The Alpha King And His Chosen Luna novel Chapter 52

Not certain yet–1

(Isla)

Sera came just before midday, the same way she usually did when she wanted to check my ankle. I heard her knock and closed the book in my lap even though I had not read a full page in several minutes. The morning had passed quietly, and I had stayed near the window, watching the eastern forest while trying not to think too directly about the warmth from the night before. It had not returned, but the memory of it stayed under my skin like something waiting. When she knocked, I felt a small shift inside me, not fear, just awareness. I told myself it was routine and nothing more.

“Come in,” I said.

She entered with her case in her hand and closed the door behind her without noise. Her expression was calm and focused, the same one she always wore when she worked. She moved toward the bed and set the case down in the same place she always used. Nothing in her manner suggested anything unusual, and for a moment I wondered if I had imagined the sense that something had changed. She glanced at my ankle and then at my face as if checking both at once. The room settled into the familiar quiet that came whenever she was treating me.

“Routine check,” she said. “And the ankle.”

I nodded and shifted to sit where she usually worked. The movement pulled slightly at the skin around the healing burn, but it did not hurt the way it had a few days ago. She knelt in front of me and began unwrapping the bandage with steady hands. I watched her fingers, the calm rhythm of her movements, and felt my body relax slightly in response. Her presence always carried that effect, not comfort exactly, but something close to it. She worked without speaking for a moment, and the silence felt normal.

“Any soreness this morning?” she asked.

“Less,” I said. “It loosened faster.”

She nodded once and pressed lightly along the skin. Her touch was careful, testing rather than probing. I watched her face for signs of concern and saw none. The skin looked better than it had the day before, less red, less irritated. She adjusted the wrap and smoothed it in place with slow, even movements. Everything about the check felt routine.

“This is healing well,” she said. “Faster than expected.”

I did not answer right away, because I had noticed that too. My body felt stronger each day, not just in the ankle but everywhere. The food, the rest, the absence of stress, all of it had begun to show. I flexed my foot slightly, and the movement came easier than it had yesterday. She watched the motion carefully. Then she finished the wrap and reached for her case.

But she did not close it.

Instead she remained still, her hand resting on the edge. Her eyes lifted to my face, studying me in a way that felt different from before. It was not concern, not exactly. It was assessment, more focused than usual. I noticed the change immediately. Something in her attention had sharpened.

“Any other changes?” she asked.

Notcettar

The question was new.

“Like what?” I said.

“Sleep? Energy? Feeling warm? Anything unusual?”

Cla

I went quiet. The warmth from the night before moved into my thoughts again. I had not decided whether to tell her. I had planned to wait. But she was asking directly now.

“I slept,” I said. “Better.”

She nodded slowly, but her eyes stayed on me.

“And today?” she asked.

“I feel normal.”

She studied me for a moment longer. Then she reached forward and took my wrist. Her fingers rested lightly against my skin. She was not checking pulse the usual way. She seemed to be feeling for something else. I stayed still and let her.

Halfway through, she went very still.

It was subtle but clear. Her hand stopped moving. Her eyes sharpened. Her attention shifted entirely to what she was sensing. I watched her face and tried to read it. I could not. Her expression had gone neutral in a way that meant she was thinking.

She did not remove her hand.

“Have you felt warm?” she asked.

Comments

LUCK DRAW >

Vote

1.1K

Not certain yet–2

“Yes,” I said.

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Where?”

I hesitated. The memory felt private, something I had been holding carefully. But she was waiting, and her attention did not move.

“Here,” I said, touching my chest. “And later behind my eyes.”

Her fingers pressed slightly more firmly against my wrist.

“Did it hurt?” she asked.

“No.”

“Dizziness?”

“No.”

“Did your hearing change?”

“I noticed sounds earlier than usual.”

“Smell?”

“Maybe sharper. I’m not sure.”

She released my wrist slowly. Her expression had changed again, but I still could not read it. She stood and took a step back, then returned. Her movements were measured, as if she was organizing thoughts before speaking again. I watched her carefully.

“How long did the warmth last?” she asked.

“Less than a minute.”

“And the pressure?”

“The same.”

“How many times?”

“Twice.”

r

She nodded and looked toward the window briefly. Then she turned back to me. Her attention remained focused in a way I had not seen before.

“Did it happen while you were moving?” she asked.

Not staye

No

“While resting?”

“Yes.”

She inhaled slowly and sat beside me. The shift in posture made the moment feel more serious. I felt my body become more alert in response. The room seemed quieter than before.

“When it happened,” she asked, “did you feel anything else? Uneasy? Alert?”

“Alert,” I said. “Like something was about to happen. But nothing did.”

She nodded once. Her gaze moved across my face again, studying small details. I tried not to shift under the attention. Her calm usually made me relax, but now it made me aware.

“Any change this morning?” she asked.

“No.”

“Any pain now?”

“No.”

She stood again and walked a few steps across the room, then came back. Her movements were controlled, but I sensed tension in them. She stopped in front of me.

“When you felt it in your chest,” she asked, “did it spread?”

“Yes.”

“Upward?”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify