Theron did not waste another second.

"I will find out," he said, already turning toward the door. "Whether this was done here... or at the watchtower."

The door closed behind him with quiet finality.

The doctor, noticing the shift in the air, sighed softly. "Hand."

Aeron lowered his arm again without protest.

The old man pulled out a syringe and removed the small glass vial from the box. He stabbed the needle through the rubber cap and slowly drew the dark liquid into the chamber.

Seren watched every movement, her stomach tightening.

The doctor leaned forward and without ceremony pierced the needle into one of Aeron’s veins.

Aeron’s eyes twitched.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then it hit.

His jaw locked.

It felt as though thousands of tiny needles were stabbing him from the inside, spreading through his veins, crawling beneath his skin. His fingers dug into the sheets as the sensation traveled up his arm and into his chest.

Seren instinctively took a step forward. "Aeron-"

"I am fine," he forced out through clenched teeth.

The doctor pressed a clean towel against the puncture wound. "The antidote will do its job," he said flatly. "You should be grateful the poison has not fully reached your heart. A little longer and even I would have struggled."

Aeron gave no reply.

His gaze remained fixed on his arm, watching the faint tremor beneath his skin.

The doctor waited in silence.

No, thank you. No acknowledgement from Aeron.

His brows furrowed instantly.

With sudden impatience, he grabbed the rope still tied around Aeron’s arm and yanked it off roughly.

Aeron’s eyes bulged slightly in shock as the abrupt pain shot through him.

The old man huffed in satisfaction.

’At least that reaction proved he was still responsive.’

He packed his tools back into the box and stood. "Stay clear of people until I am certain the toxin is fully neutralized," he warned. "If there is any residue left in your system, your temper will not be your own."

Aeron’s gaze darkened slightly at that.

The doctor turned to leave ... then paused.

His eyes shifted to Seren.

She was staring at Aeron.

Not at the blood on the floor but... At him!

The worry in her eyes was unmistakable.

The doctor looked from her... to Aeron... and back again.

Then, without thinking, he blurted, "Why is a servant worried about the well-being of the heir?"

The words sliced through the room and Seren stiffened.

"You should be looking at the floor," he continued bluntly. "Like every other servant in this palace."

Her focus snapped back as if someone had struck her.

Heat rushed to her face.

’Stupid...’ Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.

’’I was so focused on him that I forgot myself.’ She bit her lips and her gaze lowered immediately.

’You let yourself get carried away.’ Her eyes shut.

The reminder of her place settled over her like cold water.

Silence followed after those words left his lips.

Aeron, who had been staring at his arm moments ago, slowly lifted his eyes.

They moved to the doctor first.

Then to Seren.

She stood with her head bowed now, shoulders slightly tense.

The shift did not go unnoticed.

Aeron’s expression hardened.

His voice, when he finally spoke, was calm

... but edged.

"She was assisting you." He reminded him.

The doctor blinked.

The man scoffed at Aeron and shot Seren a sharp glare. "It better be so."

He straightened his robe, turned back to Aeron, and added curtly, "I am done here."

Without another word, he walked out the door closing it behind him.

Silence settled heavily in the room.

Seren lifted a hand to her chest, feeling her heart pounding wildly against her palm. She sniffled softly, steadying her breath before daring to look at Aeron.

His gaze was already on her.

Dark. Quiet, and unreadable as though he had been studying her long before she noticed.

She forced a small smile onto her face. "How are you feeling now?"

Aeron leaned back slightly against the headboard. "Somewhere in between being fine and going through hell," he replied dryly. "But it is nothing too dangerous."

Relief washed over her body. "That’s good."

Her smile lingered for a second before her eyes drifted to the floor ... to the unmoving forms still lying there.

Her fingers tightened together.

"When... when are you going to take the bodies away?" she asked quietly. "Theron said the second guard was still alive. You could have asked the doctor to treat him before he left."

Aeron exhaled softly but did not answer.

Instead, he turned his gaze toward the door.

He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers twice.

The sharp sound echoed in the room, and then silence settled in.

Seren frowned slightly, confused. She followed his gaze to the door. She had been standing there earlier. No one had been outside.

Yet the door suddenly pushed open.

Three royal guards stepped inside in perfect unison.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

They did not speak. Their expressions remained neutral as their gazes fell on the floor. Two moved immediately, lifting the injured guard with care. The third bent to retrieve the other body.

Within seconds, they were heading back toward the door.

The room was cleared as swiftly as they had entered.

The door shut again.

Seren stared at it, stunned.

Aeron noticed and a breathless laugh escaped his lips.

"The injured guard will be taken to a healer," he said calmly. "That is what the royal guards use for treatment. They heal faster that way and return to duty."

He lifted his arm slightly, touching the spot where the needle had pierced him.

"While the heirs receive treatment from the pack’s doctor," he added. "To ensure our bodies do not break down."

Seren remained silent.

Inside, something twisted painfully.

The royal guards healed faster and returned to duty immediately. But healing flesh did not erase the pain their bodies went through.

Their bodies might recover, their wounds closing without scars, yet they would still remember the agony. They would still feel it in their bones long after.

Her chest tightened slightly at the thought.

Aeron watched her carefully and wondered if he made the right choice telling her about it.

"Don’t worry..." He muttered not knowing what to say. "... They don’t return to duty immediately. A few hours of rest... is what they take before-"

However, his words only added more doubts in her head.

.

.

.

Back at the outer walk of the Pack, Kael and his men returned from the borders, riding their horses through the thinning mist.

A guard standing atop the outer wall spotted them from afar.

"Open the gate!!" he yelled.

Immediately, a few guards rushed forward, grabbing the thick iron chains. They pulled with force, muscles straining as the massive gate began to move.

It opened slowly with a deep rumbling sound that echoed across the stone walls.

The citizens, still suffering from the carnage the enemies had caused, turned their heads toward the entrance.

Kael rode in first.

His face was stony, streaked with drying blood. His hair was wet with it, dark strands sticking to his forehead and trailing down the side of his face to his arm.

Shame burned quietly in his chest.

He had allowed himself to be fooled!

He had trusted false movement at the borders, and while he was gone, the enemy had struck closer to home.

His jaw tightened.

Bodies lay scattered along the inner path. The injured limped weakly, forming long lines on both the right and left sides as they made way for him.

They watched him pass.

There was no excitement in their eyes.

No pride.

Only exhaustion.

And disappointment.

Kael shut his eyes briefly as his horse carried him forward, passing through the second wall. The gate there had already been opened in preparation for his return.

Once inside, he pulled on the reins and hopped off his horse in one smooth motion.

A guard immediately stepped forward and took the reins, bowing slightly before leading the exhausted animal away for treatment.

Kael did not linger.

He began striding toward his brother’s quarters, boots hitting the stone floor with urgency.

"Prince Kael."

The calm voice came from behind.

Kael slowed and turned.

Below the staircase stood a slender man with silvered hair. His hand rested casually on the head of his sword. His posture was straight, controlled, and composed despite the visible tension lingering in the courtyard.

Commander Draven.

He climbed the stairs steadily until he stood before Kael.

Kael’s expression did not soften. "Commander Draven. Do you have a report to make?"

Draven inclined his head slightly. "Yes, Your Highness. I do. But it concerns Prince Cassien."

He paused briefly before adding, "I noticed you were heading in that direction."

Kael studied him for a moment.

There was something unreadable in Draven’s eyes.

Kael did not press.

"Then follow me," he said simply.

Without another word, he turned and continued toward Cassien’s quarters.