To ruin an Omega novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Apothecary 1

FIA

I woke up to voices that sounded like they were coming from underwater. Muffled and distant. My head felt like someone had stuffed it full of cotton and then set it on fire.

The ceiling above me was unfamiliar. White tiles. Fluorescent lights that hurt to look at. It was not my room. It was not anywhere I knew.

Memory came back in pieces. The road. The flowers. The purple petals everywhere. The sweet smell that had made my head spin. Me running and falling. The gray strip of pavement under my bleeding hands.

Then nothing.

I tried to sit up. My body screamed in protest. Every muscle felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry. My skin burned under what felt like bandages soaked in something slick and herbal.

"She’s waking up."

The voice was sharp. Female. I turned my head toward it and immediately regretted the movement. The room spun.

A woman stood a few feet away. She wore scrubs and had her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun. Her face was hard. Unfriendly. She stared at me like I was something unpleasant she’d found on the bottom of her shoe.

"About time," another voice which happened to be male and older said. "Thought she’d sleep through the whole damn crisis."

I blinked and forced my eyes to focus. The room came into sharper detail. White walls. Medical equipment. Beds lined up in rows. An infirmary.

Other people stood around. Most of them wore the same hostile expression as the first woman. Their eyes tracked my every movement like I was a threat they needed to contain.

"Where..." My voice came out as a croak. I swallowed and tried again. "Where am I?"

"Skollrend’s healing ward," the older man said. He stepped closer and I slowly drank in his features. Gray hair. A weathered face. Traditional healer’s robes. Was he... "You’re lucky to be alive, girl."

Skollrend. This was Cian’s territory. His pack. The memories clicked into place faster now. The wedding. The limo. Being thrown out on the road. Walking through the forest. The flowers.

The mourning moon.

"How long..."

"Almost twelve hours." This voice was different. Warmer. I turned my head the other way and saw the sentinel that had been driving us, Garret standing near the foot of my bed. His face was the only one in the room that didn’t look like he wanted to throw me back out into the forest. "Your fever broke not too long ago."

He had bandages too. Around his forearms. The same slick sheen of herbal oils darkening the white fabric.

"You’re hurt," I said.

"Contact exposure." He shrugged. "Not as bad as you or..." He trailed off. His eyes shifted to something behind me.

I followed his gaze.

There was another bed right next to mine. And in it...

Laid Alpha Cian.

He lay perfectly still. His skin was pale. Too pale. Almost gray. His chest rose and fell in shallow movements that looked wrong. Labored. Bandages covered his arms and neck. The same oil stained wrappings I wore.

"He found you," Garrett said quietly. "Carried you to the car. Drove you back here himself."

The room tilted again. Not from the poison this time but from understanding.

Cian had saved me.

After everything. After throwing me out. After telling me I could rot for all he cared. He’d come back, found me dying on the side of the road and gotten himself poisoned in the process.

"He’s not getting better." The woman in scrubs spoke up. Her voice was clinical but I caught the edge of worry underneath. "The antidote isn’t working fast enough."

Every head in the room turned toward me.

"What?" The old healer’s voice was sharp.

"I can help him." I pushed myself up to sitting. The room spun again but I forced through it. "I know what he needs."

"You’re an Omega," the healer said. The disdain in his voice was thick enough to choke on. "You know nothing about healing."

"My mother was an Omega as well with knowledge on healing." I met his eyes. Held his gaze even though every instinct screamed at me to look away. To submit. "She taught me about poisons. About how they work. About how to counter them."

"Your mother." He scoffed. "Let me tell you girl, Omegas produce other Omegas and failures. Not healers. You are either born with this talent or not and I do not think..."

"Elder Thorne." The woman in scrubs stepped forward. "We’re running out of options. If she knows something..."

"She knows nothing, Dr. Maren." The old healer waved a dismissive hand. "She’s a desperate Omega trying to seem useful because she understands the severity of what she has done."

I looked at Cian again. His breathing had gotten worse even in the few minutes I’d been awake. More ragged. More strained.

He was dying.

The bond between us flickered, faint and uneven, like a candle fighting against wind. I had kept it walled off since the forest. It had snapped while I was unconscious, and when I woke, I must have mended it without realizing. Now, I lowered the shield, just a little, just enough to reach him.

What came through wasn’t thought or sound—only pain. It burned through me, raw and endless, followed by the weight of darkness pressing in, swallowing everything.

"I need wolfsbane root," I said. My voice came out steadier than I felt. "The purple variant. Not the common kind. And silver touched nettle. Fresh if you have it. And moonwater."

Silence filled the room.

"Wolfsbane?" Elder Thorne stared at me like I’d grown a second head. "That’s poison."