Alpha's Regret: Marked By The Lycan King

Chapter 138: Chapter 138: Badly Injured

Estelle’s POV

I dropped the mortar and pestle I was holding. The ceramic bowl clattered against the wooden table, spilling half-mixed herbs across the surface.

“Zach, take over here,” I called to one of the healers. “Follow the same ratios I showed you earlier.”

He nodded quickly and rushed to the work station.

I wiped my hands on a clean cloth and headed for the tent opening. My pulse was racing faster than it should have been. I told myself it was just relief that the mission was successful.

Outside, warriors were shouting commands and running in different directions.

“They’re coming from the eastern ridge!” someone yelled.

I shielded my eyes from the morning sun and looked toward the treeline. A group of figures was moving through the forest, heading straight for our camp.

Even from this distance, I could see they were all in their wolf forms. Some of the wolves were carrying people on their backs. The sight made my stomach clench with worry.

As they got closer, my eyes immediately found the wolf leading the group. He was massive compared to the others, with silver fur that caught the sunlight. I knew instantly it was Zayne.

Relief flooded through me. He was alive. He had made it back.

But as the group approached the camp perimeter, something caught my attention. The silver wolf’s fur looked different. It seemed to be darker in some places.

I stepped forward, squinting to get a better look, only to realize that the dark color I noticed wasn’t shadows or dirt on his coat. It was blood, and it was quickly spreading.

The silver wolf stumbled slightly but kept moving forward. His powerful legs were shaking with each step.

I broke into a run.

“Zayne!” I shouted, not caring who heard me.

The wolf’s head turned toward my voice. Even from his wolf form, I could see the exhaustion in his electric blue eyes.

I was still twenty feet away when his front legs gave out. His massive body swayed to the right, then to the left.

I pushed myself harder, my legs burning as I sprinted across the uneven ground.

Zayne’s wolf form collapsed just as I reached him. I dropped to my knees and caught his head before it could hit the dirt.

“Get the healers!” I screamed over my shoulder. “Now!”

***

Third POV

Hours later, Zayne’s eyes opened slowly. The tent around him was dim and quiet. A damp cloth slipped from his forehead as he tried to sit up.

Pain shot through his abdomen immediately. He looked down to see his chest wrapped in clean white bandages. Someone had taken very good care of him.

He could smell Estelle’s scent lingering in the air. But that was impossible. She was supposed to be safe at the palace, having dinner with his grandmother.

‘Mason?’ No response came through the pack link. He tried again, speaking aloud this time.

“Mason?” he called out, his voice rough and hoarse.

The tent flap rustled. Zayne expected to see his beta’s familiar face. Instead, Estelle stepped inside.

Zayne blinked hard, convinced he was hallucinating. Maybe he hadn’t properly woken up after all, and this was just a dream.

But her figure was starting to come closer, and she was still as clear as before. Estelle was carrying a tray with a covered bowl and several small medicine bottles. He could smell the aroma of the chicken soup before he even saw the dish.

“You’re supposed to be lying down,” she said, hurrying to his bedside.

She set the tray on a small table and immediately moved to check his position. Her hands were gentle but firm as she guided him back against the pillows.

“What are you doing here?” Zayne asked. He tried to sit up again, but she placed her hand on his shoulder to stop him. “You should be at the palace. It’s not safe here.”

Estelle ignored his question and reached for his bandages. “Let me check your wounds first.”

Zayne caught her wrist before she could touch the wrappings. He pulled her closer, until her face was only inches from his.

She gasped as she fell forward. Even then, she was careful not to touch his injuries. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her lips parted slightly.

“Answer me,” he said quietly. “Why are you here?”

“Your grandmother told me what was happening,” Estelle replied. “I wanted to help. I didn’t realize it would be this serious.”

“This is a war camp, Estelle. You could have been killed. What were you thinking?”

Her face fell slightly, and her eyebrows knitted tightly together.

The moment he saw her expression change, all his anger melted away. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her small frame against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I was just worried about you.”

She melted into his embrace, her body relaxing against his. Zayne felt his heart skip several beats.

“You collapsed the moment you returned to camp,” she explained softly. “You lost so much blood. There was wolfsbane and silver in your system, and it was preventing your other wounds from healing.”

When they pulled apart, Zayne noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Her usual bright complexion looked pale and tired. All of a sudden, none of Zayne’s wounds felt painful any longer. The only part of him that ached was his heart, seeing how drained she was.

He reached up and gently ran his thumb under her eye.

“Did you pull an all-nighter?”