Chapter 99: The Luna has a wolf

Alyssa drifted through a translucent haze before her consciousness began to claw its way back to the surface.

The first thing that hit her was the pain. Every single inch of her body burned with a dull, throbbing agony, from her temples down to the soles of her feet. Drawing a simple breath hurt like hell.

She forced her eyelids open, blinking against the blurriness. Slowly, her vision cleared, and she realized this wasn’t her bedroom at the mansion.

The scent of antiseptic hit her nose. The stark white walls were too bright, and all around her, monitors beeped in steady, rhythmic pulses while an oxygen mask pushed cool air into her lungs.

​She turned her head slightly, letting out a low, breathless groan. She felt as though she had been crushed beneath a mountain of stone. Everything hurt.

Then, her eyes caught the figure slumped in the armchair beside her bed. It was Dorian.

Her heart took a sudden, wild leap. His face was turned toward her, his eyes closed, his lashes fanning across his sharp cheekbones. The shadow beneath his eyes told her everything about the exhaustion weighing on him.

His hands were wrapped firmly around her wrist, resting against his cheek as if he were holding onto a lifeline.

Oh, my sweet Dorian, she thought, her eyes stinging. How long have you been sitting here? You look so tired.

She pulled her hand free, clenching her teeth hard as a sharp pain shot up her forearm. She managed to reach his face, her fingers sliding into his silky hair to caress his scalp.

At her touch, Dorian stirred. His eyes opened, bloodshot and heavy with sleep. But the instant his gaze locked onto hers, he snapped wide awake.

"Alyssa?" he whispered.

He bolted out of the armchair so fast it toppled over. He leaned over the bed, his hands hovering above her face and shoulders, terrified to touch her in case he hurt her.

"Dorian..." she murmured, her voice muffled behind the mask.

"Don’t speak. Just lie still, my love. I’ll go get Dr. Dylan."

"No," she shook her head, her weak fingers tightening around his wrist before he could pull away. The sudden effort sent a shockwave of pain through her ribs, but she held on firmly until he dropped back down closer to her. "Don’t leave me."

"I would never leave you," he whispered, lowering his head until his forehead rested against her shoulder. His massive frame trembled with raw, suffocating relief. "I swear to you, I will never leave your side again."

She managed a faint smile, her thumb rubbing against his skin. "Sit with me."

Dorian didn’t hesitate. He pulled the chair right up to the edge of the mattress and sank into it, lifting her hand to press his lips against her knuckles, careful to avoid the IV lines taped to her skin.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. The terror in his gaze was palpable; he looked as though he feared that the slightest shift in the air would break her fragile frame.

Despite the pain, Alyssa’s lips twitched upward. She turned her head weakly to face him. "When was the last time you slept?"

Dorian didn’t answer right away. His expression was haunted, his gold eyes locking onto hers with a strange intensity.

Alyssa’s smile faltered. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I’m trying to convince myself that this isn’t another cruel dream," he rasped. "That you’re actually awake. That I’m hearing your voice."

"I am awake," she whispered softly. "Why would you think it was a dream?"

"Because for the past four days, I’ve been tortured by my dreams," Dorian admitted. "I would hallucinate seeing you open your eyes, watching you laugh and speak to me. Then I’d blink, and you’d still be lying there, unconscious. Every single time. I thought I was going out of my mind."

Alyssa’s heart ached for him. She couldn’t begin to fathom the torment he had endured, trapped in a loop of false hope while her body hung in the balance.

Then something about what he said registered in her mind. "Did... did you say four days?"

Dorian nodded slowly. "You’ve been unconscious for four days."

But what he didn’t tell her was the brutal truth of what really happened the last four days. He didn’t tell her how he hadn’t left her side. He didn’t tell her about the moments her heart rate plunged and the monitors shrieked, pulling him into wild panic.

He didn’t tell her how Pandora had practically dragged him back to the mansion to take a bath and rest, only for him to return to her bedside.

And above all, he couldn’t tell her about the baby, the child they had lost before they even knew it existed. The secret burned in his chest like hot coal, but Dr. Dylan had insisted he wait until she was discharged before he would tell her.

Alyssa let out a soft sigh, pulling him out of his thoughts. He immediately leaned in, his pulse spiking.

"Are you in pain, my love? Do you need anything?"

"I’m fine," she murmured. "Just overwhelmed that it’s been four days. My whole body feels so heavy."

"Do you want me to raise the bed? Adjust your pillows? Anything?"

"I’m fine, Dorian," she chuckled, squeezing his broad fingers. "Having you here is all I need."

Dorian pressed his cheek into her open palm, letting out a long, shuddering breath. For hours, they stayed wrapped in that quiet bubble, speaking in hushed tones until a nurse stepped in to adjust her IV bag and administer a sedative.

As the medication entered Alyssa’s bloodstream, a wave of drowsiness swept over her.

"I don’t want to fall asleep," she slurred softly, her eyelids growing heavy. "I want to stay with you."

"I’ll be right here when you wake up, my love. I promise," Dorian murmured, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her temple. "Rest now."

Her grip on his hand slowly slackened.

"Dorian?" she whispered, barely audible.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Dorian’s heart slammed against his ribs like a sledgehammer. He sat in the dim light, watching her breathing even out into deep, restorative sleep. Then he leaned over and pressed another soft kiss against her cheek.

The door suddenly swiveled open behind him. He whirled around, his expression twisting into rage before dying down when he recognized Dr. Dylan standing in the doorway.

"Forgive the intrusion, Alpha," Dr. Dylan said in a tense, hushed voice. "May I speak with you outside? It is urgent."

Dorian stood up slowly, his body stiff. He cast one last protective look at Alyssa, gently released her sleeping hand, and stepped out into the quiet hallway.

"What is it, Dylan?" he demanded. "Are there any complications?"

Dr. Dylan looked visibly shaken, holding a sheet of lab printouts in his hands. "No complications, Alpha. But her blood work just came back from analysis. I am still trying to process what I am looking at."

Dorian’s jaw clenched. "Speak plainly. What did you find out?"

"The Luna has a wolf."

Dorian went dead still. "What?"

"And not just any standard wolf," Dylan rushed on. "She possesses dormant Lycan DNA. That is why she survived a severed artery and a blade drenched in aconite. Her cell regeneration is operating at an impossible rate, even faster than yours, Alpha."

Dorian stood paralyzed, his mind racing to process the news. Alyssa? A Lycan?

"That is not all," Dr. Dylan added, lowering his voice to a whisper as he handed over the charts. "Her blood markers show large traces of raw, ancient residue mixed into her lineage. I don’t know what bloodline she belongs to yet, but the genetic sequence is as clear as day."

He swallowed hard, looking Dorian dead in the eye.

"Luna Alyssa is a Hybrid."