good." she whispered, more to herself than to him.

His eyes remained fixed on hers.

"Don't panic. I'm going to figure this out." She told him with a reassuring tone.

For the first time, she wished she had her full medical equipment.

A blood test would have helped.

Toxicology would have helped even more.

But they didn't have the luxury of a hospital or a laboratory.

They had a paralysed Alpha, limited equipment, and a toxin she couldn't identify.

Diana carefully examined his skin.

Then she saw it.

The faint discoloration beneath the skin of his hand.

Her brows drew together.

She grabbed his wrist and examined it more closely.

There was no wound.

No obvious puncture.

But beneath the skin, faint black traces remained.

Diana's stomach dropped.

She remembered seeing something similar.

Not in a patient.

In a textbook.

Something she'd barely paid attention to because it had been considered extremely rare.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to remember.

Black Root Hibiscus.

Her eyes snapped open.

"No..."

Vincent looked at her.

"What?"

Diana didn't answer immediately.

Her mind was racing.

Black Root Hibiscus wasn't an ordinary plant.

It was a highly toxic species that had been documented in obscure medical literature, but humans knew very little about it.

Most human researchers considered the reports unreliable because it only affected wolves and had no effect on humans.

Being the only werewolf in a school of humans, she'd taken the topic rather seriously.

Which was why she remembered the description.

Dark discoloration beneath the part of the skin it touched.

Progressive neurological impairment.

Muscle paralysis.

Consciousness preserved while voluntary movement deteriorated.

And after a few minutes...

Death.

Her heart began pounding.

"Black Root Hibiscus," she whispered.

Vincent frowned.

"What is that?"

"A poison."

She looked at Aiden again.

"Not just any poison. A very rare one, and dangerous."

She moved closer to his hand.

"The human medical community barely understands it. There isn't enough clinical information about it because there have been so few documented cases, wolf cases."

Vincent stared at her, very confused but forcing himself to listen.

"Okay, so how can you help him? You're a doctor, right? Except it's magic, and we need an actual werewolf physician or witch for this."

"I don't know," Diana admitted. "I should stabilise him first."

She swallowed, not sure she liked the idea of bringing a witch into this matter.

Vincent sighed impatiently, pinching his temple.

"But I remember studying it, and I personally discovered that it is a very outdated werewolf poison, banned by the ancient werewolves for its lethal nature."

Her fingers moved carefully over the darkened area of Aiden's skin.

"It affects the nervous system. The toxin interferes with the signals between the brain and the muscles."

She looked into Aiden's eyes.

"That's why he is paralysed."

Aiden's eyes widened slightly.

Diana noticed.

"You understand me, don't you?"

His eyes shifted again.

"Okay," she whispered. "That's good."

She turned back to Vincent.

"But there's something I don't understand."

"What?"

Diana stared at Aiden's hand.

"How did he touch it? Where did he find it? Unless my diagnosis is wrong and this is something else."

Vincent's face fell. Deep down, he knew it might have been from the jar. That was the only explanation, except he'd also searched for it in a rush when he'd found Aiden sprawled on the ground.

Nothing.

"I don't know." He lied, not about to trust Diana with such delicate information.

"Vincent, he was poisoned. This was deliberate, and naturally, this poison takes twenty-six hours to attack the victim's body. Unless he absorbed the poison yesterday..."

Vincent squinted. He was sure that it was from the jar.

"No. It was this morning. Forty-five minutes ago, if calculated correctly."

Diana looked at Vincent suspiciously and shook her head, her voice becoming quieter.

"They modified it."

The room fell silent.

Diana immediately began preparing what little supportive treatment she could provide.

She knew there was no simple antidote sitting inside the medical supplies.

If this really was Black Root Hibiscus, her first job wasn't to magically cure him.

It was to keep him alive long enough for his body to fight the toxin while she looked for the antidote, or made it. Thought she wasn't sure she had enough time to.

Every few minutes, she reassessed his pupils, consciousness, breathing, and muscle responses. She'd also sent everyone in the room out on errands to fetch more medical supplies and other things to help her research.

"Oh, Aiden," she whispered, squeezing his hands. "You're really strong. I've never seen this poison in action, but you should be dead and you're not. I know I'm a terrible doctor for telling you this, but you're tough. So keep being tough because I'm not going to let you die. I mean, I should, but I won't. You should really thank the goddess that I'm a doctor."