Ivy’s Point of View
Ten o’clock at night.
The pack home had fallen silent. Lights extinguished one by one across the estate like stars winking out of existence. Servants retired to their quarters, exhausted from the day’s labors. Guards settled into their posts for the long night ahead, their eyes heavy with the promise of uneventful hours.
No one was paying attention to the heir’s residence.
Perfect.
Inside my chambers, the real work began.
Nell and the other maids worked quickly and quietly, moving with practiced efficiency. They had been preparing since sunset, following my detailed instructions to the letter. Grinding herbs into fine powder with mortar and pestle. Boiling water in massive kettles over the fire until steam filled the room. Measuring ingredients with careful precision, ensuring each proportion was exactly as I had specified.
One wrong measurement could ruin everything. They understood the stakes.
The medicinal bath was ready.
Ash and Stone carried in bucket after bucket of steaming water, their muscles straining under the weight. They filled the large wooden tub that sat in the center of the bathing chamber until it was nearly overflowing. The liquid turned murky green as Nell added the prepared medicines, swirling them through the water with a wooden paddle. Steam rose from the surface in thick clouds, carrying the sharp scent of healing herbs throughout the room. The fragrance was intense. Almost overwhelming. Moonpetal and silverleaf and a dozen other ingredients blending into something ancient and powerful.
"It’s time," I said.
The guards moved to the bed where Dominic lay. They worked efficiently, stripping away his sleeping clothes with the detached professionalism of soldiers performing a duty. No hesitation. No awkwardness. Just the focused determination of men completing an important mission.
I had seen Dominic’s body before, of course. But always covered. Always hidden beneath blankets and robes. Always protected from scrutiny.
Now, bare and exposed, the extent of his deterioration was painfully clear.
He had lost weight. Too much weight. His muscles had wasted despite Marcus and Theo’s daily massage regimen. His skin was pale as paper, stretched tight over prominent bones that shouldn’t have been visible. His ribs stood out like the bars of a cage. His collarbone jutted sharply beneath his throat.
Six months of sabotaged treatments had taken their toll. Six months of a physician slowly killing him while everyone believed he was trying to save him.
The sight made my heart ache with anger and determination.
Ash and Stone lifted him carefully and lowered him into the medicinal bath. The moment his body touched the water, he went completely limp. Like a puppet with its strings cut. His head lolled to the side. His arms floated uselessly on the surface. His legs folded beneath him without resistance.
No tension. No reaction. Nothing that indicated any awareness of what was happening to him.
"Prop him up," I ordered. "Don’t let his head go under."
Stone positioned himself behind the tub, his strong hands keeping Dominic’s head and shoulders above the waterline. Ash stepped back to give me room to work, taking up a guard position near the door.
I knelt beside the tub and rolled up my sleeves, exposing my arms to the elbow.
"Everyone out except Stone," I said. "Guard the doors. Make sure no one enters under any circumstances. I don’t care if the Alpha himself comes knocking. No one gets in until I say so."
They obeyed without question. The door closed softly behind them.
When only Stone remained, I closed my eyes and began to chant.


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