"Did you hear?" one healer whispered as she wiped down a tray near the back of the ward.
"What?" the other asked, glancing over her shoulder.
"Alpha Zayn. He’s been with Victoria for the last three days."
"No way! I thought he’d be too busy with the Alpha King here."
The first woman scoffed. "Apparently not. He’s been sitting by her bed like she’s the only thing that matters. Won’t even let most of the other healers touch her. He only trusts a few."
"Well, you know how it is," the first one said with a small, knowing smile. "They’ve been together for so long, even if they never made it official."
Their voices faded into the background, but the words stayed.
Lily laid still on the narrow cot, staring up at the cracked ceiling. Every breath felt heavy, and laborious, like dragging herself through a swamp she couldn’t escape. She tried again—just like yesterday, and the day before—lifting her hand weakly as a healer passed.
‘Please,’ she mouthed silently. ‘Martha.’
The healer didn’t even slow down. Just turned his head away and kept walking.
Lily let her arm fall back to her side, her chest ached worse than her wounds.
She curled deeper under the thin blanket, pulling it up to her chin like it might shield her from everything she couldn’t fight.
But it didn’t. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the muffled laughter, the casual talk of Zayn caring for someone else.
But the ache settled deep, like thorns growing under her skin.
She wasn’t anyone’s priority. The pack didn’t want her, the healers ignored her and Zayn didn’t care.
Her hand drifted down to her side where the bandages were wrapped. The cloth was stiff and stuck to her skin with dried blood. When she shifted a little, the smell hit her. It was infected and rotten.
She swallowed down the nausea and lifted the edge of the cloth to peek.
The wound was inflamed and red, the bandages were filthy. No one had changed it in days.
Bile rose in her throat.
Another healer passed by her bed. Lily lifted a shaky hand, trying to get their attention.
The woman took one glance at her and grimaced. Then turned her head and walked away.
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away.
Across the room, she saw trays of food being carried out for others. Warm, steaming bowls. Fresh bread and water.
Her stomach growled painfully.
The last thing she remembered eating was a half-stale crust of bread two days ago, and only because Martha had snuck it in. But it had been days since she visited. Had she abandoned her too?
Lily noticed a shift in the mood in the ward.
The soft sound of footsteps echoed through the hall, and then voices, hushed and excited.
“Lady Talia’s here!” someone whispered.
A few of the injured wolves sat up straighter. Some even tried to fix their clothes or smooth their hair. Lily tilted her head slightly, curious but too weak to move much.
A woman with soft brown hair pulled into a neat braid walked in, dressed in simple healer’s robes. She moved with grace, smiling warmly at everyone she passed. Wolves lit up when she paused to speak to them, asking how they were feeling, adjusting their blankets, and promising fresh bandages.
Talia wasn’t like the other healers. Where the other healers moved with duty, Talia moved with real care, stopping at every bed, taking time to speak to each patient, to smile, and listen.
Lily watched quietly from her corner, seeing how the wolves softened under Talia’s touch. It was filled with warmth, sincerity, and real.
When she got close to Lily’s corner, a few of the nearby healers quickly blocked her path.
“She’s not worth your time, Lady Talia,” one of them said, voice low. “She’s just a—”
“A slave,” another added.
Talia stopped and looked at them calmly. “Is she hurt?”
The healers hesitated. “Well... yes, but—” .com
“Then she’s my patient like everyone else,” Talia said simply, brushing past them.
The healers exchanged uneasy looks but didn’t argue.
Talia stepped up to Lily’s cot and bent so they were at eye level.
"Hi there," she said gently, offering a small smile. "I’m Talia."
Lily blinked at her, confused and trembling slightly.
"You’re safe," Talia added softly. "I’m here to help, alright?"
Lily tried to sit up but winced at the effort.
Talia’s smile faltered for just a second. Her eyes scanned Lily’s body, taking in the dirty, blood-crusted bandages.
Talia glanced over her shoulder at the other healers nearby. "How long has it been since these were changed?"
The healers stayed silent, pretending not to hear.
Lily caught the shift in Talia’s demeanor—anger simmered under her calm surface.
Still, when Talia turned back to her, her voice was soft again. "Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you."
She moved with steady hands, peeling back the filthy bandages.
The smell of infection hit them both instantly.
Talia didn’t flinch, but her jaw tightened. She wiped away the grime with careful strokes, whispering reassurances Lily couldn’t quite catch through the pounding in her ears.
Behind her, Lily heard a low whisper between two healers.
“We’re going to get in trouble for this!"
“What would Alpha Zayn say when he found out we let her treat that slave girl? If it wasn’t for her pack, Lady Talia’s sister might still be alive!”
Lily’s hands tightened weakly around her blanket.
Of course, it came back to him. Somehow it always did.
But Talia’s focus never shifted. She didn’t treat her like a burden or a problem to ignore. Her touch was careful and respectful. She didn’t rush and wasn’t disgusted.
One of the passing healers wrinkled their nose and muttered, "Should’ve just let it rot."
Talia shot a look over her shoulder, sharp enough to silence the entire room without a word.
She turned back to Lily, voice soft again. "None of that is your fault. You hear me?"
Lily gave a small nod, eyes stinging with tears she couldn’t let fall.
Talia worked quickly but carefully, cleaning each wound, her hands steady.
When she reached Lily’s back, she sucked in a quiet breath. The cuts there were worse—deep, red, and clearly infected.
"Goddess," Talia muttered under her breath. "How could they leave you ?"
She didn’t wait for anyone else to step in.
She grabbed fresh clothes, clean bandages, and a bowl of warm water herself. She knelt back down and began to gently wipe the wounds, muttering soft reassurances as she worked.
"You’re doing great," she said quietly when Lily flinched. "We’re almost done."
Halfway through rewrapping Lily’s side, a young man ran up to her.
"Lady Talia, Mistress Victoria is asking for you," he said breathlessly.
Talia didn’t even look up. "I’m busy."
"I said I’m busy," Talia said sharply. "She can wait."
The young man hesitated, then hurried away without another word.
Lily, alarmed, shook her head weakly and pointed toward the direction where Victoria was. Talia caught the gesture and smiled a little.
"I know who she is," she said softly, tying off the fresh bandages around Lily’s ribs. "And I know she’ll live."
She met Lily’s eyes, voice calm but firm. "Right now, you need me more."
Lily stared at her, chest tightening in a way that had nothing to do with her injuries. No one had ever said that before. She lowered her head quickly, trying to hide the tears that filled her eyes.
Talia was just finishing wrapping the last of Lily’s wounds when a sharp, angry voice echoed from down the hall.
Through the open ward doors, Victoria’s shrill complaints rang out, loud and clear.
“I said now!” she snapped. “Where the hell is she? I’m not waiting like some common servant!”
There was the sound of something heavy hitting the floor—a chair or maybe a tray—and the distant, frantic scurrying of healers trying to calm her.
Lily flinched instinctively.
Talia let out a long, slow breath through her nose, then glanced at Lily.
They caught each other’s gaze.
For a second, there was nothing but silence between them.
Then Talia rolled her eyes dramatically. “I hate people like that,” she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Lily to hear.
Lily’s lips twitched. She tried to hold it in. But a small sound escaped.
“And here I thought you couldn’t smile,” she teased gently.